The Maxwell Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Alexander, S. B.

  As he drove, I leaned back and relaxed, breathing in his masculine scent. I’d been replaying the kiss between us when he pulled into my driveway, and everything around me disappeared, including Kade. Suddenly, I struggled to breathe as I stared at the dark, ominous house. There wasn’t a single light on. I remembered turning on a few lights before I left. Then my breathing grew shallow, and the sides of my vision darkened as I took hold of the truck door with a shaky hand. A buzzing sound whirred in my head. I tried to get oxygen into my lungs, but it was like someone had cut off my airway. I couldn’t stop the panic attack or the visions. I shook my head several times as I tried to escape my memories, but it was too late.

  The large house had been dark as I got out of my car. Not one light glowed. Even the lights on the outside of the garage were off. Something was wrong. Mom’s Audi was in the driveway and the garage door was open. Mom never left the garage door open, even when she was home. Julie’s Volvo sat in the driveway, too. Why was she home? She wasn’t supposed to be home from her friend Melissa’s house until tomorrow. As soon as I stepped into the bay of the garage, a strong odor penetrated my nostrils, a mixture of sweat and a man’s cologne. It wasn’t my dad’s cologne, either. He didn’t even wear the smelly stuff—it irritated Mom. I covered my nose with my hand as my brain suddenly became fuzzy.

  I climbed the few steps to the door leading inside the house. I turned the knob, pushed the door, and tentatively walked in. I flipped the light switch next to the door, but nothing came on. I hesitated before going any farther. I took out my phone and hit the button so the backlight on it would help guide me. As I headed down the hallway, bile rose in my throat. Unlike the smell in the garage, the scent inside had a strong metallic odor. Every hair on me stood up.

  “Mom,” I called out, but I didn’t get an answer. “Mom,” I called again, but nothing. Where was she? Why wasn’t she answering?

  Suddenly, someone was calling my name.

  “Hey. Lacey. What’s wrong?” a familiar-but-scared voice asked.

  Pain seared from my right elbow up through my shoulder, and I screamed.

  “Lacey? Lacey? Can you hear me?”

  My vision blurred, then a flash of light blinded me before a hot wind breezed over my face. I blinked a few times. On my last long blink my vision cleared a little, my breathing still shallow. “K-K-ade?”

  I was leaning against the garage door, and Kade was standing in front of me.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his hands around my face.

  “How did I get out of the truck!”

  He studied me with a mixture of fear, sympathy, and pain. “Shhh. You don’t need to scream.”

  Oh, my God. This couldn’t be happening to me. Breathe. I had to get away from him. He couldn’t see me like this. He was probably thinking I was mental. I shook my head, but he wouldn’t let go. I balled my hands into tight fists and swung.

  Letting go of my face, he grabbed my wrists. “Stop. I don’t know what’s happening here. Please,” he begged, his words floating like ice in a sea of fear.

  Wincing, I stilled. I wasn’t prepared to tell him. Of all the people to witness one of my episodes, it had to be him. This guy must think I was a freak show.

  My vision darkened, and a warm feeling blanketed me. Oh no, please don’t shut down on me. I can’t pass out. Not now.

  “You need to tell me what to do here, Lace. I’m at a loss.” His left hand moved to my lower back, and the other moved to the nape of my neck.

  “Kade?” His face became fuzzy as dizziness set in. “I’m probably going to…” My knees gave out, and he caught me.

  “Pass out,” he finished for me.

  “Sorry I—”

  Then the world around me went dark.

  My brain awakened to voices around me, familiar voices. Then a hand brushed my hair. Goosebumps covered my body.

  “Does she always have these attacks?” Kade’s voice registered above me.

  “It depends. Something had to trigger it,” Dad said from a distance.

  Dad? Where was I? I remembered the flashback, Kade asking me what was wrong, and then nothing. If I wasn’t mistaken, my head was in Kade’s lap, and we were sitting on my couch in the family room. The smell of leather furniture surrounded me. My heart fell into the pit of my stomach. Why had Kade had to witness one of my freak shows?

  I kept my eyelids shut for the moment. I wanted to see how far this conversation was going to go. I had to know what Dad was going to tell him. I was already embarrassed. Now I had to find out if I should move back to California tomorrow.

  “Tell me what happened when you drove up,” Dad said.

  Every instinct in me told me to run to my room and lock the door, but I was enjoying Kade’s hands on me. He was tracing the outline of the shell of my ear, and the sensation was soothing.

  “We drove in, and she got out of the truck then walked up to the garage door and threw her elbow into it several times. I tried to get her to stop, but she seemed like she was in a trance, her eyes were wide open as though she just saw something horrible. When she snapped out of it she passed out. I found her keys in her purse, then I brought her in the house and called you. Why does she have attacks?”

  “I’m not prepared to discuss that with you, son.”

  “Mr. Robinson, I might be out of line on this, but have you considered a doctor? I mean therapy.”

  “We have. She missed her appointment on Friday.”

  I was going to kill Dad. Please don’t say any more.

  “I see. I know you don’t want to tell me, and frankly, I don’t blame you. It isn’t any of my business. But I can tell she’s been through some type of trauma. If it helps, my dad is a psychiatrist for the military. He counsels a lot of the veterans coming back from battle and other intense situations. He’s on assignment for a few weeks. And it’s just something to think about, but when he returns you may want to talk with him.”

  “I’ll consider it. I should get her to bed.” Dad sounded defeated.

  I could understand. I hadn’t had an attack in six months. The last one hadn’t really been an attack—more of a nightmare. Dad had found me walking into the ocean. I’d never sleepwalked before, but PTSD had different effects on people.

  “I can carry her. Where’s her room?”

  Oh no, Kade wasn’t going into my room. If he ever had the chance to set foot in it, it would have to be under better circumstances. I pressed my head into Kade’s stomach and slowly opened my eyelids.

  His hand stilled on my ear. “Hey there,” he said softly.

  “Sweet Pea.” Dad rose from his chair.

  I sat up. “What are you doing home?” I asked. I didn’t want them to know I had been listening—at least, not yet.

  “Are you okay?” Dad sat on the couch next to me.

  “Yeah. My arm hurts like crazy, though.”

  “Should we get it X-rayed?” Dad knitted his brows.

  “Oh, crap. I have tryouts coming up.” I held my arm.

  “You should put ice on it,” Kade said.

  I was afraid to look at him—actually, I couldn’t look at him. I felt so humiliated. He’d probably never want to see me again, which was probably for the best. I had to concentrate on baseball anyway. I ran out of the room, down the hall and into the guest bathroom, closing the door. Immediately, I dipped my head in the sink and splashed cold water on my face. Taking a towel off the rack, I dropped down on the bench in front of the vanity and patted my skin dry.

  The TV wasn’t on, so their voices resonated clearly.

  “Is she going to be okay?” Kade asked.

  “She’ll be fine,” Dad said. “It’s late. You should get going.” His voice sounded tired.

  “I’ll have the car towed to my house tomorrow,” Kade said.r />
  Hmm. It sounded like they’d already talked about my car. What else had they discussed? Did Kade bring up the gun incident? Did Dad share anything else about me?

  “You don’t have to do that, son. I can get it tomorrow.”

  “I insist. Please, let me work on it. I’ve been dying to get my hands on one of those cars and play a little. My dad doesn’t let me touch his cars all that much.”

  “Sure. I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

  Great! Now what was I going to do for a vehicle? If he had my car that would mean I would have to see him again soon. Their voices trailed off, and the front door shut. I slunk out of the bathroom and went back to the family room. Pulling a blanket out of the wicker basket, I unfolded it and curled up on the couch. Aside from the humiliation and my arm throbbing, I was tired. Panic attacks always wore me out. My eyes drifted shut.

  “Do you want to talk about it, Lacey?” Dad asked.

  The cushion dipped near my feet.

  “Is Kade gone?” I asked.

  “He is,” Dad said. “Now what happened?”

  I sighed heavily. “The house was dark, Dad—completely dark when we drove up. Just like that night. I freaked. I know I left the outside lights on and a few inside too. Why were all the lights off?” My eyes slid open as I willed the buzzing in my head to go away.

  “I don’t know. I checked the house thoroughly earlier. But I’ll check it out in the morning.” He ran his hands through his hair. His skin appeared ashen, and he had a few more wrinkles around his sad green eyes.

  My heart hurt. “You didn’t have to rush home.”

  “Yes, I did. I’m sorry I wasn’t here, Sweet Pea.”

  “Dad, you can’t be with me every minute of the day.”

  “No, but someone should be here with you at night. I’ve called Mary. She’ll be flying in tomorrow.”

  “What? I’m a big girl. I don’t need a babysitter, Dad.”

  Mary Mills had been our housekeeper back in LA and had become family. I adored her. Still, I was going to be eighteen in a week. I didn’t need anyone to hold my hand.

  “Lacey, Mary is not coming out here to babysit you. It would be nice to have her around. Don’t you think? We do need more home-cooked meals, and she can keep you company at night while I work. And she knows your issues and knows what to do.”

  The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of having someone here at night. After Mom passed, Mary and I had become close. She listened to me and gave me advice when I needed it, especially when Brad broke up with me.

  “How’s your arm?” he asked.

  “Sore. But I think I’ll be fine for tryouts.” The fires of hell could burn me, but I’d pitch through the pain.

  Chapter 8

  I spent Sunday studying for my trig exam. Dad and I decided to forgo our ritual at the gun club. He had some work to do in his home office and needed to pick up Mary from the airport. He’d also found out that there’d been a power outage at about the time I came home on Saturday night. I was relieved it was nothing more than that.

  Becca and I chatted. I apologized for leaving abruptly. She’d said I looked pale, and she wanted to check on Kelton. Once we had that out of the way, she proceeded to tell me all about her and Kelton. It was good to hear how giddy she was about the guy. I just listened. After Brad’s coming-out-of-the-closet news, and the way he’d broken up with me, I wasn’t in any position to give advice on boys. Kelton, though, seemed like a player to me, more so than Kade. I’d tried to erase Kade from my thoughts. Yet every time I touched my lips, an image of his tongue on mine or his hands on me left me daydreaming instead of studying. I had to mentally kick myself in the butt a few times.

  Dad and Mary arrived back at the house late in the afternoon. When she walked in, my jaw dropped. Her petite frame had gone from plump to slim in three months. She’d cut her brown hair in a layered bob, which seemed to shave a few years off her thirty-something age.

  We showed Mary the house. She loved to cook, so she was anxious to see if our kitchen was anything like the one in our house in California. It was roomy, but not as expansive as our old house.

  After she unpacked, we ordered Chinese food. Dad wanted Mary to relax on her first day here. She’d argued with him that she would cook, but we needed to go grocery shopping first anyway. We hung out in the sunken family room off the kitchen, eating and chatting. She told us she’d been cleaning Rob’s apartment once a week. She seemed to think he was doing well. At least, to her he didn’t look so pale or withdrawn anymore. Throughout the week, he was eating meals she prepared for him. Tears stung my eyes as I listened. I missed him. I made a mental note to call him. With the time difference, it was hard to connect.

  On Monday morning, I sauntered into the kitchen, moving my arm around. Stiffness had set in overnight, and today my arm hurt more than it had on Sunday morning. I was trying to keep it loose—tryouts were two days away. The hand I’d punched Kade with fared better than my arm at the moment.

  “Good morning, Lacey,” Mary said, flipping her famous blueberry pancakes on the griddle. “Hungry?” Her brown eyes appeared tired.

  “What are you doing up so early?” I hopped onto a stool at the kitchen island.

  “I couldn’t sleep. So, pancakes?”

  “I could always eat your pancakes. You know that.”

  She’d never been married. When I’d asked her why, she’d responded, “I haven’t found the right man.” The man she did find was going to be one lucky dude. The woman knew how to cook.

  “So, who’s the boy, and why didn’t you tell me about him?” She handed me a glass of orange juice.

  “Excuse me?” It was a good thing I didn’t have juice or food in my mouth—otherwise she’d be wearing it right now.

  “Some sweet boy, Kade, called here this morning. He wanted to know if you needed a ride.”

  My mouth was hanging open. After my panic attack on Saturday night, I didn’t think he would want anything to do with me. Butterflies fluttered inside me. “He’s just a…” I didn’t know what he was. I’d only just met him. “He’s in one of my classes, and he’s supposed to be fixing my car.”

  “You mean your father is still trying to push that clunker on you?”

  “Yep. He loves that Mustang for some reason.”

  “Good Lord,” she said, wiping her hands on a paper towel.

  “So what did you tell Kade?” I took a sip of OJ, looking at the pulp in the glass.

  “That a boy shouldn’t be calling a girl’s home so early in the morning. And that if you wanted a ride you would call him.”

  Why was I surprised? Mary always read Brad the riot-act if he was out of line with his manners when it came to women. The first time she unleashed her wrath had been the night Brad was my date for one of Mom’s charity events. Mary had stayed late that night to help with my hair. When she escorted us to the car, Brad jumped in before me. Her eyes narrowed to slits. Red-faced, she’d directed him to get out and open my door.

  “Is he cute?” she asked, looking at me intently.

  Cute wasn’t the word to describe Kade. “Well, he’s not gay.” I had to get the elephant out of the room. Mary had been at the house the afternoon Brad came over to breakup. I had a meltdown, throwing anything in my room I could get my hands on. She’d been there to comfort me. “And, yes, he’s hot.”

  “I guess I’ll have to meet him,” she said, turning toward the griddle, flipping the pancakes. The warm, delicious scent of sugary bread permeated the kitchen.

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “And why is that?” She set down a plate of pancakes on the island in front of me.

  “I’m not here to get involved with anyone. I’m on a mission this year. And heaven help me, I need to get my PTSD under control.” After Saturd
ay, I wasn’t so sure I could. But I would die trying.

  “I’m here to help, Lacey. And I know you want that scholarship. My advice, though…have fun. You deserve it.” Leaning forward, she reached over from the other side of the island and rested her cold hand on top of mine.

  I wanted to have fun. I wanted to have friends. But after what happened on Saturday night, I was even more frightened now. I couldn’t let anyone see me like that again. I would die from humiliation. It was bad enough that Kade had. Or what if I got angry and hurt them for ridiculing me? One of my symptoms of PTSD was anger. Suddenly, I wasn’t hungry.

  I did swallow a few mouthfuls of pancakes, even though the nervous butterflies in my stomach were having a field day. I didn’t want to disappoint Mary after she had gone through all the trouble of making breakfast.

  The ride to school was uneventful. Dad and I hardly talked, probably because I was thinking about Kade. My stomach was still swirling with nervous energy, especially as we got closer to school. Part of me was dying to see him. The other part, well, not so much. I needed to thank him for helping me, but that would lead to him asking me questions. What would I say to him? Was I ready to spill all the details?

  By the time Dad dropped me in front of the school, I was already twenty minutes late. The grounds were deserted. I walked briskly toward the doors.

  “Lacey,” a male voice called from behind me.

  Turning, I adjusted my backpack and my eyebrows shot up. Greg Sullivan sauntered toward me, his short legs covering a great distance. I assumed he knew my name from Aaron, since he’d pointed me out in the crowd at the Cave.

  “You’re Lacey, right?” He swaggered as if he owned the world. His thin lips stretched into a sleazy grin. Yuk! His greasy black hair was as bad as I remembered.