Make Me Lose Control

by Christie Ridgway

  So she put the price of a gallon out of her head and drove slowly along the narrow mountain roads, idly checking out the magnificent lake-view homes, while resigning herself to being miserable without company. Then she spotted a familiar truck through a pair of open wrought-iron gates.

  She tapped the brakes, then steered to the side of the road, tucking her small car on the shoulder between an oak and an aspen. Down the long flagstone-covered drive, she saw a man squatting by a lush flower bed. Letting herself out of the car, she decided that a chat with Brett just might settle her down.

  As a man, she doubted he’d detect a disturbance in her force, but he would make a fine distraction. They could talk about baseball or something.

  She called out to him when she was still some distance away. “Hey, how about those Dodgers?”

  He looked up, then rose to put his fists on his lean hips. He wore ancient jeans, work boots and a T-shirt, and leather gloves covered his hands. “Since when do you give a shit about anything professional sports-related?”

  “Maybe I’m expanding my horizons,” she said, noting how light his hair had gotten thanks to its constant exposure to the sun. Women paid a mint for those kind of highlights. “That wouldn’t be a bad thing, would it?”

  He narrowed his gray eyes. They looked a little eerie, their color almost crystalline against his tanned face. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” He wasn’t supposed to notice! “Not one teeny tiny itty-bitty thing.” That was probably overkill.

  His eyebrows rose. “God, you’re a terrible liar.”

  “Am not,” she protested, then hesitated. “I am?”

  Smirking, he shook his head. “Just like I said.”

  Shay frowned. Not that she had any career ambitions to become a con artist or anything, but it seemed like an ability to spout some believable prevarications would be a useful skill. “I don’t know why I’m just learning this,” she said, glaring at her brother. “It seems like something you might have shared earlier in our lives.”

  He snorted. “What were you going to do, practice?”

  “Well, I don’t know. Maybe...yeah?”

  Brett shook his head again. “Lord save me from women.” He bent over to pluck a weed from the loamy earth. “Something’s wrong. Is your nightmare bugging you again?”

  He was the only one she’d ever told about it. Since the fire that had wiped out the ski resort, she’d relived that day in her dreams. Smelled the fire, heard the roar of the flames, saw Dell Walker, covered in ash, his voice hoarse as he shouted.

  And in the nightmare she was frozen as she had been that day, feet rooted as a licking, crackling, destructive monster raced toward her.

  Brett straightened again. “Shay?”

  She opened her mouth, but was saved from having to answer when a car turned into the drive. It was a low-slung luxury convertible—Shay knew zip about makes and models—and it was driven by a young woman with a wealth of dark hair that tumbled in waves past her shoulders.

  When she braked near where Brett and Shay were standing and pushed her oversize sunglasses on top of her head, Shay discovered she was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Golden, sun-kissed skin, dark-lashed brown eyes, a small straight nose and a pretty mouth that was curving in a smile. “Hi, Brett,” she said warmly, her gaze shifting between Shay’s brother and Shay.

  He muttered something that might have been “hello.”

  Surprised, Shay looked at him. While he wasn’t the most gregarious guy in the world, and had been on a brood since getting out of the army a few years back, his attitude right now was borderline rude.

  The woman in the car spoke to Shay. “I’m Angelica. Angelica Rodriguez.” Her gaze slid back to Brett. “Is this your girlfriend?”

  Brett grunted. It could have meant anything.

  Shay stared at him. “I’m his sister,” she said. “I’m Shay Walker.”

  Angelica’s smile, already radiant, brightened like a sunbeam. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too.” It was impossible not to respond to the woman’s open expression and innate friendliness.

  The woman turned her attention to Shay’s brother again. “Brett, I have your check at the house. When you’re done, just knock on the kitchen door and I’ll give it to you. I have some cold lemonade, as well. Freshly made.”

  “It’d be better if you mail the payment.”

  “But—”

  “You’ve got an envelope, don’t you? A stamp?”

  Angelica didn’t lose the pretty smile, but she pulled the sunglasses over her eyes. “Sure. Okay. ’Bye.” The dark lenses shifted to Shay. “Again, nice to meet you.”

  “Yes,” Shay said. “I...” But she was talking to air because the other woman was already accelerating away. She rounded on her brother. “What was that about? Are you getting off on kicking kittens these days?”

  Brett strode toward the back of his truck and began unloading the power mower. “Don’t worry about that useless piece of fluff.”

  Shay’s eyes bugged out. He never talked about women like that. “How horrid. You have three sisters. What if some guy said—”

  “Just leave it alone, Shay.”

  She glanced down the driveway in time to see Angelica climb out of her car. That bounty of dark hair waved halfway down her back. “She’s very beautiful.”

  “Her mother’s a former supermodel—Brielle? Her father’s got more money than God. Angelica used to model herself when she was a child, but then got too fat or wasn’t tall enough. Something like that.”

  Shay’s head was about to explode. “Too fat? That’s—”

  “She told me so herself.”

  “Huh.” As Brett wheeled the mower toward the swathe of grass in the front of the house, Shay couldn’t help but speculate. Angelica had shared with him about her life. Angelica was making him homemade lemonade. Brett was unusually hostile to the lovely woman.

  Brett, like all men, she concluded, could be a raging idiot. “You—”

  “If this is about Angelica, there’s nothing more to say.” Sighing, he glanced over at her. “Can you let it go?”

  “Maybe,” she said, giving in.

  Her brother retreated to his truck for a gas can. “You didn’t answer me about the nightmare.” Over his shoulder, he sent her a look of concern. “Are you doing okay?”

  Her irritation with him disappeared. She didn’t know what was going on between him and this Angelica, and he was closemouthed enough that she’d likely never learn, but he was a good man at the core. A caring big brother.

  Yes, she’d miss sweet Mason and the camaraderie of her sisters when she left the mountains, but being away from Brett would be a hardship, too. He might be too macho for his own good and hardheaded as well, but when push came to shove, he’d never let Poppy, Mac or Mason down.

  She’d insist they take a family photograph before she left Blue Arrow. She had a zillion snapshots on her phone, but she wanted something more formal—a portrait. It would include Ryan, too, because once he married Poppy, he’d be as much a Walker as Shay was, really.

  “Shay?”

  Brett’s prompt pulled her from her thoughts. “Sorry. What?”

  “Nightmare,” he said in a patient tone.

  “Not a problem.” She waved a hand. “And I’m not lying,” she added, when he narrowed his eyes.

  “Okay. But just so you know, the whole family was aware it was you who broke Mom’s favorite pitcher, despite your straight-faced denials and your lame attempts to fob it off on the cat.” He grinned.

  She decided to ignore his remark. “You should do that more often—smile, I mean. You’re a very handsome man.” Definitely getting a professional photo, she decided. Then she’d impress all her new French students with her beautiful big br
other. She’d get two copies—one for her teacher’s desk and one for her room. She’d hang it on the wall, where she could see it every morning when she woke. Thinking of that reminded her of something else she’d like to take with her...those papers she’d considered framing.

  “Brett,” she said, “I really want to find my adoption documents.”

  “Shay,” he replied, shaking his head.

  She frowned at him. “I’ll do the searching. And while I’m at it, I’ll organize everything. Wouldn’t you like that?”

  He gave his attention to the gas can and the mower, filling the tank carefully. The acrid smell rose into the air, causing her to blink away a sudden sting.

  “Come on, Brett,” she said. “Why the reluctance?”

  On a sigh, he set the can down at his feet. Then he strode over to her, placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her face. “Shay...” He glanced to the side as if gathering his thoughts.

  Alarm made her stomach clutch. “What is it?” she whispered.

  He met her gaze, his expression kind. “There are no papers.”

  “What?”

  “Mom and Dad...they intended to. You know Dad, he was big on intentions. But the whole deal...going to a lawyer, drawing up the documents, it would cost money.”

  “But why did they say...”

  “Like I said, intentions. But the fact is, they didn’t think it was really necessary. Because Mom was legally Lorna Walker when you were born, it says ‘Walker’ on your birth certificate. You know that. So there was really no need to do anything further.”

  She stared at him. There was every need! Those papers—that she’d believed had been real—in her mind had partway closed the gap that existed between her and the rest of her family. And now she knew they were just a daydream.

  A connection that didn’t exist.

  She felt...like she didn’t know who she was anymore.

  Swallowing hard, she backed out of her brother’s hold. “I have to go.”

  “Shay...” He moved toward her but she scooted farther away.

  “I’ve got to...got to...”

  Get away. Get a hold of herself.

  The very intention she’d had when she left Jace and London. Running back to her car, she ignored her brother calling her name. Before he could catch her, she had the car started and in gear, and she accelerated away.

  Without thinking, she drove back to the house on the lake. It was where her things were, she told herself, as she braked in the driveway. She’d take a shower, put on some pajamas and hide away for the rest of the night. Jace and London could rustle up their own dinner.

  Surely things would look better in the morning.

  When she opened the front door, Jace came rushing toward her. “Thank God,” he said. “I’ve been phoning but then I realized your cell is upstairs in your room—I could hear it ringing there.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  He ran his hands through his hair, leaving it looking as agitated as he seemed to be. “London.”

  Shay’s hand went to her throat. “She’s hurt?”

  “No. Yes. Fuck. I fucked it all up.”

  She grabbed his arm. “What is it?”

  “I told her the plan,” he said, rubbing the heel of his palm against his forehead.

  “She didn’t take it well,” Shay said, her heart aching for the girl.

  Jace’s expression turned bleak. “She ran off and hasn’t come back.”

  * * *

  LONDON SAT ON the dirty carpet in the boathouse, huddled in the corner with her sweatshirt pulled over her legs. How could the best day she’d ever had become the worst day so quickly?

  It had turned dark just as she ran out of the house. There was moonlight tonight and she kicked herself for not taking the boat keys. She could have jumped into the Fun & Games and gone...where?

  These four walls would have to do. She planned on staying here forever. Jace would be sick with worry—hah!—and when they found her body someday then he’d feel like a total jerk and the whole world would know what a lousy human being he was.

  The rest of his life he’d be sorry. Karma would bite him in the butt and he’d lose all his hair and get a potbelly and develop a limp and have to move into a nursing home where the only food they would feed him would be peas! Breakfast, lunch and dinner—peas. And each time they were served to him he would think of her and how he had done her wrong.

  There was the scuffle of footsteps outside the little shack. She drew farther into the corner, hoping it was just some random resident taking a walk. If it were teenagers looking for more Seven Minutes in Heaven, she was going to have to find another hideout in which to pass her final days.

  “London?” a voice whispered. “Are you in there?”

  “Ames,” Colton said. “Just push open the door and see if she’s inside.”

  “I don’t want to scare her,” Amy hissed. “Why are you so bossy?”

  London didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “I’m here,” she said.

  The door creaked open and two people were silhouetted in the entry. She waved a hand. “This way.”

  “What is this place?” Amy asked, venturing inside. “It’s disgusting.”

  “It’s not so bad,” London said.

  Amy turned to her brother. “You hang out here? How come you never told me? How come I’ve never been invited to hang out here?”

  “You’re too young,” he said dismissively.

  Before Amy could say something that might make London defend her, thus revealing her true age, she waved again to get the pair’s attention. “What are you guys doing here?”

  “Shay called,” Colton said. “We said we didn’t know where you were, but after I hung up, I thought I’d give this place a try.”

  “You didn’t tell them I might be here, did you?”

  “No,” Colton replied. “I didn’t say anything to anyone. Amy and I told our parents we were going out for milk.”

  “We still need that,” Amy said. “I want milk with the pie Mom made. Apple with the crumb topping.”

  London’s stomach churned on its emptiness at the thought of food. She’d not had dinner before running away. Sticking her hands in her pockets, she searched for leftover gum or mints. Nothing.

  Amy traipsed into the dark room and slid down the wall to take a spot beside London. “It smells like mildew in here.” She bumped her shoulder against London’s. “Are you going to tell us what happened?”

  “Parents suck.”

  Colton propped himself against the opposite wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah. At one time or another. It’s inevitable.”

  “I’m going to have five children,” Amy said. “Two sets of twins and then the baby. I refuse to dress the twins alike, however, which just goes to show that as a parent I will not suck. As a matter of fact—”

  “Ames?” her brother said.

  “What?”

  “Shut up,” Colton said. “England, tell us what happened.”

  It poured out of her then. How she’d come to Blue Arrow Lake to get prepared to enter an American high school and that Jace let her assume it was going to be high school here. Until tonight when he’d told her it wasn’t going to be as she’d imagined at all.

  He’d looked her straight in the eye when he imparted the news. It had taken a moment for his words to sink in, but when they did she knew they were no joke. He’d flinched when she yelled, but he hadn’t backed down, not when she yelled some more and not even when she stomped her feet like a spoiled two-year-old.

  So then she’d gotten control of herself and tried reasoning with him, but he had reasons, too. When she couldn’t move him, she’d opted for moving herself out of the house as fast as her legs would carry her
. She was never going back.

  “My father’s signed me up for a boarding school,” London told her friends now.

  Amy scooted to face her. “Why?”

  “Oh, it’s a great school, he claims. Has a stellar computer science department, which he knows I’m interested in.”

  “That...that doesn’t sound so bad,” the other girl said. “I mean, if the computer science stuff is your thing.”

  “I’m enrolled in the summer session, which starts soon.”

  Amy gasped. “Summer school? That really does suck. Everybody knows that the only structured summer activity that’s any good is if you go to something like space camp or drama camp, or I heard of this camp that’s set up like a government and you run elections and—”

  “Ames,” Colton said. “Shut up.” Then he dropped to the ground, to sit cross-legged opposite London. “What’s your dad have against public school?”

  “Nothing in particular I know of,” London said. “But he’s going to be working off and on in Qatar—”

  “Where?” Amy asked. “Is that in Northern California?”

  “It’s in Western Asia,” Colton told her. “God, Ames, for a girl on the honor roll you can be really dim.”

  “Geography is next year,” his sister said, sounding insulted.

  “Never mind,” Colton muttered. “So your dad needs to find a place for you to live and to go to school, is that right, England?”

  “That’s what he says. Where he works in Qatar is very remote...he’s building some sort of solar energy facility.”

  “That’s green,” Amy offered. “Green energy is good.”

  “I don’t give a flying whatever about green energy,” London muttered.

  “I’m sorry,” Amy said. “I don’t always know the right thing to say.”

  “That’s okay.” London yanked her sweatshirt more firmly over her knees. “You’re being nice. Thank you.”

  “So what are you going to do?” the other girl asked.

  “I’m not going. Not to the school and not back to the house.”

  “You’re going to run away?”

  London shook her head. “I’m going to stay here. After a few days without food or water, I’ll just fall asleep and my body will become mummified.”