Abandoned Girl (Neighpalm Industries Collective, #1)

by Winston, Lexie

  "Yes, she really does," Jacinta manages to grind out between gritted teeth, her smile looking more like a shark’s every second.

  Nana hands me back my phone and finishes with the coffee pot. “Do you take sugar and cream, Harlow?” she asks, passing me the cup and saucer.

  “No, thanks,” I tell her, putting my phone in my backpack and taking the offered cup. I’ll send that photo to Max when I go to my room. A wicked grin threatens to break out when I think again about what her reaction will be, but I force it back, not wanting Jacinta to think I’m laughing at her instead.

  “So, show us what you bought at LA Riding Wear.” She looks excited to see my purchases, so I indulge her. “I can't believe Alex had to call me. I had already rung them and told them you were coming.” She pats my knee, a bit of the haughtiness she’d directed at the poor clerk coming briefly back to her face. “I wouldn't have left you hanging like that,” she reassures me.

  “You ride?” Jacinta’s voice is like a whip cracking as she fires the question at me, and Nana just looks at her quizzically. We’d already talked about my horse-riding accident, but she obviously hadn’t cared to listen.

  “Ah, yeah, I do. I haven’t owned a horse for a few years though. College took up too much time, but whenever I was home on the weekend, I rode one of the Bostons’. Actually, that’s why I needed the clothes. Well, apart from Brad asking me to go riding with him.” Jacinta gasps at this information, and her eyes look shiny for a second. Crap, maybe I should have kept that to myself; I’m guessing I definitely just messed up somehow. Knowing it’s too late now, I barge ahead. “Chuck’s got some horses coming out west for a movie, but the director is behind schedule, so he asked Brad if they could stay here until he needs them. He’s asked me to put them through their paces because Max is going to be filming another movie while they wait.”

  “Who’s Max?" a gruff voice asks from behind, and I spin to see Declan standing in the exit from the hall. Oh, my poor ovaries, I think they just sighed in awe. The man’s dressed in a gray suit with a green tie and black shirt underneath, and he looks amazing. His black hair is tied back, but a few tendrils have pulled free to frame his face. His tie makes the green of his eyes pop, and that stare is locked onto me.

  “Oh, that’s Maxine,” Nana tells them while I’m still tongue-tied by this exquisite specimen of a man. That has me thinking about his bare chest this morning and his Princess tattoo, which makes me smile. Shaking my head, I tune back into what she’s saying. “I sometimes wonder if any of you listen to a word I say. Remember, she used to come out here during the summer holidays when she was younger?”

  “Yeah, I remember,” Jacinta mutters, the bitterness strong enough that this time I can’t hold back my wince; her lip has even curled back in a snarl. “That is, until she stopped coming. Couldn’t leave her precious Harlow home alone.”

  “I didn't find that out until recently. She told me something different all those years.” I try and defend myself to Jacinta, but she’s not interested. Most of those times were when I had visits with my mom, and when she wasn't around, I was stuck with Nana and Grandad Boston. She could see how much I hated it when they left, so she stopped going.

  “We always use their horses in our movies,” Nana reminds Declan, and he nods in acknowledgment.

  “Yeah, but I usually deal with Chuck. I hadn’t remembered Maxine’s name until you mentioned it.” He walks over to the sofa with Jacinta, loosening his tie on the way, before removing his jacket and undoing the buttons on his sleeves. Rolling them up, he exposes his forearms, insert ovary sigh again, as he makes himself comfortable, putting an arm on the back of the chair and crossing one leg over the other.

  “Would you like coffee?” Nana asks him, pouring some into one of the dainty little cups before he can answer and sliding it over to him. He reaches down, his forearm rippling, and my eyes locked onto it, unable to look away. There’s just something about a man in a dress shirt with rolled-up sleeves.

  “Harlow,” Nana calls, her sharp voice startling me and leaving him smirking as I turn to look at her.

  “Ah, yes, sorry, what?”

  She studies me carefully before a small smile crosses her face. “Well, show me your purchases.”

  “Oh, ah, ok.” I grab the bags and start pulling out the riding pants. She oohs and ahhs over them with far more enthusiasm than I’d expect her to have, but I guess she dotes like this on all of her grandchildren. “I got dark colors because they show the dirt less,” I tell her, and Jacinta snorts, though I’m not sure what I’ve said to earn her disdain this time. “I only really wear white for competition since they're so not practical. Especially when you wear them day in and day out.”

  “And what else did you get?” Nana is like a kid in the candy store, and Declan is smiling at her with love in his eyes. Damn it, the man loves his Nana as much as he loves his cat. Pity he’s a douchebag. Not letting him and those delicious forearms get the better of me again, I show her the boots and the gaiters, and she gushes over them too.

  "Why did you get both pairs?" Jacinta asks, the accusation in her voice telling me that I’m already losing no matter what reason I give her.

  Turning, I face her. "You ride, don't you?"

  She nods her head, and Nana interrupts, "She does, but her horse is pregnant at the moment, so she's not riding very often."

  "Oh, was that the sweet, pregnant, palomino quarter horse I saw in the barn this morning?" I ask, and she nods her head stiffly. "So, you ride Western then?" It's safe to assume that because that's what quarter horses are generally for. We have a few for Western movies.

  "I prefer Western, but I do ride English, too." Her voice is stiff as if she’s reluctant to engage

  "Ok, well, I mainly ride English for pleasure; I use the long boots for that, but when I work with the stunt horses, I like the movement and freedom in my ankle I get wearing the short boots and the gaiters." She actually looks impressed and interested in my words, but she must remember who she’s talking to because her eyes freeze over again. "So, I bought both." The room falls silent as both siblings share a glance, their eyes unreadable for the moment.

  "When will Chuck’s horses arrive?" Nana prompts, breaking the awkward silence. "And who’s he sending?"

  “He said in a couple of days. He's sending Delilah , a pretty gray Lipizzan mare who’s perfect for a female character. Hercules and Zeus are big Holsteiner warmbloods, so they make great warhorses, and the fourth is my favorite. Samson is a big black Friesian stallion. He's so very handsome and such a great animal," I ramble. "The film is a medieval story with knights and jousting and such, and they're going to look amazing."

  "Samson? Isn't that the one you fell off when you hurt your knee?" Nana asks, sounding concerned.

  “Ah, yeah, but it was an operator error, I’m afraid. It was all my fault, and it could have been a lot worse. Actually, I need to ask Chuck to send all my protective gear with the animals. Don’t want to take the chance that I get hurt any worse."

  I stand up, gathering my things together and groaning at the pull of pain in my knee from being on my feet most of the day. Nana looks at me with worry in her eyes, but I just wave her off. “I’m okay, just stiffened up now that I’ve finally stopped moving,” I reassure her. "I’m just going to take these back to my room and message Chuck. Can I help with dinner when I'm done?"

  Nana waves her hand as though I’ve asked a completely silly question. Which, considering the amount of money these people have, I guess I did. "Oh no, that's fine. The chef’s done most of it already, and Brad and the boys like to do the grilling. Why don’t you come back in an hour or so, and we'll have a drink before dinner," she suggests. "Declan, help Harlow take her things to her bedroom."

  "Oh no, that’s okay! I've got it," I protest, but he's already jumped out of his seat and is picking up my bags with the boots.

  "Of course I will, Nana." His smile is sly, but Nana doesn't see it as she’s already turned back to talk
with Jacinta. He quietly follows close behind me, and I can feel his gaze boring into the back of my neck. Pushing open the door to my room, I find Princess on my bed again and cringe, knowing whatever happens next won’t be fun for me.

  A quiet growl escapes Declan’s mouth, and I put my bag down, holding my hands up in defense. "Dude, I haven't been here all day, and I know I shut my room when I left this morning because I went out the side door. You're barking up the wrong tree." He places my bags down and strides toward me; his fury-filled face has me backing up until he's got me pinned against the wall, a hand on either side of my head, his body pressed into mine.

  "Just because you've managed to fool a sweet old lady doesn’t mean we don't see right through you. Were you happy spending all that money on our account? You’re just like your mother. Don't think we haven't looked into you, Harlow Stubbs, made some inquiries into your life. We're watching you.” My heart thunders in fear at his words, somehow finding this violation of my privacy worse than him invading my personal space. He runs his nose along my jawline, inhaling as he goes before he pulls his head back and meets my eyes. Unlike Jacinta’s ice, his contain a blaze that just might burn me alive...the worst thing is, I’m not sure that I’d stop him.

  "We're watching you, waiting for you to fuck up this little act, and then you'll be gone. Just like all the rest that tried to weasel their way into this family. Just like all the rest who saw us as a meal ticket and nothing else." He’s breathing heavily now, and his eyes are full of anger and hurt. "We all learned the hard way that family is all you can trust, and you will never qualify as that."

  Tears well in my eyes, and I push him away, a stabbing pain inside my chest proving that words can hurt. Not looking at him, I move to the bed. "Please, just take your cat and leave," I ask him quietly. There’s no point in getting upset; he's not going to change his mind.

  Without another word, he tries to gather Princess, but she hisses and swipes a paw at him. "Fuck!" He pulls back, and I mentally high five the cat, loving that at least someone in the room was able to express the feelings overwhelming me right now. He tries again and gets the same reaction, so with another look of hatred aimed in my direction, he spins on his heel and storms out of the bedroom, leaving me to my loneliness and hurt.

  Chapter Twenty

  Harlow

  When I finally wake from my pity party for one, a fit of searing anger flows through me. Fuck him. I’ve done nothing; I’m not the people from his past, and to judge me by their actions or my mom’s actions is crap. Wiping the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hands, I pull my laptop bag out of the dresser drawer where it's been staying and settle myself on the bed next to Princess, the soft rhythm of her purr helping to settle something inside me. I'm not going to let them make me uncomfortable or allow them to put me off achieving my dream. I’ll contact some of the zoos here in California, and if I get a job at one of them, I can reassess my living arrangements. Alex said he and Shane have a spare room in their condo that I'm welcome to, plus I have a little bit of savings for a deposit on an apartment. If I get an internship in San Diego or San Francisco, I'm going to be okay.

  I read through the job descriptions and submit my application and resume via email, a jolt of exhilaration hitting me when I realize what a big step I’ve just taken. There are three or four that I apply for, and to be honest, I'm not all that hopeful for a couple of them since they want experience, but there's one advertised at the San Diego Zoo that looks promising.

  It’s a rotating internship that allows you to shadow a different vet from a different specialty every six months. The pay is crap, and I would possibly need to get a night-time job to support myself while doing it, but I’m sure it would be worth it in the end. Maybe I can find a twenty-four-hour horse practice that needs a night vet or an on-call vet for the weekends. That should help to supplement my income. I send out a few more resumes to the local equine vets and cross my fingers that I hear back from one of them soon.

  After that, I pack away my purchases into the walk-in closet and splash some water on my face. It's been probably close to an hour now, and the pressure of heading out to dinner is looming larger and larger behind me. “What do you think, Princess?" I ask the dozing cat, and she, of course, doesn't respond, but I know in my head she's telling me to get on with it.

  So I brush my hair, tying it back in a ponytail, and wander back to the main area for dinner. When I get there, the big windows are sliding doors, and they’re all open, letting in the evening air. The smell of horses and hay drifts through the breeze in a comforting aroma that makes me feel more at home than any other experience I’ve had in this house so far. Making my way onto the deck, I’ve just stepped out of the doorway when I hear, "Pull!" There’s a clicking sound and a loud bang bang that scares the shit out of me. I jump nearly a foot into the air, and when I turn to see where the noise had come from, I can see Jacinta with Thomas, Holden, and Kai, the three brothers I haven't had much to do with. They're all holding shotguns over their shoulders and have safety glasses on and protection over their ears. They're all also snickering at my reaction.

  "You bloody twits." Poppy’s annoyed voice drags my eyes to the grill where he’s standing behind it, an apron tied around his waist. "You could have warned me; I just about dropped a sausage I was turning on to the ground!"

  Brad’s standing next to him, but his eyes light up when he sees me, and he makes his way over to me. "Harlow, come and have a seat, what would you like to drink?" he asks, leading me over to a large round table. Nana, Declan, and Jaxon are already seated at the table. “Would you like a glass of wine or a beer? Nana is having a Cosmo if you prefer that."

  "Make her one of these, Bradley," Nana commands. "She needs to relax a little. Poor girl is so wound up; it doesn't help that those idiots frightened her." She waves her glass at the clay pigeon shooters, a balance of irritation and amusement in her eyes. Turning, I watch reddish-haired Thomas line up his rifle, his eye down the barrel of the gun.

  "Pull!" he calls, and Jacinta does something to the machine, causing two clay discs to come flying out. He tracks their flight through the air before bang, bang! They both explode into dust, and Holden and Kai clap him on the shoulders while Jacinta keeps score on a chalkboard behind them.

  “Have you ever shot clay pigeons before?" Nana asks. "Thomas is a fiend at it; he loves to go hunting during duck season. He says it's good practice."

  I shake my head in response. "No, I haven't, but it looks fun." Oliver joins us at the table, and he and Jaxon exchange a glance. Oliver’s eyes are calculating behind his black-rimmed glasses, but there’s markedly less hostility than I’m used to seeing in Jaxon, Jacinta, and Declan’s eyes.

  "Would you like to have a go?" he asks, and Jaxon and Declan snigger like teenage boys. I have a feeling there’s a trick somewhere in here, but I'm game.

  "Yeah, actually, if you wouldn't mind," I tell him, and Jaxon leans back into his chair.

  "Have you ever fired a gun before?"

  "Yes, I have," I answer, feeling awkward, not wanting to share the story of how I came to know how to use a weapon.

  "Oh, when?" he prompts when he sees me squirm, and I look to Nana for reassurance.

  "It's okay, Harlow. You don't have to talk about it." Nana’s face is wreathed in sadness, and that makes the boys latch onto the subject even harder. I guess their love for Nana and consideration for her feelings doesn’t surpass their hunger for any opportunity to make me feel uncomfortable, or they’re oblivious to her feelings. No matter which, it’s not going in my favor.

  "Oh no, we'd love to know," Jaxon pushes, his eyes as cold as his sister’s. My stomach sinks, and common sense pokes its ugly head out to ask me how I could have ever found him attractive.

  “When I was about fourteen and still visiting my mother once every two weeks for the weekend..." I start, not wanting to tell them the rest, but I know they won't let it go. Their eyes have already perked up, brightening as though the
y’re sharks who’ve found the first drop of blood in the water. What makes it worse is Bradley returns with my drink, placing it in front of me and taking the seat next to me.

  "What are we talking about?" he asks, and Jaxon can’t help himself.

  "Oh, Harlow was just telling us how she learned to shoot." That’s it. The asshole, I hope he feels terrible once he hears this story. Declan just sits there in brooding silence, his eyes on me as he waits for the tale.

  "As I was saying, Mom had me every second weekend for two nights. I would go and stay at her trailer with her, and I was about fourteen when one of her nicer..." I stop and look at my dad, wincing. "Sorry about this... One of her nicer clients took an interest in me." Dad’s face turns white, and Declan sits up straight in his chair. I make sure to lock eyes with Jaxon. "Not in a creepy way, but he knew he wasn't the only one using mom’s service, so to speak, and that she wasn't stopping just because I was there. He showed up one afternoon, and while she was busy, he took me out the back of the trailer and lined up some cans. He pulled a gun out of the back of his pants and proceeded to teach me how to use it. He also gave me a couple of clips and a box to keep it all in and told me to keep it next to me while I slept at night." By now, all of them are looking somewhat ill, and I'm shaking. Nana pats me gently on the hand, and from the way she’s much more collected than Brad, I think Chuck and Melinda must have told her this story.

  "Anyway, I learned how to use it, but it wasn’t long after that, Mom’s clients started noticing me more than her, and after a couple of close calls, she decided she didn't want me around anymore. I took the gun back to the Bostons’, and when Chuck found out about it, he made sure I knew how to use it properly, clean it, and all the rest. I still have it in a safe back home, but I've got a feeling it's probably not legal, and there’s a good chance it may be linked to a crime. The guy who looked after me was the leader of the local MC gang, so anything is possible.”