by Heather Long
It was official. I just puked.
My mother rose from her chair and took a couple of steps toward me. “But you have always been my first priority.”
Okay, that did it. I looked at her. The cloying nature of her sentiment cluttered the air like the sticky humidity after a late day storm in the middle of summer. I could barely breathe through the thickness of crap she put out.
“Those boys, however,” she said. “I’m just worried about what they’ve put into your head. Drinking the way they do. Partying…the trains of girls they’ve run through.”
My jaw locked.
“Archie and his father…they are having their issues, sweetheart. I don’t want you getting caught up between them.”
Don’t say it. Don’t rise to the bait.
“And that Jake,” she said with a tsk. “I’ve never wanted to be judgmental, but he’s been in how many fights now?”
“Ms. Curtis,” Mr. Dillard interrupted. “I think we’re getting off subject.”
“Actually,” she said, pivoting like a shark slicing through the water. “This is part of the problem. They’re filling Frankie’s head with a lot of noise when she should be focused on finishing school and keeping her head, rather than making irreparable choices and engaging in God knows what with those boys.” Another glance to me, and as thick as she was laying it on, the act still hit me as a calculated gesture. “Baby, I know what I saw them up to this summer, and it’s nothing that I’d ever want you around.”
Wow.
She really went there.
A sound of the main office door opening had me glancing down the hall. Mr. Wittaker paused at the front desk, then motioned toward me before he headed right for me.
“Miss Curtis.” He managed to sound just a tad out of breath and utterly collected. Must be a legal trick. “Sorry for the brief delay, this was an unexpected summons.”
“You’re right on time.” Now, I stepped back a foot to let the lawyer enter the principal’s office before I followed him. “Mr. Wittaker, this is Mr. Dillard, my principal, and the woman standing there is Madeline Curtis. The defendant in my suit.”
The verbal slap landed, and Maddy’s civilized veneer thinned as she glared at me. “Your mother,” she corrected me.
I bit my tongue to curb the response. Mr. Wittaker gave me an approving nod after shaking Mr. Dillard’s hand. Smoothly, he glanced from one to the other, including them both in the conversation. “Mr. Dillard, I’m actually glad you could be at this meeting, it will save me a little time.”
He set a case down on a chair and opened it before he removed two sets of papers. He passed the first one to Mr. Dillard and the second to my mother.
“I would recommend you have your attorney review that, Ms. Curtis,” Mr. Wittaker informed her. “As Frankie’s attorney, I represent her interests. This is an emergency injunction granting Frankie temporary emancipation until the court hears her case. As such, Ms. Curtis’ rights and privileges are hereby revoked. She will have no more access to Frankie’s records, accounts, or the right to check her out of the school. Frankie will self-manage in the meanwhile with moderate support from my office.”
Mr. Dillard frowned as he reviewed the document, then glanced at my mother. Disapproval flashed in his eyes, but he focused on my attorney, then me. “I see. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Frankie, I’m sorry for inhibiting your day. If you would like to return to class, just get a note from…”
“Wait a damn minute,” my mother said abruptly as she snapped her gaze up. “You can’t just emancipate her and remove my rights. I’m her mother.”
“I applied for the injunction,” Mr. Wittaker said smoothly. “The judge granted it. All the pertinent details are in that document. Consider yourself legally on notice, Ms. Curtis. You are to have no further contact with Frankie, beyond having your attorney speak to me, and I will transmit the messages to her.”
I wanted to smile. But I didn’t.
Freedom from Maddy was what I’d wanted, but it wasn’t a good thing. The hurt in my mother’s eyes cut at me. It didn’t matter if it was a play or just one more calculated maneuver. I didn’t think she faked it.
Guilt nibbled at me, and I locked my jaw.
“Frankie, it’s been you and me from the beginning. You can’t want this…” She tried to get close to me, but Mr. Wittaker shifted his stance.
Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how big of a man he was, but he blocked my view of her easily enough.
“You don’t get to just take my child away!” Something in my mother’s voice cracked. “No one gets to take her away. She’s mine.”
“Frankie,” Mr. Dillard said, hustling around his desk. “Go to class, hon.” Oh, he did not have to tell me twice.
“Yes, go to class. I’ll call you later,” Mr. Wittaker told me. I didn’t even make it halfway across the office before my mother’s voice turned strident, harsh, and threatening.
Yeah. I was gone.
Jake was on his feet as soon as I arrived in the library. There wasn’t even five minutes left to study hall. “Where the hell have you been?”
The hissed question reminded me about my phone on silent. I dragged it out. Messages from the guys filled the screen—all of them worried.
“One sec,” I told him. After I sent a message telling them I was fine and would fill them in after school, I told Jake my mom had been in the office and what happened with my attorney.
His expression darkened significantly, but the relief spilling through his eyes when I said Mr. Wittaker came through with the temporary injunction pulled at me. I glanced around us and found no one nearby or watching, and then just wrapped myself around Jake. His arms folded me close, and I closed my eyes.
“Baby Girl,” he said in a hushed voice. “You’re shaking.”
I had to get a grip.
And all to soon, I had to let Jake go. “I’ll be okay.” I pasted on a smile.
Fake ‘til I make it, right?
Yeah. That didn’t really fly with the guys.
Jake filled them in before I could, and after school resulted in a tense meeting at my apartment. Archie left after to talk to his grandfather. Ian had to go home for the evening, but promised he’d stay over on Tuesday. He even asked if I’d be willing to just go out with him for an hour Tuesday—just the two of us.
“On a date?” Yes, I probably sounded as skeptical as I felt. As much as I wanted to figure this out between us, I wasn’t sure I was up for it. Not really.
The sick feeling in my stomach just wouldn’t go away.
“Nope,” Ian said, surprising and disappointing me all at the same time. “I need your help. Promise I’ll tell you all about it.” Then he glanced to where Coop and Jake were making no pretense of not listening. “It’s a secret.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s not code for it might be a date if it goes well?”
He grinned. “It can be a date if that will get you to say yes.”
“Yes to an hour doing whatever your surprise is.”
“So that’s a date then,” he said the last bit with a teasing grin, and it helped. Dammit. It was hard to stay irked with him, even in my current uneven mood. Still, would dating him be a good idea?
If he hadn’t freaked out…
If he hadn’t told me all those things about the guys and their points…
If he hadn’t walked away, saying he just wanted to be friends…
If… If… If…
“Maybe,” I told him, and he nodded before brushing a kiss against my lips so fast I barely had time to register the contact before he was already heading for the door.
“I can work with maybe. I’ll call you before bed, Frankie. Call me if you need me.” Then he was gone.
I touched a finger to my lips.
“That was good, right?” Coop mused.
“I don’t know,” Jake answered. “On a scale of one to ten, I’m thinking a five because vague as fuck, but two points extra cause he did
actually get her to say yes.”
“And a kiss, he scored a kiss.”
“That wasn’t winning a kiss. He gave her a kiss,” Jake argued. “That’s different. Pretty shitty kiss, too.”
Sliding a look at them, I said, “You’re not funny.”
Coop grinned. “We’re hilarious.”
“And you adore us,” Jake added on. “So what are we doing tonight?”
“You, I hope,” Coop continued. They both grinned widely, knocking elbows once like they’d coordinated it.
“Asses. Both of you. And no—you’re not doing me…at least, not right now.” Because…well to be honest, the other day had been all kinds of hot and intense. I grimaced and glanced down at my cast. It was a little lighter than the splint, but that wasn’t saying much. I swore my bones ached.
“You hurting?”
“Yeah, but I can’t take anything yet. I need to try over the counter stuff first, ’cause I still have homework and I need you guys to take me to the mall.”
They both paused, then asked in a dead similar tone, equal parts dread and caution, “Why?”
“Archie’s birthday. I need to go buy him a present.” I’d totally blown it on Coop’s. “And you still need one, too.”
“I got my present,” Coop said with a sly smile. “I got a day with you. And the night after. Best present. Ever.”
“I’ll remember that the next time you start bitching you want your game system upgraded,” Jake muttered.
“Oh like you wouldn’t give up a game system for a day with Frankie. Please.”
I grinned. It was a ridiculous conversation, but it helped.
“Mall?” I asked. “Please? Before this hurts so much I don’t want to do anything.”
“Sure thing, Baby Girl. We’ll even swing by that Indian place there and let you get all the naan bread you can eat.” Jake’s offer had my stomach snarling.
Yeah. I was easy.
Now, what the hell did I get Archie for his birthday?
Hopefully, Tuesday would go better than Monday, save for the rocky start. There had been no sex with guys, as nice as that might have been. After a damn near fruitless shopping trip and getting homework done, I hurt too much and I was too tired. But curling up with them while I talked first to Ian, then to Archie before we went to sleep had been nice.
When I had a hell of a time relaxing, Jake had gone to work on massaging my feet while Coop stroked his fingertips against my scalp. I was out in less than five minutes.
Nightmares had woken me a dozen times. It was probably the worst night’s sleep I’d had since my first couple of days after Homecoming.
The guys hovered, even when they weren’t trying to. I was a mess. And Ian still wanted to go do a surprise that night. As hard as I tried not to be cranky, I was losing that battle.
Mr. Wittaker hadn’t called on Monday like he said, but he did call on Tuesday and left me a message. He had all the pertinent details, like what the injunction covered, and he sent a copy to my email to keep on hand, another would be couriered over before the end of the day.
By the time school wrapped for the day, I half-wished I’d told Ian no, but I wouldn’t back out at the last minute. Jake drove us back to my apartment while Ian followed on his bike.
Before I could ask how we were going anywhere, Ian opened the passenger door of Jake’s SUV. Coop had planned to run some deliveries right after school. Yes, I was a little sour that they were finding ways to work and I still had to call Marsha about my arm. It wasn’t their fault.
“Mind if I drive your car?” Ian offered. “Or if you’re up for it, you can drive.”
Some of my bad mood dissipated.
“Um…” Jake started.
“It’s an automatic. Frankie’s a good driver,” Ian said. “And she hasn’t driven her car in weeks.” Then he looked back at me. “That said, if you’re tired or you hurt, I can totally do it. I just… Not the bike yet.”
I liked his bike.
I’d liked it a lot from the first time I got to ride it.
But now that he’d brought up my car…hell yes, I wanted to drive it. “Maybe I drive there, and if I’m too tired, you can drive us back?”
Ian’s cheeks curved with his smile. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
Jake still scowled, but I pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I’ll be careful,” I promised him.
“You better be,” he said tersely, but he wasn’t looking at me so much as at Ian.
Yeah, yeah. Jake was the one who said I should give him a chance if I wanted to. Same should apply to the car, right?
Once in the driver’s seat, I let out a breath that felt like I’d been holding for weeks. I really hadn’t driven my car all that much, not since it got covered in condoms. To work and back, sure. A couple of errands even, but after Homecoming? Not even that much.
It was a little awkward to buckle my seatbelt or start the car with my right arm in a cast. “Can you…?” I asked Ian after he settled into the passenger seat and belted in.
“Yes, I can,” he said easily enough, reaching past me to pull the seatbelt down and then locking it in. Then he slid the keys in and started it. “Want me to change gears, too?”
I made a face. It would be easier if he did it. I didn’t think just how much I needed my right arm. Fuck, I hated Mitch.
Agitation buzzed under my skin.
“Please,” I ground out between my teeth.
“Hey,” Ian said softly. “I’m not trying to be pushy.”
“You’re not,” I said, blowing out a breath. “It’s just…”
“You want to be able to do it yourself.”
“Yeah,” I admitted. He put the car in reverse, and I backed out. I wasn’t rusty, but it still took adjustment ’cause I kept reaching to use my right hand and I had to remember to keep it up. It was better to keep it above my heart.
Aware of Jake watching us until I headed for the street, I tried to get a grip. “I’m sorry that I’m being cranky.”
“I can take it,” Ian offered.
When I shot him a look, he shrugged.
“Angel, I can take just about anything where you’re concerned, except you shutting me out. Granted, I’m the one who put myself on the outside, but I’m at the gate. The minute you let me in, I’m never going to waste my chance again.”
It was sweet.
It helped.
“I don’t…”
“You don’t have to,” he hurried on. “I mean it. You don’t. When you’re ready, you’re ready. Until then, let me have it with both barrels. If you need to vent, especially if you need to vent, or if you just want to scream it out. I can take it.”
“I’m not mad at you.”
“Eh,” he said, making a so-so motion. “You’re at least a little still mad at me.”
Okay. Maybe I was.
“I don’t want to be mad at you.”
“That means everything,” he promised.
A real smile tugged at my lips this time. “You’re kind of crazy.”
“About you? Absolutely. Now, do you want to know where we’re going?”
“That would help,” I told him.
He grinned, “Bonner Street Music, off of Main.” Which to anyone else probably wouldn’t make sense, except where Main Street wasn’t downtown, it was called Bonner.
I turned out before I asked, “Why there?”
“It’s a surprise,” he reminded me, and I rolled my eyes.
“Right.” Then I made a face as a dozen different ideas tumbled through my head. I’d gone to Bonner Street Music with Ian a few times in the last couple of years. It was a music school, mostly for younger kids. Ian had apparently studied piano there when we were all younger. But most of the time, when we went it was to get sheet music or to repair one of his guitars. They had a great music shop there.
It was where I’d gotten him the sheet music for his birthday.
When we got there, I found a place to park in the little lot behind the buildin
g. The drive had been a little more nerve-racking than I wanted to admit. One hand controlling the wheel made me extra cautious. Still, when we got there, it was totally worth it.
I loved that the guys would take me anywhere and they wanted to do it. But I didn’t realize just how much I’d missed my freedom driving on my own.
“Feeling okay?” he asked after I parked.
“Um, a little nervy, but…yeah. I’m okay.” Better, actually. It had helped with some of my shitty mood. “I’m ready for my surprise now.”
Ian grinned. “Then come on.”
Inside, he made a beeline for the main desk and got a key, then signed in to the logbook. “Thanks, Marlene.”
“Have fun, sugar,” said the older woman behind the desk with her bright maroon, clearly from a bottle hair, with a genuine smile. Ian held out his hand, and I clasped it, the gesture a little easier than all the other contact combined.
He led the way through what was a series of semi-darkened hallways, past practice rooms—soundproofed because they had all kinds of students from drums to guitars to pianos to a dude actually playing a tuba. Ian didn’t slow long enough for me to do more than glimpse in to each door.
When we got to the one in the corner, he unlocked it and let us into a practice suite and recording studio.
“You’re going to record something.” I didn’t even have to manufacture the excitement.
Ian’s eyes gleamed, and his smile grew.
“Actually, Angel,” he told me. “You are.”
“What?”
“Trust me?”
Oh, I wanted to say yes but… “Ian, I can’t sing.”
“Trust me? Please? Just for the next hour. I promise, I won’t let you down.” He studied me with those intense blue eyes.
I bit my lip.
Did I trust him? Even this little bit?
“Promise me this isn’t going to be like the karaoke incident?”
He grinned. “I swear, Angel. You won’t be embarrassed. If I have my way, you’re going to be thrilled.”
