Wicked Knight

by Tierney O'Malley

  “How about your friend, Armand? He's been drooling over you since you met him at the Microsoft Corporate Office. If you marry him, it wouldn't be a totally loveless marriage. And you could always divorce him after, uhm, say a month.”

  “Do you think he'd agree if I tell him I just want to be married for a month?”

  “Don't tell him then. Who knows, maybe after a month you'd learn to love him.”

  “While I wait for my heart to beat for him, what should I tell him? Armand, I can't sleep with you yet because I don't love you. I don't think that'll fly.”

  “He's in love with you. It might.”

  “I don't know, Kirsten. He's a good man. I can't just use him or his affection. That's just downright wrong.”

  “What about Mr. Scowl? He smiles at you all the time, but scowls and ignores me.”

  “Mr. Scowl. Are you talking about Tristan's business partner, Edmund?”

  “Yeah. Didn't you notice how he scowls when I am around? As a pediatrician, he should smile all the time so he doesn't scare his patients. “

  “Ah. No, I didn't notice.”

  “I think he's got the hots for you. Whenever he's here, he only talks to you, even if I am sitting next to him. It's as if I don't exist.”

  “And you think he scowls because...why again?”

  “I think because my brothers tease you all the time. Maybe ask him to do you a favor. Pay him if you have to.”

  Julie smiled. Her friend might be one of the great thinkers and fashion designers in all of Washington, but she could be dense when it came to something simple and obvious. She supposed the difference between a designer and a romance author was the designer could see what was missing in the picture, whereas an author like her was good at spotting what was there, what was going on between characters. And she'd bet her Cadbury candies there was definitely something in Edmund's eyes whenever he stared at Kirsten, when he thought no one was looking.

  “Edmund is just like one of your brothers. A teaser, though I highly doubt that he has the hots for me.”

  “You don't think so?”

  “No. And I will not pay him to marry me. I'll think about Armand, Kirsten. Is that fine enough for you to let me leave?”

  “Yeah. Fine. Okay, let me make a pot of coffee. Have a cup before you go,” Kirsten offered, but didn't attempt to get up. Instead, she let out a long yawn that reminded Julie of a lioness basking under the afternoon sun at the Woodland Park Zoo one time.

  Julie felt horrible. Her friend should be back in bed dreaming about gowns and dresses. “Don't worry about it. Starbucks are everywhere. I'll grab a cup at the ferry terminal. Sorry, Kirsten. I hate to disrupt our weekend plan, but it's important that I go home.”

  “I'm sorry, too. My brothers will be disappointed. Percival wanted a chess rematch. Bors was still upset about losing his handcuffs in a poker game and wanted them back. Gawain saved two bags of Oreos thinking he could beat you in an Oreo eating contest he planned for this afternoon, and Tristan...hmm...I don't know what he's planning on doing this afternoon. Whatever. They won't be happy when they find you gone and I'm sure they'll all give me a hard time for letting you go.”

  Maybe not all of them. Last night, when she and Tristan came back to the house through the backdoor, he simply said goodnight, then walked away, leaving her in the kitchen alone. He didn't join them for a game of cards or share the brownies with everyone. She heard he retired early, which much to her chagrin, brought disappointment in her heart.

  “Tell them I am sorry.”

  “I think you should wait and tell them you're sorry yourself.”

  “My gut is telling me that you just want me to stay so your brothers could torment me instead of you.”

  “Of course, but you know I want you to stay here with me forever.”

  “I know.”

  “And I'll love you more if you stay.”

  “I can't. And whether I leave or stay, you'll love me forever. Well, have to go. I want to catch the first ferry.”

  “Just stay, Julie, you're worrying about nothing.”

  “Hope you are right. That whatever Weatherholt said to me on the phone isn't worth worrying about. Yet, I still want to make sure. Go back to bed. I'll call you.”

  “You'd better. Oh, would you like me to go with you?”

  “No. Thanks for the offer though. Alright. Take care.”

  Julie gave her friend a hug, walked outside, and got in the waiting cab. Honest to God, she didn't want to leave. Being in the Knight household was like sleeping underneath an electric blanket. Warm, cozy, and comfortable.

  Sighing, she rolled down the window and waved at Kirsten, who was leaning against the doorjamb with a long face.

  * * * *

  Kirsten stood on the porch, hugging herself. Her flannel pajamas weren't enough to ward off the chill. She waved back at Julie, who stuck her head out of the car's window, waving her slender arm. The feeling in her stomach was comparable to how her stomach would clench whenever she heard Bors was doing undercover work. Fear.

  It's time I help you, Julie. You needn't face your battles alone. A true friend would walk on a bed of hot coals to help another friend. Especially Julie. Taking a deep breath, Kirsten made a final decision. It was time to let out Julie's secret, to find someone who could really help her.

  Kirsten waited until the car turned around the bend before she hurried upstairs. Her steps were long and purposeful.

  At the end of the hallway, she stopped in front of her brother's bedroom. She read the sticker on the door that had been there since they were young kids, Enter at your own risk. Scoffing at the sign, she turned the knob and opened the door.

  The room was dark, but she didn't bother turning on the lights. For sure, her brother slept with his boxers on, but one couldn't be so sure. Kirsten knew the layout of the room. She slept here many times to remember where the king size bed, dressers, table and chairs were located.

  Standing on the side of the bed, she shook her brother's shoulder. “Wake up!” she whispered and pulled off the bedspread to expose the big lump on the bed.

  “Kirsten! What the hell, man. I'm trying to sleep.”

  “Wake up.”

  “What is it? Nightmare again? Go see Mom and Dad.”

  “No, I don't want Mom and Dad.”

  “Get your sleeping bag and sleep on the floor. You're too big now to cuddle with me.”

  “Dingbat, I didn't have a nightmare.”

  “Good. If you need cash, my wallet's on the dresser. Just leave me cash for gas.”

  Kirsten felt the screams of frustrations forming deep down her throat. If she made a single peep, her brothers and parents would come running. Screaming wouldn't be good. She punched him on the shoulder instead. “Idiot! I don't need your money.”

  “Jeez, then what do you want?”

  “I need to talk to you. Meet me downstairs.”

  “What! I just finally am able to sleep. Can't it wait? Go to back to bed, Kirsten.”

  “No. This can't wait, Tristan. Julie needs help.”

  “The fuck!”

  Tristan's blanket landed in a heap on the floor. He stood up so fast one would think there was a fire in the house. Just as she thought. She guessed the right brother to wake. And she was right, too, about leaving the lights off. Even in the dark, she could make out her brother's body—naked. Eww!

  “You owe the penny jar a quarter.”

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  Chapter Five

  * * * *

  “What is this about helping Julie, Kirsten? And where is she?” Tristan looked about the family room. Without the vixen, the bane of his existence, the woman he wanted to punish for ruining his dates, the one who seemed to light the room with her presence, and the one he imagined was sleeping beside him, the room was just that. A room.

  It was the hair. Julie's damn bright red-orange hair served as a beacon wherever she was. And her peridot green, round eyes...Da
mn, the woman was a menace and a pain in a dick.

  “Julie left a few minutes ago. The cab took her to the ferry terminal.”

  “She went home?”

  “Yeah.”

  Hope of spending the morning with Julie was dashed. All night he thought about ways to apologize to her and came up with the idea of offering an invitation to take her kayaking. “I thought she would be spending the whole week with us. Did I insult her by giving her burnt sausages?”

  “Not at all. She thought it hilarious.” Kirsten picked up a pocketbook off the table, then plopped down on the couch. She tucked her feet beneath her before looking at him, shaking her head.

  Tristan moved the small shallow, half-full basket of Granny Smith green apples so he could sit on the coffee table. He noticed a couple of apples were missing. His heart ballooned. Green apples were Julie's favorite. Every time he heard Julie was coming over, he would buy the fruits. Some sort of peace offering so she wouldn't do anything silly behind his back. Of course, the apples never worked. This time, he thought she might not try to get even with him for scaring her out of her wits last time she came over. But what did she do? Told Pamela he had gonorrhea. He bet Pamela already spread the news about his disease. Not that he cared.

  Since Julie entered his already quiet life, she picked on him whenever she got her chance. And damn him. He enjoyed every minute of it.

  But he shouldn't have given her the burnt sausages, which she peeled off methodically. Julie loved Polish sausages.

  Facing Kirsten, he found he was overly anxious to hear about the details of Julie's sudden departure. “So why did Julie leave? What's the rush?”

  “Weatherholt. Julie's lawyer. He was also Laura's lawyer.”

  Laura was Julie's mother. What's going on? “Why would Julie's lawyer call early in the morning?” It was a stupid question really. He'd been around lawyers and judges to know why a lawyer would wake someone with a phone call.

  “Weatherholt called to tell her that the bitch is coming within a week, which undoubtedly will cause trouble again. And the asshole is coming with her, of course. So Julie went home, in case they show up at her front door early.”

  “You have to elaborate what you just said. I've been around too many bitches and assholes to know which one you're talking about.”

  “Her stepmother and her son are coming back.”

  “Sebastian and Marla?”

  “Yes. They thought of a new way to destroy her.” Kirsten stared at the book she was holding. “I hate them.”

  “Come again? What do you mean, destroy her?” Tristan took a deep breath. His sister was drawn to dramatics, which he was used to, but it was early. And she wasn't helping his growing irritation, which stemmed from learning that someone was causing Julie trouble. “Kirsten, before I strangle you, will you please tell me what's going on? From the very beginning...please.”

  “You're going to help, right?”

  “Of course. She's your best friend, Kirsten. If she's in trouble, I will help.”

  “Good. I just want to make sure.”

  “Why would I not help Julie?”

  “Because you're indifferent to her. Yeah, you two spar all the time, but you're not Bors, Gawain, and Percival. They play nice with her, not watch her every move, frowning at her all the time, as if you're waiting for her to do something you disapprove, a reason for you to stay away from her. Julie is beautiful and men are attracted to her, but Julie's not like Carly, you know. She wouldn't flirt with all of you to get attention. In fact, if I let her, she'd stay in her house, away from everyone. She doesn't want attention.”

  “Not carousing with her doesn't mean I don't like her, Kirsten. And for the record, not once have I thought of Julie as someone like Carly. Like you said, she's beautiful. It's hard not to look at her. If I frown, well, I wasn't aware. Thanks for letting me know though. Next time, I'll make sure my eyebrows are not knotted when she's around. Now will you tell me why she left and what this bitch and asshole are about? I really want to help.”

  Kirsten broke a smile. Her eyes shone with mischief. “Cool.”

  Damn, he'd seen that smile many times before. Tristan felt he just signed a blank form Kirsten would use and he couldn't do anything about it. What was his sister up to? “Now, back to Marla and Sebastian.”

  “Okay, I'll tell you all about Julie and her family, but only because I love and care for her. You care for her, Tristan, don't you?”

  More than I want to. “She saved your life, and she's been a friend of this family for, what now? Six months?” Seems like I've known her forever. And when I look into her eyes, I swear I can see her heart and soul. Julie's an open book. She laughs like an angel without pretense and a she-devil that'll capture a man's heart if he's stupid enough to lower his guard.

  “...but don't tell anyone,” Kirsten was saying. “She doesn't want people to know how dysfunctional her family was.”

  Tristan nodded. He wasn't aware of Julie's dysfunctional family, but he knew a little bit about her. Julie appeared three times on a Gap Jeans advertisement on television, liked green apples sprinkled with salt, and was a big fan of Jane Austen. She lived in a two and a half million-dollar house in Edmonds. She was a prankster, humble, down-to-earth, a heck of a siren, with a model figure and height any man would want to have a taste of feeling, kissing, and sucking. Just the way he did in the glass hut. God, the woman was a walking sin and until last night, a virgin, who gave herself to him without inhibitions.

  Shit, his physical attraction took over his senses. God, he claimed her virginity in the hut. Julie's first time was on the extra firm mattress with flannel sheets. She deserved better than that! What had he done? “The fuck.”

  “You owe the jar another quarter. Mom should have made a dollar rule for each curse.” Kirsten's scowl brought Tristan back to their topic.

  “What were you saying about Julie's dysfunctional family?”

  Kirsten let out a deep sigh. “Okay, you already know that Laura died when Julie was in high school, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, in Laura's will, she left practically everything to Julie. While Paul, her ex-husband, received only a monthly stipend, which is still big if you ask me.”

  “I take it the asshole is Paul.”

  “Yeah, Paul is an asshole, but not the one I am talking about. He's more of a useless wart and a wandering dick.”

  “I hate to imagine his dick wandering here knocking on our door. I sure hope you don't talk like that around other people. Around us is fine, but—”

  “Of course, I don't. What do you think? I have a pilot, FBI Agent, Computer Analyst for the government, and a Pediatrician for brothers, not to mention a Judge for a father. Do you think I would do anything that would ruin our name?” Kirsten huffed.

  Tristan smiled. It must have been hard for his sister to behave like a girl outside when she had been raised in a family full of bucks who talked to her as if she wasn't a girl, and played rough with her—practically all the time. “Just checking. Now, if the father is not the asshole, then you're talking about Sebastian.”

  “Yes. He doesn't treat her like his stepsister.”

  “Why do you say that?” he asked sharply.

  Kirsten's brows rose. She stared at him for a minute, then shrugged her shoulders. “How about if I just tell you why they are giving Julie trouble?”

  Tristan nodded. He didn't pry. Instead, he filed the question in his memory bank. Later, he would find out about it. “Go on.”

  “Marla, after marrying Paul, found out about the stipulation to Laura's will.”

  “Stipulation?”

  Kirsten took another deep sigh. “Okay, I think it would be best if I start from the very beginning. Here we go...Julie told me, from elementary grade through high school, she created all kinds of problems to get her parents’ attention. She found out that the best way to get them together was if she was sent to the principal's office. So she created troubles at school. After a
while though, her mother started sending her secretary in, if not Weatherholt, to deal with her problems. So, Julie thought to devise a plan—to stage a burglary.”

  “A burglary?” Tristan couldn't believe the beautiful head contained a wicked brain. What a smart woman.

  “Yes, but you know Julie. She laughs at everything. So she was found out.”

  “How?”

  “Julie described the burglar she claimed she saw standing in her room to the cartoonist.”

  Kirsten smiled.

  “When the cartoonist was done drawing the image based on Julie's description, the image turned out to be Homer Simpson. You know the dad in—”

  “The Simpsons.” He knew all about the television show. He'd seen all of the episodes and even watched the movie.

  “Yeah. When Julie saw the cartoon, she started laughing.”

  Tristan smiled, imagining a young Julie fooling everyone. Or trying to.

  “Unfortunately, the police and Laura didn't find the whole thing funny. Furious, Laura threatened to send Julie to an all girls’ school, but that same month she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Julie said Laura was worried about leaving her troublemaker daughter alone. That she might end up hurting herself or end up in jail. So she thought of adding the stipulation to her will, thinking it would make Julie behave.”

  “Did she? I mean, she still pulls pranks on me.”

  “Only with you. Besides, she isn't dragging her own name down the gutter when she pulls pranks on you guys, or when she answers the phone pretending to be your girlfriend or wife. Anyway, keeping her family name clean is part of the condition on the will. She must not do anything—petty or not—that could be considered bad for her name. If she does, then she loses her inheritance to Paul.”

  “So? He's her dad.”

  “Only in blood. Julie hates him for cheating on her mom and for ignoring her most of her life.”

  Tristan nodded. At least Julie stayed put instead of running away. Abuse—physical and mental—were prime reasons for the high rate of runaway teenagers. Laura made a good decision for adding the stipulation. Even if it was now causing her troubles, the will made her stay in one place. “How long has Marla been giving Julie troubles?”