Trouble with Nathan

by Anna J. Stewart

  “Kit. Ty,” Lydia stammered. “Kit-ty.”

  “Kitty, huh?” Laurel’s smile was radiant as she winked at Nathan. “How about that? A dog named Kitty. I love it. Is that what you want, Lydia? Is her name Kitty?”

  “Kit.” Pat. “Ty.” Pat. Pat. Pat. Tears swam in Lydia’s eyes. “Kit. Ty. Mine.”

  “That’s right.” Laurel said. “Kitty’s yours. Good job, Uncle Nathan.”

  “I take back everything I ever said about you and your lackluster social life.” Morgan bent over to whisper in his ear as Laurel shifted to pull the bow off Kitty’s neck and proceeded to tie it onto the armrest where Lydia could see it. “You were waiting for her. That’s almost enough to make me forgive you for not giving me a heads-up about two puppies.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Laurel had read about families like the Tremaynes and Julianos in books all her life. At times she’d even surrendered to the pull of unrealistic, sickeningly sweet TV shows that made her teeth ache even as she longed to believe. She’d survived her adolescence by steeling her heart and convincing herself families like that weren’t real; that they couldn’t and didn’t exist because nothing was that perfect. It never would be. Not for her.

  Glancing around the overflowing backyard at Nathan’s family and friends, Laurel had to remind herself to breathe as the familiar longing lodged like a boulder in the center of her chest. Watching Kelley and Cedric and Aiden with their new puppy, seeing the absolute joy on their faces had her clutching her cell phone even more tightly. When was Poppy going to call her back? She needed to hear his voice, hear Joey’s. She didn’t want to give in to the fear Alastair’s threats triggered.

  She couldn’t give in. Not to the fear. Not when she saw a way out. A week ago she wouldn’t have believed Alastair could harm her child, but that was before she’d heard the venom in his voice when he said Jackson’s name. Before they’d dragged that Johnny Saxon’s body into the morgue. Her opportunity might have arrived thanks to the crown, but her window was closing. Fast.

  The unending tables of food—just her luck to come to a party where the meal was provided by J & J Market’s owners—made her wonder if the elastic in her skirt was going to hold up. Nathan had been attentive, sending her encouraging smiles when he wasn’t introducing her to other guests, but she was finding the entire gathering a bit overwhelming. A bit too . . . real.

  Normally she was good in crowds; she could either be someone else or disappear. Neither was possible here. Everyone was so friendly, so welcoming and curious, that Laurel wasn’t sure how she fit. She was a liar at best. At worst, a fraud. This vendetta playing out against Jackson and the Tremaynes, the jeopardy the entire family was in, was partly her fault. If she could see a way of protecting them, she’d take it, but she couldn’t choose them over her daughter’s life. If only she hadn’t chosen that house to rob that night five years ago. If only she’d paid closer attention to Charlie’s training instead of assuming she’d never use any of those tactics to be able to feed her child.

  Part of her felt as if she’d been dropped from a helicopter into the middle of a churning ocean, the waves coming at her at disparate times, from every angle, with different intentions. Her head spun with the cavalcade of names and faces. She’d gotten her exercise dodging a determined Theresa Juliano who kept looking at Laurel as if she saw right through her, a frightening prospect after witnessing the power the small Italian woman appeared to wield. Given the stories Laurel had heard, the Juliano matriarch could be playing mental matchmaker. Laurel pressed her lips together and glanced around the yard for the easiest escape route.

  “Don’t run.” The teenage boy she’d seen hanging around with Gage’s twin sisters took a seat beside her on the low bench. “Theresa smells fear. She’ll only track you down later. Stand, or rather sit, your ground.” His reserved smile reminded her so much of herself at that age she couldn’t help but feel an instant liking for him.

  “Sounds like you’ve got this family thing down.” Laurel set her plate on the ground. “They’re . . . something.” Apparently they could also be bloodthirsty if the current badminton competition was any indication. The battle of male vs. female, led by Theresa herself, could end up on the nightly news. Laurel shifted her attention back to the teen. “You must be Drew.”

  “Must I?” There was an edge of defiance in his voice that, when combined with the dark hair and dark eyes spoke of distrust and low expectations. But there was also . . . Laurel couldn’t quite pin it down.

  “Well, it’s not everybody at this party Lydia watches like a hawk,” Laurel said. “In fact, I think I heard her say your name a while ago.”

  “She won’t be able to say it much longer.” Drew grasped his hands between his knees and narrowed his eyes, as if the sunlight hurt. “You were good with her and the puppy. You made her smile.”

  “Puppies make everyone smile,” Laurel said. “How long have you lived here?”

  “A little over six months. Morgan kidnapped me from the emergency room.” He grinned at her shocked expression and then she knew. He was happy here. Accepted. And, no doubt, certain it was all going to come to an end. “I’m kidding,” Drew joked. “She didn’t really kidnap me. But she was there when I was brought in to the hospital.” He lifted the edge of his dark T-shirt and exposed a plastic device and small clear tube. “Diabetic shock. Because of her I was diagnosed and treated. And then given a home. Foster kid.”

  “Me, too.” Laurel hesitated, unnerved by the surprise she saw in Drew’s eyes. Eyes she suspected not so long ago had carried more than a hint of sadness and resignation. Of loneliness. So much about Drew reminded her of herself, of the mistakes she’d made. The wrong decisions she’d made

  “You ever get adopted?” Drew asked in such a casual way she had no doubt the question was anything but casual.

  “No.” Her throat tightened. “When I was fifteen, my foster father offered to, though.”

  “It didn’t work out?” Drew asked, and for an instant, looked as if he was scared of the answer.

  “I didn’t give it a chance.” Laurel cringed and focused her attention on the grass at her feet. “I ran away before it could go wrong.” She’d been out of faith by then. No longer able to believe a family was possible. Charlie had understood. Charlie became her solution—her excuse. Charlie cared about her, understood her. He was . . . safe. It had made sense to fall into his arms; to fall in love with him. Faults, criminal tendencies, and all. With Charlie she didn’t have to worry about letting her guard down. With him, she’d thought she didn’t have to worry about her life crumbling around her. Until it did. “It wasn’t until a few years ago I realized how much I’d hurt my foster father. He’s never said so, but I think I broke his heart.” For that alone, she didn’t think she’d ever be able to forgive herself. At least she’d given him a second chance with Joey.

  She watched as Drew absorbed the confession she’d never made aloud. But if anyone would understand, Drew would. And if her mistakes could help him avoid his own . . .“You like it here.”

  “It’s all right.”

  Laurel arched a brow and gave him the same look she received when someone was calling her on bullshit.

  “Okay, it’s more than all right.” Drew said with what might pass as a laugh. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel real. As if it’s—I don’t know—”

  “Going to disappear the second you think it’s forever?”

  “Yeah.” Drew flipped his bangs out of his face. “You do get it.”

  She got it. She knew how important it was. And that she might have a hand in taking it away from him . . . Laurel cleared her throat and shoved the guilt aside. “I envy you, Drew. Getting that chance, knowing someone wants you to be a part of their family, their lives.” She looked back to the crowd, the parents, children, friends, cops, the construction workers, doctors, and nurses who had all come together to help Lydia celebrate
a birthday she wouldn’t live long enough to see. “I gave up hope a long time ago that was ever going to happen. But I’m glad for you. And for the others.”

  “Morgan and Gage want to adopt me.”

  Laurel recognized the combination of happiness and horror, as if he was too old to be excited about something that normally happened to the young ones. “Let me guess. You said no.” Laurel hunched over, plucked a blade of grass from the lush lawn and twisted it in her fingers. “Because only little children get adopted. And you’re not a child. You want to know something, Drew?” She angled her head so she could look at him and pushed every hope she’d ever had as a child into her next words. “I’d take what you were being offered in a heartbeat. Even at my age. Trust me, that desire to belong to someone, to a family, it never goes away.” It was what she wanted for herself. It was what she wanted for Joey and Poppy. She was just so damned tired of being alone. Damn the Tremaynes and the Julianos for opening their home to her; for giving her a glimpse of the impossible. And damn Nathan for making her believe. “Grab happiness where you can, Drew. You’ve found your place, your people. Don’t deprive yourself of something wonderful just because you think you’re not worthy.” His spine stiffened and he frowned.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Laurel offered an understanding smile. “You didn’t have to.”

  Crash!

  Laurel and Drew shot to their feet as silence boomed across the backyard. It took Laurel a few seconds to scan the party to find the source of the sound. She covered her mouth to stop from laughing when she spotted Kelley swinging a too-large baseball bat behind her. The little girl was spinning like a top, unable to stop as she took out three picnic chairs, two coolers overflowing with ice, and tipped over toward the dessert table.

  “Sorry!” Kelley cried, unable to get her footing as the heavy bat dragged her around until she let go. She dropped to the ground, a mingled look of horror and amazement on her face as her black wig and gold crown plopped onto the grass beside her. “Wow. And that was without my power belt. Uh-oh.” She scrambled onto her knees and scampered away as Gage headed her way, an unreadable expression on his face that, for an instant, had Laurel gasping and ready to step in if his anger got out of control. Drew grabbed her arm, shook his head when she glanced at him over her shoulder.

  Kelley squealed as Gage bent down and tossed her over her shoulder, her giggles exploding through the backyard as she received a loud round of applause. “Grampa Jackson, help!” She cried, arching her back and holding out flexing fingers.

  Jackson, who was busy keeping watch over a raucous round of Twister with Cedric, Aiden, and the newly named puppy Dory, who just kept running, chuckled and told her to watch her aim. “She’s okay?” Laurel asked Drew as she watched Gage flip her around onto his other shoulder, triggering another round of giggles.

  “Gage would never hurt her. Besides, that kid can withstand a tornado,” he said. “But maybe I shouldn’t have encouraged her with the bat.”

  “She should join Little League with a swing like that.” Little League. Laurel gasped, glanced down at her phone. That’s why she hadn’t heard from Poppy. This weekend was Joey’s Little League camping trip and Poppy was along as chaperone. She probably wouldn’t hear from them until they got back within cell range.

  “Are you okay?” Drew asked.

  “Yeah, I’m just expecting a phone call,” she said and finally relaxed a little. She was overreacting. She’d let that phone call spook her.

  A tiny pair of hands slipped around hers and Laurel glanced down to see Cedric—at least she thought it was Cedric, with the soft dusting of freckles across his nose. “We’re gonna play baseball. Wanna come?”

  “Um. Sure?” Laurel glanced toward Drew who nodded. “I’m not real good with a bat though.”

  “I bet you’re better than Kelley,” Drew muttered.

  “Come on. We’re playing out front.” Cedric dragged her through the crowd and past Nathan, and when he winked at her, her face went red-hot. Had he put his nephew up to this?

  On the huge front lawn she saw Gina and Liza organizing the kids as Gage disappeared into the house and Cedric and Drew hurried off to join them. Dory waddled over to her and let out a muffled bark as if to say, “Well, don’t just stand there.” Laurel bent down and took the canine face between her hands.

  “You, young lady, have hit the jackpot for puppies, you know that? You aren’t going to want for a thing with this family.” Woof!

  Click. Click. Click.

  Laurel glanced around for the source of the unnatural, mechanical sound. The hair on her arms stood up as she got to her feet, a rustling echoing from behind the bushes bordering the fence. A twig snapped.

  Dory barked, sharp, loud, and drew the kids’ attention as the she growled low in the back of her throat. Laurel picked up the leash and held it out to Drew, who, when he caught the look on her face, ran over. Laurel held up her hand and walked down the side of the yard, parallel to the footsteps she now heard on the other side. She caught a flash of light and shadow as a figure shoved through the shrubs into the yard next door and raced toward the street.

  An engine rattled to life in the distance. The van from this morning had moved from its initial parking space at the corner to directly across from the Fiorelli house. The grey paneling was rusted and dull, the plumbing logo on the side sagging. Only then did she realize it was one of those large magnets and not painted on the metal.

  The driver pulled what looked like a camera out of sight as he struggled to close the window, but the close-up lens got caught in threadbare seat belt.

  “Hey!” Laurel picked up speed as the man from the bushes dived into the van through the passenger door. “Drew!” She called over her shoulder as the children got closer, the amazed curiosity on all their faces making her shake with terror. “Stay back!” Laurel waved them away as she kicked off her shoes and raced up the lawn and snatched Kelley’s baseball bat out of Gina Juliano’s hands. “Get Nathan!” She ordered Gina as Drew came up beside her. “And Gage,” she called, remembering the latter was an ex-cop. “Watch them,” she told Drew as she hefted the bat of her shoulder and turned.

  Startled cries erupted from inside the van as the engine whined and refused to turn over. The driver, with pinprick black eyes and sallow skin, gaped out his window, stringy black hair falling across his face as he tried to close it in a panic.

  Laurel’s skirt whipped around her calves as she ran full throttle toward the van. “Who are you?” She slapped the bat against an open palm, the urge to do some damage rolling over her like a white-hot wave. Nathan had accused her of stalking his family; said someone was taking pictures. Until this morning, until that phone call, she hadn’t realized just how petrifying the idea was. What if Joey had been playing in the front yard? What if someone was stalking her child? Waiting for a moment to strike . . . An image of Alastair and his cold eyes floated into her mind and ignited the rage into a full blaze.

  “What are you doing taking pictures of children?” She started to swing, but stopped when the driver reached under the dashboard and his passenger ducked and covered his head. “Hands where I can see them!” She struck out and plowed the bat into the driver’s side door. The driver shouted. Her arms burned but she took some satisfaction in the dented metal. “Couple of perverts, are you?” she bellowed and struck out again. Bam! “You leave these kids alone!”

  She swung again, ignoring their panicked cries. All she could see was her daughter, Kelley, and the twins, and little Lydia at the mercy of these . . . whoever they were. Her mind went blank as she circled to the front of the van and plowed the bat into the headlights. She stalked around to the passenger side as the driver drew something black and metal into view. The camera. She smashed the bat into the windshield to distract him. The reverberation made her entire body sing but she had the satisfaction of seeing the passenger duck as s
he hauled back again and took out the passenger window. Glass exploded into the car and back at her. She drew up her arm to shield her eyes as she felt tiny slivers of glass scrape her face. “Give me that!” Laurel whacked the side-view mirror before angling around to the driver’s side windshield.

  “Laurel!”

  She heard Nathan’s voice as if from a distance, but she wasn’t going to be distracted.

  “Camera! Now!”

  Thwak! The windshield spiderwebbed and blocked them from her sight. She hauled back, ready to hit the driver’s side window but the bat was yanked out of her hands from behind. An arm wrapped tight around her waist and hauled her off her feet, spinning her away.

  “Enough, Laurel!” Nathan yelled and threw the bat onto the nearby grass. “What the hell are you doing?” Her breathing ragged, her chest burning, her body aching, she struggled in his arms.

  “He was taking pictures of the kids.” She wanted nothing more than to take out that last window and give these creeps an inkling of the terror they’d brought to life inside of her. “From in the bushes. And from in here.” She kicked her legs, but Nathan’s hold was stronger than she anticipated and kept her suspended. “Give me back the bat!”

  “Laurel, stop. It’s okay. You’re not alone. I’m here.” Nathan’s voice gentled and her mind cleared. The red rage faded as she realized Gage had pulled open the driver’s door and motioned for the driver to get out. “See? We’ve got it now.”