by Rose Wulf
****
After Madison was done at the house she and Nate piled back into the Navigator and Nate pointed them toward the interstate.
“Is there really no car dealership in Darien?” Madison asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
“Just one,” Nate replied casually. “But it’s kind of small and, well, you’ve seen the cars we drive.”
Madison laughed quietly, her eyes flicking over the expensive interior of the SUV, and replied, “Not up to your standards, huh?”
“It sounds bad when you say it like that,” Nate scolded with a grin. He turned that grin toward her for a moment before adding, “Besides, I figure if we’re going to be out of town for the afternoon, maybe we should make a date of it. Take our minds off life for an hour or two.”
Lifting a curious brow, Madison asked, “Oh? What’d you have in mind?”
“Lunch, for starters,” Nate began with a glance at the dashboard clock. “And then … what say you to something normal? Like a movie?”
Smiling, Madison relaxed a bit more into her seat and replied, “A nice, normal date, huh? That does sound sort of good. Will you be car shopping afterwards?”
“I do still have a promise to keep,” Nate said. “I might lose my Navigator privileges if I don’t.” He grinned at her resulting laughter, flicking a sideways glance toward her before returning his eyes to the road.
Comfortable silence dominated the remainder of the drive, until Nate took his desired off-ramp and started making his way toward their lunch destination. They discussed the merits of sandwiches and he finally relented, agreeing to take her to a local Togo’s instead of the steakhouse he’d had in mind.
“Steakhouses are for dinner,” Madison insisted with a laugh even as he pulled into the parking lot.
“They don’t have to be,” Nate argued weakly. He parked quickly and they made their way into the sandwich shop, where Madison gallantly allowed him to pay for the meal. They ordered, settled into a corner table, and silently agreed not to talk about the drama they’d found themselves in. Instead they discussed other things, allowing themselves to pretend like this was just an ordinary second date.
“I have a question,” Madison asked after a brief bout of silence. At the encouraging look Nate gave her, she continued. “My mom’s starting to talk about trying to save up and move to town, but the only places I know about are the two I’ve lived in so far. And, obviously, I don’t want to recommend her living in the same area where I was robbed before.”
“You don’t?” Nate asked with a laugh. “That’s a strange standard, you know.” When Madison only rolled her eyes at his teasing, Nate sobered up and paused, thinking, before he said, “Honestly, I don’t keep up with a lot of the neighborhoods. I know Brooke liked the complex she used to live in, but it was near the interstate side of town. And then there’s Kirk’s complex … which is nicer, but also usually full.”
Madison sighed and reached for her drink, saying, “Well, I imagine it’ll be a while before she’s saved up enough, so I guess I have time to figure it out.” She didn’t say the rest of that thought. But she really wanted the town to be a safer place before her mother moved up. Still, with a little luck this insanity will be long over before she gets here.
Nate shifted, leaning forward over the small, cluttered table, and asked, “Does this mean that I’ll get to meet her when she gets here?”
Refocusing, Madison’s lips lifted again and she replied, “There would be nowhere you could hide even if you wanted to.”
“I like her already,” Nate declared with a laugh as he leaned back and lifted the final bite of his sandwich to his mouth.
Madison caught herself smiling at him as he finished his lunch. How many boyfriends actually wanted to meet their girlfriend’s parents? And, despite the drama currently surrounding them, she found herself wondering how much more perfect he could get.
****
After spending over an hour and a half with her head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her in a dark, only semi-occupied theater, Madison found car shopping to be highly frustrating and incredibly overrated. For one thing, they had to walk around a ridiculously large, sloped parking lot with a stranger who only saw money signs when he looked at them. And for another thing, half the time, she was standing back and only watching as Nate examined his choices. On the other hand, she admitted silently as Nate bent slightly to peer into the car through the window, he does look good in those jeans.
She had pulled her lip between her teeth when Nate straightened and again shook his head. “This isn’t it,” he declared for the fifth time.
“Are you sure?” the salesman asked carefully. He gestured to the car and reminded Nate about some of its advanced features, hoping to change Nate’s mind.
Madison tuned the other man out and let her eyes wander over the field of multi-colored, reflective, metallic surfaces. Cars, SUVs, trucks, and little boxes with wheels were scattered around them in a seemingly unorganized pattern. It had been years since she’d stepped foot onto a car lot, and the last time—like this time—she hadn’t even been looking for herself. Although, if I had been, at least I could have afforded a few of those. Nothing on this lot was anywhere near her price range.
“All right, then,” the salesman declared, finally surrendering to Nate’s decision to keep looking. “I think I’ve got something that would interest you over here,” he added, sweeping his arm out before turning and guiding them away from the latest reject.
Madison pulled her attention back to the moment and turned to follow them once more, but she’d only taken a few steps when her eyes landed on a car just off to the side. They were walking away from it, but something about the expensive vehicle was screaming at her. Or, more accurately, it was screaming at her to get Nate’s attention. “Nate,” she called, holding her place and turning her eyes toward her boyfriend.
Nate stopped and turned to face her. “What is it?”
She pointed to the metallic, grayish-blue car and said, “What about that one?”
Obediently, Nate turned his gaze to follow her finger. His lips lifted and he let out a low whistle when he saw what she was pointing to. “You really do want me to buy a chick magnet, don’t you?” he teased before lifting his voice to the salesman and calling, “What about this one?”
Nate and Madison had already begun walking toward the shining convertible by the time the salesman started after them, quickly launching in to the car’s details. Again Madison hung back as Nate lightly ran his fingertips over the hood, listening to the salesman. And she couldn’t help but laugh at herself when she learned that she’d pointed Nate toward a Ferrari California.
“What do you think, Maddie?” Nate asked when the salesman paused to take a breath.
She blinked at him for a second, before glancing to the car behind him again and saying, “I think it suits you.”
He inclined his head, respecting her answer, and turned toward the salesman. “I’ll take it.”
Madison watched with surprisingly little disbelief as Nate signed all of the necessary paperwork and paid for the car in full—after negotiating nearly twelve percent off the price. When they were done the salesman thanked them profusely for their business, even turning to her and offering to give her “an amazing deal” if she should decide to come back for herself in the near future. And then, just like that, they were making their way back to the Navigator.
“Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to get a car while we’re here?” Nate asked as they walked. He’d asked the question when they’d pulled into the parking lot, but he asked again anyway.
“No way am I letting you buy me a car,” Madison returned with a shake of her head. A car was just too much this early in any relationship. “I’ll let you drive me around until I can figure something out, but that’s it.” She paused, then, as they neared the SUV, before asking, “Speaking of—how are we getting both cars back?”
The tell-tale jingle
of keys reached her ears and Madison slowly turned her head to look up at him. He was holding out his father’s keys once again, lips twitching, and he asked, “Which would you rather drive?”
Madison flicked a nervous glance to the suddenly oversized SUV. Before she’d had a car of her own, she’d cut her teeth on her mother’s pickup truck. And, for a short while, she’d had to borrow Doug’s Tahoe. So she knew she could manage the Navigator. But the idea of driving someone else’s car, especially such an expensive one, was still daunting. However, she refused to take away Nate’s opportunity to drive off the lot in his brand-new Ferrari. So she held out her hand and said, “I’ll take the Navigator.”
Nate dropped the keys into her outstretched palm, planted a kiss on her temple, and said, “I’ll go get my Ferrari, then. And thank you, by the way. That was an excellent suggestion.”
Rolling her eyes, Madison half-heartedly pushed him away and said, “Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome. Now go get your car so I can follow you back to town.”
He grinned at her flirtatiously before turning and jogging toward his waiting car.
Madison watched him for a moment, her lips lifting at the corners, and then adjusted her course for the driver’s side of the SUV. She climbed in, locked the doors, and opted to take the moment to reflect on the sudden, and highly unexpected, turn her life had taken.
Barely two months ago she’d moved to Darien for a job, despite the fact that she technically knew no one even remotely nearby. Since then her apartment had been robbed, which had resulted in her moving yet again and ending up in Nate’s backyard. Then her place of employment had burned to the ground because her new boyfriend had enemies with a flair for dramatics. Now she was being threatened by those same enemies, and all because she was dating Nate.
A sane woman would cut her losses, tell Nate goodbye, and walk away. A polite, but sane, woman would probably take a minute to wish him luck first. And, really, that same sane woman would probably also decide that just breaking up with Nate wouldn’t be enough, so she’d likely get things in motion to leave town. Or maybe even to leave California. And not all that long ago, Madison had considered herself a sane, rational woman.
But she didn’t have to think about it to know that she wasn’t going to walk away from Nate Hawke. He had a hold on her that she couldn’t put into words and didn’t fully understand. All she knew was that she intended to stay with Nate, which meant keeping her job and not leaving town. And she didn’t feel a single ounce of regret about that decision.
****
“What about ‘Vince’?” Dean asked after dinner that night. The family was again gathered in the large family room, and Nate and Madison had already made sure to inform them of the note that had been left on her refrigerator. Dean didn’t seem to be able to let go of trying to guess the elder Matthews’ name. “Or maybe he goes by ‘Vinnie’?”
“That’s enough, Dean,” Lillian said on a sigh.
Dean made a face and leaned back against the couch. “Well at this rate we might as well guess,” he grumbled.
The family fell into a tense, frustrated silence with his words. No one had said it, but they were all thinking the same thing. They had expected—hoped—to hear a response by now. Instead they had heard nothing. The closest they had come to contact with their enemies was the note Madison had found on her fridge. And now they didn’t know what to do.
Angela frowned as the silence began to feel heavy, lifting her eyes from the floor and looking around. She was wedged on the smaller couch between her mother and Logan, with her father sitting on her mother’s other side. Across from them, on the larger couch, Dean was semi-sprawled out beside Blake and Brooke, and Nate and Madison were tucked into the opposite corner. And as her eyes landed on Nate, she decided to break the weird silence that was shrouding them, so she said, “I can’t believe you bought a Ferrari.”
For a beat, everyone looked over at her, surprised that she’d spoken and needing a moment to orient themselves to the new string of conversation.
Nate recovered first and the corner of his lips lifted in a teasing grin as he replied, “Says the one who still can’t decide what car she wants. How long have you been looking now?”
Mock-glaring at him, Angela said, “There’s nothing wrong with making an informed decision, thank you very much.”
Joining the conversation again, Dean quipped, “Hey, take all the time you need, Angie. The longer you’re not driving the longer I go without a heart attack.”
Angela rolled her eyes at him even as their siblings laughed and she said, “I resent that! I’m a much better driver than you!”
“No,” Dean corrected, grinning broadly, “you’re a much slower driver than me. I’m an amazing driver.”
Swallowing back his laughter, Blake turned his attention to their sister and said, “Whatever you do, Angie, don’t take driving advice from Dean.”
“Hey!” Dean cried, feigning insult.
Their laughter was interrupted by the sudden, unexpected ringing of the telephone.
Everyone immediately fell silent, choking back their laughter with a sharp shot of sobriety. All eyes shifted to the wall-mounted home line extension as it rang again.
“Who’s gonna get that?” Angela asked quietly, her voice barely a whisper.
Christopher took a breath and pushed to his feet. “We can’t assume it’s them,” he said in a similar tone as he crossed briskly to the phone. It was ringing for a third time. One more ring and it would go to voicemail.
They held their breath as he lifted the phone from its cradle and calmly said, “Hawke residence.” His brown eyes narrowed as he listened to the speaker, and it was a long minute before he said, “Yes, I understand. I’ll let them know.” Again he fell silent, listening, and the tension built even higher. “Yes,” he repeated firmly. There was a pause, and then he pulled the phone from his ear and placed it back into the cradle.
As Christopher released a heavy breath Angela asked, “…Was it them?”
“His name is Victor,” Christopher began by way of explanation as he turned back toward his family. “And he’s accepted the challenge. He said that the four of them will meet the four of you exactly ten minutes north of town at precisely eight o’clock Monday morning.”
“Monday?” Dean repeated incredulously. “That’s four days away!”
Christopher inclined his head. “And there’s probably a reason they want to wait.” Shifting his gaze to his three other sons, he added, “Victor made it clear they expect you’ll be alone.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Blake replied calmly.
“Uh, no,” Angela interrupted, narrowing her eyes on her brother. “I’m going with you. What if one of you gets hurt?”
All four of her brothers, as well as her mother, turned their attention to her and declared, “Absolutely not.”
“Ange,” Blake began, leaning forward to meet his sister’s gaze solidly, “so far as we know, there are four of them. So if they all show up for the fight, and we all show up for the fight, we’ll have as good a chance as we’re going to get. And while we’re fighting them, the rest of you will be safe.”
“I don’t care about that!” Angela returned vehemently, shooting to her feet as if that would improve her argument. “What you’re going to be doing is dangerous! You need someone with you to make sure you don’t die!”
Lillian reached up, grabbed her daughter’s tightly clenched fist, and tugged her back onto the couch as she said, “Angela, sweetheart, you need to understand. You need to survive. Of course we don’t want to lose anyone —and we can’t go into this assuming that we will, or we’ll have already lost—but if you’re hiding just out of sight, your brothers will be distracted. And if they’re distracted, they won’t be able to focus on defeating our enemies.”
“But—” Angela began, wanting desperately to ignore her mother’s argument.
Logan’s hand landed on Angela’s shoulder and he said, “If any of us gets hurt
, we’ll let you heal us as soon as we get home, okay?”
Angela spun, yanking her hand free from her mother’s grasp and tossing her brother’s hand from her shoulder as she cried, “No, it’s not okay! I should be there to help!” And she shot to her feet once again, this time turning and running blindly from the room.
Chapter Thirteen
Christopher leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “While your sister’s out of the room, we should talk.”
“What’s to talk about?” Dean asked bluntly. “We have to be out there Monday morning, and we have to fight until they’ve either surrendered, run away, or they’re dead. Otherwise we’ll be the ones who end up dead.”
No one spoke for a long moment, knowing that, whether they liked it or not, Dean wasn’t wrong.
Madison shifted silently, leaning more into Nate without lifting her eyes from the floor. As ridiculous as it sounded—even to her own ears—now that they had a concrete date for the confrontation, everything suddenly seemed more real. Too real.
“That’s all true,” Christopher relented with a drawn out sigh. “But I want to make sure you all understand: I know you’re upset over everything they’ve done to us—recently and in our past—but this isn’t a personal vendetta. Work together whenever you can. Don’t let your anger at one of them blind you to the actions of the other three.”
“How can you say it’s not personal?” Dean asked, keeping his voice down despite the obvious tightness in his words. “Of course it’s personal. I wanna burn Eric to ashes for what he did to Angie. And if Victor really is responsible for what happened to our uncles, he deserves to burn in his own personal hell, too.”