Secrets That We Keep

by Linda Kage

  Next to me, Fox bumped my arm. “Hey. I got you, man,” he told me steadily.

  I sent him a dazed glance, but all he did was nod as if he understood. Then he grabbed the bag of dog shit.

  Creeping closer to the opening of the porch, he stayed out of sight, hidden by the railing as he opened the sack and began to move it around in front of him, bringing out the smell inside and making the entire porch reek.

  Beside me, Trick began to gag again.

  I grabbed his sleeve and pulled him close, rasping into his ear, “I swear to God, if you puke on me, I will hurt you.”

  He nodded but still gagged.

  “Oh Lord,” Bentley said suddenly, reaching the edge of the steps and pulling up short before climbing them so she could turn her face to the side. “What is that smell?”

  Ridgely blew out a breath and shook his head. “I think your dog crapped on the porch.”

  “We don’t have a dog,” Bentley answered, her voice strained.

  “I guess we’ll just have to say goodnight down here, then,” Ridgely told her with a grin as he tugged on her hand and got her to turn toward him.

  Oh Christ. He was going to go in for a kiss anyway?

  What dick still tried to kiss a girl when the moment had been ruined by that kind of stink?

  This wasn’t right. Bentley deserved better than that.

  Incensed on her behalf, and maybe possibly panicking because I absolutely could not witness what might very well be her first kiss, I reacted on instinct, dashing to Fox and ripping the bag out of his hand.

  My dad wasn’t the coach of my football team and I wasn’t the starting quarterback for nothing, you know. I had a damn fine throwing arm, thank you very much. Winding it back now, I threw the bag right at the bastard without thinking my decision through at the very moment he stepped in to make his play.

  I’d warned the fucker to stay away from her. Now it was time for him to pay.

  I hit my target, a perfect bullseye. The only problem I hadn’t taken into consideration was Bentley’s proximity to him and how she would get some spray back on her as well.

  They both hollered in shock and disgust.

  “What the hell?” Bentley cried, immediately spreading her arms and looking down at the splatters on her chest. Then she spun around, aiming a glare at the porch, determined to find out who the culprit was.

  I ducked down next to Fox, who was hissing an incredulous, “Holy shit, man, are you crazy?” while Trick scurried over to hide next to us, quietly cheering, “That was so insanely awesome.”

  Meanwhile, Ridgely was croaking, “Bentley. Oh God, Bentley, help me, I think I’m going to—” just before he threw up all over her.

  “Oh...oh...” she gasped and started to gag too as if she was probably going to vomit along with him.

  “Oh, shit,” I said, starting to stand so I could go and—I don’t know—help out or something.

  But both Trick and Fox grabbed my arms, yanking me back down.

  “You can’t be that stupid,” Trick warned me. “If you go out there right now, she will legit kill you.”

  “Um, she’s going to kill all of us, anyway,” Fox surmised, “which means, we need to run. Right now.”

  It was the only logical plan we had to extend our lifespans.

  Thank God the Parkers had a full wraparound porch. The three of us scrambled toward the corner of the house so we could escape around to the opposite side.

  We parted ways in the backyard, and from there, we separated so none of us could be implicated together.

  I didn’t breathe normally again until I was back home, another seven blocks away in the opposite direction of the Lowes’ house.

  Certain that Felicity was going to call my parents any moment and get me grounded for an eternity, I tried to make myself look as innocent as possible.

  There was always hope I wouldn’t get in trouble for this. I mean, it was a slim, only-a-miracle-will-save-you kind of hope. But that was enough reason for me to kick off my shoes so it’d look like I’d been home all night. Then I climbed onto my bed, grabbed my book bag as I went, and started on homework.

  Just like a good kid who’d never throw shit at some douche who was moving in on his girl.

  And from there, I waited for the fallout.

  Chapter Two

  Bentley

  Someone was going to die tonight. And I was going to relish murdering him.

  Half an hour after taking an extremely long shower and changing into some nice, clean clothes—and still swearing I could smell dog poop and vomit on me—I marched up the steps to the Gambles’ front door and yanked it open without knocking.

  I stepped inside with no hesitation, and found only one occupant in the front room—a man who was in no way related to me but had always felt like a second dad.

  I almost felt bad for him. Not only had he ended up with Satan for a child, but the poor guy had no clue I was about to wipe his only son off the face of the planet in mere moments.

  “Hi, Uncle Noel,” I said in a pleasant enough voice as I crossed the front room and stormed right past him.

  Stretched out in an easy chair with his feet kicked up as he read something on his iPad, he lowered it enough to send me a greeting smile.

  “Hey, Bent...” But I just kept going. I had already hit the hallway by the time I heard him add a belated and confused, “...Lee?”

  Down the hall, the door to Beau’s room was cracked and hanging open a couple of inches.

  Good. That meant he’d at least be clothed and decent.

  As soon as I reached it, I slammed it open as hard as I could, making as much of a racket as possible when my palm smacked off the surface and sent it banging against the wall.

  The boy inside, lounging on the bed in jeans, socks, and a T-shirt, paused from scrolling through something on his phone as he jerked in surprise and looked up.

  When he saw it was me who’d plowed into his room, glaring, he leaped from his bed, crying, “What the hell? You can’t just barge into my room like that.”

  “Whatever,” I sneered, setting my hands on my cocked hips with attitude. “Like you’d really be in here jerking off or something with the door hanging half open.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re allowed to invade my privacy,” he snapped back, gaping as if I’d lost my mind.

  But the only thing I’d lost was my damn patience.

  With him.

  “Well, do you want to know what you’re not allowed to do?” I countered, jabbing a pointy finger in his direction. “You can’t sabotage my dates, you jerk-faced asshole. I mean, dog crap? Really?”

  His face went completely blank as he shut down; a clear sign that he was about to lie. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he swore.

  Oh, that did it.

  Spotting his sneakers nearby on the floor, I picked them up so I could chuck one. Right at his big fat lying head. “You ruined my favorite blouse!”

  “Hey!” He lifted his arms to deflect the blow. It bounced off his elbow and smacked against the wall. “Cut it out!”

  And since he told me to stop, I felt totally justified in launching the second size thirteen at him.

  “Oh my God,” he bellowed, completely ducking the second shoe. “What is your problem?”

  “You are. Don’t you ever lie to me again,” I hissed. “Because you do too know exactly what I’m talking about. I already got Fox to spill everything. You instigated not only tonight’s little episode but all the others too. Every freaking date I’ve ever been on. How could you do that to me? I liked Ridgely, you idiot. Now he’ll never talk to me again.”

  “Good,” he snorted. “Because Ridgely’s a douche.”

  “He’s one of your best friends!”

  “Not anymore,” Beau growled.

  I blinked, wondering what had happened between them to make Beau this pissed. Because I could tell he meant it when he claimed that.

  But then I decided I didn’t care
.

  “Just...” I held up a hand in his direction, blocking him from my view. “Stay away from me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. In fact, from this point on, you’re dead to me. Got it?”

  He only snorted as if I was being ridiculous and overly dramatic. “Yeah, good luck avoiding me in this family.”

  I lifted my eyebrows at the challenge. “Oh? You think I can’t avoid you for the rest of my life? Well, game on, buddy. This is the last time I will ever talk to you again. Because I hate your vile, slimy freaking guts!”

  I spun away to march from the room, only to remember. “And another thing,” I ordered, spinning right back to him as I shook a finger in the air. “Stay away from my brother, too.”

  He only smirked. “Wow, that didn’t last long. I thought you were done talking to me forever.”

  Screaming out my frustration through gritted teeth, I grabbed his wallet I saw nearby, sitting on his dresser top, and I threw that at him, finally beaning him in the face.

  “Oww!” Glaring at me, he clutched his left cheek with one hand and pointed at me with the other. “I swear to God, if you do that again—”

  “You’ll what?”

  When he didn’t have a ready threat to back up his warning, I rolled my eyes.

  “Stay away from my brother,” I repeated. “He doesn’t need your kind of bad influence in his life. Why are you suddenly hanging out with him so much this year, anyway? He’s a freaking freshman. You’re a senior. That just makes you look so much lamer than you already are, you know.”

  “Hey, I’m taking him under my wing,” he snapped, still dabbing at his cheek and poking his tongue at the spot from the inside, testing its soreness.

  Hoping I hadn’t permanently damaged his pretty features, I winced, then sniffed at myself for worrying even a second, and I countered with, “Well, you didn’t take Trick under your wing last year when he was a freshman.”

  He scowled at me. “Trick didn’t need any guiding.”

  “Neither does Fox.” With a snort, I added, “He’d be better off guided by a blind, forty-year-old virgin who’d never even been to high school.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded. “Are you insinuating that I have no game with girls?”

  That seemed like the holy grail of insults to him, so I was going to run with it as fast as I could. Except I noticed his wallet on the floor where it had landed, fallen open, and was exposing one of the pictures he had in the plastic sleeves.

  Blinking, I tilted my head and stepped closer, not quite able to see it clearly from here. But it kind of looked like my senior picture. The color of hair seemed right as did the clothing and one of the stances I had posed in.

  “Is that—?” I took another step forward.

  Noticing the direction of my attention, Beau looked down. His eyes widened in horror.

  “Shit.” Diving forward into my path, he held up a hand to block my view and shouted, “Get out!” Then he bent down, snagged up the wallet, and flipped it shut, where he pressed it against his stomach to keep it from me. When I just blinked at him, he exploded.

  “Are you deaf? I said go!”

  Confused and rattled, I tripped a step backward. When I bumped into his dresser, I spun away and darted from his room, slamming the door behind me.

  My breaths came in strange puffs and my chest felt tight and confined. My steps were rushed, but I didn't outright run.

  When I hit the living room, Beau’s dad was exactly where I’d last seen him, but he wasn’t even pretending to look at his iPad this time. His eyebrows lifted expectantly when I appeared, probably looking winded and scared out of my mind.

  “Bye, Uncle Noel,” I told him as I hurried past.

  “Bye, Bentley,” he said, sounding amused.

  It wasn’t until I was outside again, that I was able to take a complete breath. But my chest felt tight and constrained when I did. I pressed a hand to my sternum, wondering what was happening.

  I couldn’t get that glimpse I’d seen of my picture in Beau’s wallet out of my head, though.

  I mean, seriously? Did he really carry a picture of me around in his wallet?

  I just—I didn’t even know what to think about that. I only knew it made my skin prickle and then heat and then chill almost all at the same time. I shivered and hugged myself, glancing back as if I could still feel him there in his room, holding his wallet to hide the proof of his feelings.

  Oh Lord.

  I whirled back around and walked a little faster, scared over why the thoughts and ideas in my head made me feel so strange.

  Chapter Three

  Beau

  I’d already put my shoes back where they belonged, along with my wallet, and was lying on my bed again when a curious tapping came at my door. I knew it wasn’t Bentley, since she obviously didn’t believe in knocking anymore.

  “Come in,” I called with a deflated sigh, figuring I’d have to answer uncomfortable questions now.

  The door opened, and Dad cautiously peered in through the entrance. When he saw me, he sighed and leaned casually against the doorframe. Then he stuffed his hands into his pockets and asked, “Everything okay?”

  I lifted my eyebrows as if I had no idea what he was talking about. “Yeah, sure. Why?”

  He laughed lightly and shook his head. “I couldn’t help but hear the spat you got into with Bentley.”

  My gut tightened just hearing her name. But I indignantly said, “You mean, the spat she got into with me? Yeah. Must be that time of the month, huh?”

  “Oh, son…” Dad lifted his hands, ridding himself of all culpability. He even took a leery step back as he gave a low whistle. “You better be glad your mother and sister are out and didn’t hear you say that; you’d be begging for a concussion otherwise.”

  I shrugged, pretty sure I wouldn’t have said it if Mom and Lucy Olivia were home.

  Dad sighed suddenly, still watching me. “Did you really sabotage her date with Ridgely?” he finally asked. “With dog shit?”

  “Maybe,” I mumbled on a wince.

  “Damn, kid. That wasn’t too bright. And what’s up with Ridgely anyway? I thought you and he were friends. Wasn’t he one of those boys that was over here just last week?”

  Yeah, he was. And that’s when he’d told me he was going to ask Bentley out. No true friend would ever do that to me. So I narrowed my eyes Dad’s way and mumbled, “Well, we’re not anymore.”

  With a sigh, Dad scrubbed a hand over his hair. “I know this is a crazy suggestion, but have you ever considered just telling Bentley you like her?”

  I snorted, certain the old man had lost his mind before I muttered a very decided, “No.”

  Why would I do that?

  Had he missed the part where she’d screamed that she hated my guts and never wanted to see me again?

  “Communication is key, kiddo. And it might not seem like it, but I do actually know what I’m talking about here. I landed your mom, did I not?”

  He had a point there. He had to have had some mad skills back in his day to snag my mother. As a hard-core mama’s boy, I didn’t think any female could ever outrank Aspen Gamble in my heart.

  Except lately, I couldn’t get a set of bright blue eyes and flaming red hair out of my head.

  It was like Bentley had infested my thoughts. I was downright sick with thinking about her so much; it was beginning to annoy me.

  But seriously, why was she the only thing that seemed to matter these days?

  For as long as I could remember, I’d done radical, insane things just to get her attention. It didn’t even matter if I pissed her off or made her smile. I simply craved for her focus to be on me and nowhere else. It had always been that way.

  But in the last year or so, the need to be around her, doing whatever I had to do to gain her awareness, had doubled. It had turned into a damn obsession and felt like I’d never be free of this need to be near her.

  It was growing harder to settle for
mere glares or smiles from her too. Now, I wanted more. Something physical. So I had to taunt her into slugging or smacking me—just anything to get her to touch me—because nothing beat having her hands on me. I’d even gotten a freaking rush when she’d thrown my shoes.

  I know; I was messed up. And I had no idea how to fix myself.

  Groaning, I slapped my forehead and fell back on my bed.

  “Trust me,” Dad assured from the door. “Just try talking to her. Like a normal human being.” He lifted his eyebrows meaningfully. “You might be surprised by the results.”

  I sighed in defeat. “Yeah, okay. Alright,” I agreed, ready to try anything at this point. Because I couldn’t keep going on this way. I wasn’t just driving Bentley and everyone else crazy anymore; it was driving me crazy too.

  So the next evening, after school, I took a deep breath as I opened the back door to the Parker house and stepped inside. Knox and Felicity were working together to put supper plates in the dishwasher and wipe off the table.

  “Oh, hey, Beau,” Felicity greeted with a pleased smile. “Thanks for coming back over last night and cleaning up the front walk.”

  I winced, chagrined that I’m the one who messed it up in the first place. “Yeah, sorry about that. I, uh…” I glanced around the kitchen, looking for a certain someone, then just bit the bullet and asked, “Is Bentley home?” Lifting the gift bag I carried, I said, “Apology present.”

  Felicity brightened as if tickled by my efforts to make peace, and I felt my face turn a hot tomato red. But God, this was embarrassing as hell.

  “She’s in her room,” her mom told me.

  I nodded and started past them, only for Knox to lift his brows as if warning me to behave, only to murmur, “Good luck.”

  I gulped in trepidation and turned down the hallway. Her door was closed completely.

  When I knocked, her muffled voice called, “Who is it?” instead of the come in I was hoping for.

  Dammit. I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling and clenched my teeth, hating his part. Then I cleared my throat and stepped closer. “It’s Beau.”