by K. Webster
“Years ago, they mined here, but then part of it collapsed and it was shut down.”
“Diamonds?” I question, eagerness in my tone.
He laughs. “Coal.”
“Boring,” I scoff.
He stops at the mouth of the cave and reaches out to touch the rock. “Boring is what made us our fortune.”
“Coal?”
“Oil.” He flashes me an impish grin. “We have more rigs all over the US than you can count.”
A rich prince, I see.
But fairy tales always have a villain.
My stomach clenches. Maybe my fairy tale can be boring. Like my prince’s oil rigs.
“Neat,” I lie.
His laughter echoes into the cave. “You shouldn’t lie, sweetheart. It’s really damn obvious.”
I playfully punch him in his stomach and I fear I might have broken a finger or two because holy hell does he have abs of steel. He pulls away from me to escape my punching and slips deeper into the cave. It’s drafty and much colder than outside. It makes me uneasy. No way in hell am I going in there.
“Come on, scaredy cat,” he teases.
I can no longer see him as the shadows have stolen him.
“Pass,” I call out.
“Suit yourself,” he replies, but it’s more distant.
I strain my eyes, looking after him in the darkness until I get antsy. With an annoyed huff, I walk back into the warm rays of the sun. The wind whistles around me, but the sun caresses my face. I close my eyes and tilt my head up.
Casey-Casey.
I pop my eyes open and swivel around in the search of what sounded like my name whispered in the wind. I don’t see anyone, but I feel as though they can see me.
“Casey-Casey.”
Okay, this time I did hear my name.
“Torin?”
Wind howling. Leaves rustling. Birds chirping.
I pass by the four-wheeler and stop when I see a penny sitting on the seat cushion. A smile tugs at my lips. In the sunlight, it’s even shinier than the last penny.
“Torin?” I call out. “Is this from you?”
Silence.
“Well, thank you,” I mutter mostly to myself. “I love pennies.”
Thoughts of pennies have me thinking of my birth mother. I hate the way my heart clenches and trembles whenever I try to imagine what she looks like. Did she love me? Did she regret leaving me in that manger? Did she want more for me than she could ever give?
Her letter said so.
Most days, I’m not sure I can believe it.
I’m lost in my thoughts when leaves crunch nearby. I dart my gaze to the sound and lock eyes with Torin. He frightens me because he’s so intense. I’ve yet to see him smile or show any sort of emotion. Mostly, he’s irritated all the time. From far away, it’s clear to see he’s no doubt a handsome guy. Tall, well over six feet. Broad shoulders that would be perfect for playing football if he had a little bit more weight on him. He’s lean and muscular. Like a runner. And right now, he’s poised to run far, far away. The muscles in his neck are taut and his jaw ticks. His nostrils flare with each breath he takes.
He’s beautiful.
Two princes. One castle.
I’ve died and gone to princess heaven.
There’s a villain, though. I just haven’t discovered him yet.
“Hey, Casey, check this out,” Tyler calls from the cave.
Torin takes off in a sprint. I watch in awe at his speed as he darts through the trees to his horse. With the grace and agility of a panther, he pounces on the horse. With fluid movements, he pulls himself up on the animal and tears off through the woods in a matter of seconds.
Well then.
A warm body comes up behind me, blocking the wind. I can’t help but lean toward him when he nears. In an affectionate move, Tyler hugs me from behind. I relax in his grip and try not to overthink this strange world I’ve stepped into. I’m not naïve enough that I think all this comes without a cost. I just wish I knew what that cost was.
“Ready for lunch?” Hot breath tickles my hair, causing me to shiver.
Turning in Tyler’s arms, I look up at him and search his handsome face for clues. “What’s the catch, Ty?”
His brows pinch together and I swear he looks as though he might cry. It slices my heart right open. I barely know Tyler, but I feel close to him. Two souls who need the other in some way. He reaches up and gently brushes my hair from my face.
“You’re the catch, sweetheart.”
Fifty-five dollars and fifty-five cents.
All in pennies.
I blink, blink, blink at that number on the receipt. It’s a good number. A solid number. A worthy number. The number.
My veins always thrum with a foreign electricity that doesn’t belong to me.
Buzzzzzzzzzz.
Buzzzzzzzzzz.
Buzzzzzzzzzz.
“All here?” I demand, my voice sharp even to my own ears. I’m mostly impressed I got out my question at all.
One hundred and eleven rolls.
Five loose.
Four ounces per roll.
Zero point zero eight eight ounces per coin.
Twenty-seven point seven eight pounds total.
“Every single last penny,” the teller says, the sound of her voice clipped. It’s the same tone Ethel uses on me. All it does is make me wish for a softer voice. A smoother voice. A voice like Tyler’s—a voice that speaks to me when my brain chooses to ignore the rest.
I don’t thank her because I don’t want to this time, not because I can’t. I cram my haul into my giant duffle bag. It’s heavy and I grunt as I heave it over my shoulder before stalking from the building without looking back. Once outside, I make a beeline to Tyler’s car where he waits for me. After shoving the hefty bag into the back, I sit in the front seat and slam the door shut. I rock in my seat and my neck aches from the movement.
Every Friday.
Every Friday we leave the house to see Dr. Cohen and run our errands.
I hate Fridays.
Buzzzzzzzzzz.
“Get what you needed?” he asks.
“Casey-Casey,” I snarl.
He lets out a rush of breath. “Her appointment is next month. I’ll run her to it. I thought just you and I could go together today.”
I want to tell him the only reason I like Fridays are because of him. It’s on the tip of my tongue. It tickles and teases for escape. My teeth clamp down. I curl my hand into a fist and slam it down on the dash.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Tyler is silent as he puts the car in drive. Uneasiness rises and falls inside me. Like those carnival games we used to play with Dad where we’d shoot water at the target and see how high we could make the frogs rise. Tyler always made his frog rise to the top. I could never get my frog off the bottom.
“While you’re with Dr. Cohen today, I need to run by the store on the corner. Is that going to be okay?” His voice is strained. Shaky almost. I want to grip my brother by the jaw and pry out the words he’s hiding inside him. They’re hiding deep, ebbing from him like ripples on the surface of a lake. Something’s making the water move. I want to know what.
My lips twitch. The words teeter on my tongue, tipping this way and that, but they don’t ever fall from my mouth. Why are you going to that store, brother? Tell me why.
Buzzzzzzzzzz.
“I’ll take your silence as approval. I won’t be gone long.”
I steal a glance at him. Sweat beads at his temple and his skin is pallid. I take a mental note to do some investigating when I get home to my computer.
“Oh,” he says as he turns down the street that leads us to Dr. Cohen’s. “I heard back from Tucker Shaw. The Oklahoma site we’ve been eyeing is finally for sale. I’ll email the specs to you.”
He doesn’t have to email the specs, though. The moment he emailed me showing his interest in the property, I researched everything about it. Land records. Historical data. Seismic
activity in the area. Everything. It’s what I do. It’s one of the few things that makes me feel worthy.
Buzzzzzzzzzz.
Buzzzzzzzzzz.
Buzzzzzzzzzz.
I remain silent, but I want to tell him the site is a steal. I’ve looked at the maps and have determined it’s a perfect location to slap down our rigs and pump out more of our fortune. Sometimes I wish my goddamned mouth worked.
Buzzzzzzzzzz.
Tyler pulls into a parking spot and I tear my gaze from my lap to the front of the building. I remember seeing Casey bent over reaching for the same penny I’d seen. Closing my eyes, I try to remember her face that day. Her brows were furled together and her lips were pursed. I couldn’t make sense of her expression. I can’t make sense of anyone’s expressions. But when our eyes met, I felt something deep inside of me. I’d wanted to grab her hand and shove the penny into it. To explain to her the history of money and its evolution. To show her every coin in my collection—to explain the meaning behind each one.
Instead, I’d simply stared at her.
With my stupid mouth clamped shut.
“Casey-Casey,” I grumble.
Buzzzzzzzzzz.
Tyler reaches over and clutches his hand on my knee. A desperate need radiates from him, but I don’t know how to fill it. I wish my brain would shut the fuck up for five minutes and seek out a solution. I wish the data and numbers and information would still so that I could learn what it is that makes my brother tick. To delve inside his mind and pull out his secrets. So many secrets.
“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” he assures me. “I’ll walk you in.”
“NO!” My voice is loud and sharp and hurts my own damn ears. I wish I could rip out my tongue to keep from barking shit out, but I can’t. The words just escape when they want to and how they want to.
I want to tell him I’ll be fine. I’m twenty-five years old. I can manage walking in by myself, just like I do at the bank. Instead, I yell again. “NO!”
Tyler doesn’t flinch or recoil like everyone else. He simply pats my knee. “Okay, Torin. I’ll be back before your session is over.”
I yank the door open and slam it behind me. My body is tense and it begs to turn back to look at my brother. But my brain and body fight against each other like always. I fixate on the concrete as I stomp into the building. I push past a woman and she cries out when my body clips hers, nearly knocking her over. My fingers twitch to reach out and comfort her, but I don’t. I mumble words that don’t make sense and throw myself in the first chair I find in the lobby.
Buzzzzzzzzzz.
Dr. Cohen says I’m stubborn. That if I want to get better I will.
Nobody wants to get better more than I do. Dr. Cohen is just a fucking quack.
“Torin Kline,” the receptionist calls out. “You forgot to sign in.”
My body finally lets my mind call the shots and I jerk my head to look out the window, seeking my brother out. The car is gone. And with his absence, my heart is gone too.
“Torin Kline—”
“NO!” I yell at her.
A little kid starts crying and I want to tell her I wasn’t trying to scare her. But my body is back to wigging out. I rock in my chair with my hands fisted. Dr. Cohen will come for me. I won’t have to sign in.
Buzzzzzzzzzz.
My throat is hoarse and my eyes sting.
I’ve read up on this.
It’s pain. Internal pain. Sadness. Uncertainty. All emotions “they” say I can’t feel. I feel them all fucking right. They just don’t know how to rise to the surface.
Buzzzzzzzzzz.
Buzzzzzzzzzz.
I cling to the only control I have. Clenching my eyes shut, I think back to yesterday. Back to the way Casey stared up at me with a beautiful smile on her face when she’d seen the penny on the ATV seat.
The buzzing in my veins quietens.
The ever-present ache of tense muscles in my neck lessens.
The tightness in my chest relaxes.
I’ll give you all the pennies, Casey.
I’ll give you them all.
“Honey, we’re home,” Tyler calls out as soon as the front door opens.
I burst from my seat on the sofa, abandoning my Dean Koontz book, and bounce toward the sound of his voice. Torin blazes past me, a giant bag hefted over his shoulder, and nearly knocks me over in the process. Tyler chuckles as he grabs my elbow to keep me from falling.
“You’re back,” I chirp, trying to ignore the way my arm tingles where he has his grip on me.
“Just in time too,” he tells me with a wide grin as he drops a sack onto the floor near the door. “They’re on their way to deliver your car.”
I’d forgotten about my car until now. He grabs my hand and pulls me outside with him. The sun is bright in the sky, but it’s another chilly day. I wish I’d snagged something warmer before going outside. As if sensing I’m cold, Tyler wraps me up in a hug from behind. I melt against his sturdy chest. The heat surging through me is less temperature and more hormonal. Even though the embrace is platonic in nature, I can’t help but wish for his palms to roam all over me.
“What was in Torin’s bag?” I ask, turning slightly so I can look up at him.
He smiles down at me. “I’m not sure.”
We stare at each other for a moment. His hair is perfectly gelled in an imperfect style. Brown eyes gleam with happiness. Something seems off, though. Dark circles that are prominent in the daylight ring his eyes.
“Are you not sleeping well?”
His smile fades and his brows furrow together as he releases me. “Look,” he mumbles as he points down the drive. A semi-truck with several cars loaded down plugs along the driveway. I file away this moment to ask him about it later. Until then, I’m going to squeal like the teenage girl I am upon seeing my car.
“Oh my God!”
Tyler chuckles as he meets the driver. They exchange words and he signs some paperwork as I wonder how they’re going to get my cherry red Mercedes-AMG GT Coupe off the truck.
I want to ask him how much it cost, but I’m afraid to know the answer. That’ll shine a light on whatever it is I’m doing here, and surely, he’ll realize I’m not even close to the worth of this car. If hanging out with him and his brother is what he wants, I probably deserve a hunk of junk minivan like Guy’s.
“I’ll pay you back,” I tell Tyler. “I’ll get a job waiting tables or something.”
The driver snorts at my words as he begins pressing buttons on the back. “Darlin’, you’re going to have to do a whole lot more than wait tables if you ever plan on paying your daddy back for this puppy. What’d it set you back, buddy, one-fifteen?”
“One-twelve,” Tyler grits out. “She’s not my daughter and she’s not paying me back.”
The man laughs, deep and throaty from years of smoking. “Oh, I get it now.” He winks at us both. “If I had the money, you bet your ass I’d be some pretty little thing’s sugar daddy. No judgment here. Jealous as hell but no judgment.”
My skin heats and I gape at Tyler in horror. His lips are pressed together and he doesn’t seem happy at all. As the man unloads the car, I grab Tyler’s hand and tug at it to get his attention.
“One-twelve? What does that mean? That doesn’t mean what I think it means, does it?”
He regards me with a soft expression. “I told you, sweetheart, whatever you want.”
My eyes dart all over his face, searching for clues that he’s lying. Hell, I’m just trying to figure out his angle at this point. But he stares down at me with longing. Sadness. Desperation. I don’t understand him or us or this. It’s all so weird.
And yet…
I’m not asking to go back to Guy.
I’m not calling my social worker.
I’m accepting the keys from the truck driver.
I’m waving as he drives off.
I’m staring at my car that costs more than most people’s homes.
“T
yler,” I utter, my voice shaky. “I don’t know…”
“Just go with it,” he urges as he strides past me to the car.
Tyler is so breathtakingly handsome that all I can do is stare. His charcoal-gray slacks hug his firm ass perfectly. Makes me want to bounce the penny in my pocket off his butt. This man looks appropriate approaching an expensive car—as though it belongs to him.
Me, though?
I probably look like I’m figuring out a way to steal it.
“Know how to drive a stick?” he calls out over his shoulder.
“No.” I cross my arms over my chest and shiver.
“I’m going to teach you.” He flashes me a smoldering grin. “Hop in, Casey.”
“You’re getting better. You didn’t kill it when we stopped.”
I am more confident. For the past three hours, we’ve driven everywhere. At first, I was terrible and I thought the engine was going to blow up a couple of times. I’d expected Tyler to yell at me. All he did was laugh and explain the correct way to do it.
He was patient as he taught me.
Like a father would be to his daughter.
That thought confuses me. Some moments I’m attracted to him and wonder if he wants sex. Other times, I’m thankful for his friendship and affection. Problem is…I don’t know how to read Tyler. He’s an enigma. He has to be hiding something. People aren’t this nice all the time.
“There you go, sweetheart,” he says as he pats my hand that’s resting on the gearshift. “You’re a natural.”
The sun is setting as we exit the car and walk up to the house. Wind howls and I can smell the promise of snow in the air. For the first time, I don’t dread it. There won’t be long walks through the cold-ass snow to the bus stop. There won’t be finicky heaters in foster homes. There won’t be worry over the fact that my gloves have a hole in them.
I’ll be safe.
I’ll be warm.
I’ll be home.
A smile ghosts over my lips until I catch Tyler’s expression. He grimaces and pinches his eyes shut.
“You okay?” I question, reaching for his elbow.
He nods. “Headache. I’m going to go lie down. I’ll see you at dinner.”
As he rushes in the house, the stirrings of uneasiness creep in. The house is incredibly warm, which has my smile slowly tugging at my lips again. I’m beginning to learn the main parts of the house and easily make it back to my room. The first thing I do is plop down in front of the blazing fire. Sitting on the hearth is a shiny penny.