A Perfect Mess

by Zoe Dawson

  The fire that had burned low leapt inside me. I came up behind him and wedged the toe of my sneaker in front of the bastard’s ankle. As Aubree twisted away from the man’s touch, I jerked back, and he went sprawling face-down into the gutter. His breath gusted out of him in a painful grunt.

  “Oh, hey, I’m sorry, Danny boy,” I said without a drop of sincerity. “I guess I wasn’t lookin’ where I was goin’.”

  Langston shoved himself up onto his hands and knees, coughing and spitting dirt in between curses. He shot a nasty look at me over his shoulder, his face almost purple beneath the layer of gritty dirt.

  “Langston, watch your tongue. There are young’uns around here. What would your daddy, the pillar of the community, say to that?”

  “I should have known you’d be sniffing after her, Outlaw. Like a cur in heat,” Langston snarled. He hauled himself to his feet, trying in vain to dust his clothes off. His eyes locked on to me in a stare as hard and cold as the hounds of hell. “You trying to polish up that white trash reputation?”

  “No, my reputation has to do with an almost two-hundred-year old relative. What’s your excuse?”

  “I don’t have to take that from you, Outlaw,” Langston said, his voice low and thrumming with anger. He took a step toward me.

  “Go ahead, Langston. Take a swing. Please.” I said, just as low, but my voice was calm as the gulf before a hurricane. My brothers hated it when I talked like that. They knew it meant I was about to blow.

  “Mr. Big-Shot-Best-Selling-Author. You’re nothing but a no-account, conceited piece of trash. All the money in the world can’t change that.”

  “Naw,” I said, one leg cocked, my right hand propped on my waist. I heaved an exaggerated sigh. “You’re a fine example of that.”

  He swung and, in a snap, I blocked and had Langston by the shirtfront, slamming him up against the side of the building. I let my mask of humor drop and set the fury free to burn. “A man is what you ain’t, Langston.” I ground the words out between my teeth, my face inches from his. “You, you’re a piece-of-shit coward. Me, I’m a con man. I’ll give you that. I tell lies for a livin’. But don’t be thinkin’ I’m the guy who only uses my words as weapons. I’m also the guy who’s gonna kick your balls up to your throat and knock your teeth down to meet ‘em if you ever lay a hand on Aubree Walker again.” I let the fury show for a moment longer, then flashed him a patented ungodly smile, courtesy of one of the unholy Outlaw trinity. “Have I made myself perfectly clear, Langston?”

  Slowly I loosened my hold on Langston’s shirtfront. Forcing myself to smile affably, I made a deliberately botched attempt to smooth out the fabric and brush off some of the dirt, then stepped back and dropped my hands to the waist of my jeans.

  “Maybe you better go on home and change.”

  I spied the ice cream truck coming down the street, heard its cheery music. I took a step back and flagged it down.

  Dismissing Langston entirely, I dug some bills out of my pocket and paid for two Fudgsicles. I could feel Langston’s eyes boring into my back, but I didn’t give a damn. There was nothing that coward could do to me. I already had a bad reputation in this town.

  I shot an inquiring look at Aubree.

  “You want a cold treat, sugar?”

  “You’re messing with the wrong man, Outlaw,” Langston said, his voice shaking with rage and humiliation. “You don’t want to tangle with me.”

  I flicked a glance at him. I was completely bored with the whole scene. “Right. I got better things to do with my time.”

  Langston shook his head, a strange look of utter confusion on his face. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with,” he muttered, then turned on his heel and stalked off.

  Aubree watched him walk away, then turned toward me. Her face got paler. She was visibly shaking, and it looked like…yup, her knees gave out. I caught her and supported her over to an empty bus bench. Her eyes were still closed, and I noticed how long and thick her lashes were, the delicate bones of her face.

  “Hey, sugar. You okay?” My arm tightened around her, the fragrance of her like the sweetest scent, intoxicating. She was tiny, soft, and feminine, and I had to fight to focus, fight to keep my head from dipping down, taking her parted lips, absorbing her gasp like honey on my tongue.

  “It’s like seeing a ghost,” she said softly. “They look so much alike, just like you and your brothers do.”

  “Yeah, they were double trouble, both of ‘em evil twins in every sense of the word.”

  “You rescued me, again,” she said.

  “I’m no hero.”

  “For someone who claims not to be a hero, you seem to spend an awful lot of time coming to my rescue.”

  “Naw, I just hate Langston. You gave me an excuse to get in his face.”

  Told myself I didn’t want her reading anything into my actions. But the truth was that I didn’t want to look at those actions too closely myself. I didn’t want to dig too deep for the reason behind the rush of anger I’d felt when Langston had put his hand on her. I didn’t own her, would never have any claim on her, and therefore had no business feeling jealous or protective.

  It was a simple conditioned response, protecting someone weaker from being harassed by someone stronger. That was all it was.

  I glanced at Aubree as I unwrapped the ice cream, trying to defuse her concentration with a teasing smile. When she opened her mouth, I popped it in.

  She took a bite and shook her head. I unwrapped mine and chuckled to myself.

  The disaster was averted. At least for now.

  Chapter Three

  Aubree

  I narrowed my eyes at him as he tried to weasel out of my question. I wanted a straight answer. “I know the town considers you bad just by association, although I could never figure out how someone’s reputation can be predetermined by one person way back in their family history. It’s the same logic used to shame Germans today into thinking that, because Hitler was a bad guy back in the 30’s and 40’s, and many of his generation looked the other way, they’re still guilty by association. We both know that isn’t true.”

  I wanted him to be either good or bad so I could pigeonhole him. But he was a chameleon, changing in the blink of an eye, the changes throwing me off balance and always leaving me wondering which Booker was the real Booker Outlaw.

  “I think you ought to make up your mind,” I said. “Are you a good guy or a bad guy?”

  He met my gaze, his eyes dark and shining. “That all depends on the situation, sugar,” he murmured, his voice low and rough—Southern smooth, persuading a woman to reach out and touch him, luring her closer.

  My heart pounded, nerve endings he had awakened and tantalized the night before stirring restlessly. I frowned at him. “A jack of all trades, huh? I don’t need to be saved.”

  Booker leaned across the bench, daring me to hold my ground. I didn’t move, though I couldn’t help it that my shoulders tensed and my jaw tightened.

  “You’re not a very good liar, Aubree,” he whispered.

  I shied away from that word. I abhorred lying, and I’d had to lie to Daniel about his brother, also concealing a greater sin while doing it. What did that make me? A hypocrite? I hated that my own morality was out of my control. But there was nothing I could do about that.

  On the other hand, Booker was near enough, and daring enough, to kiss me. The very idea touched off a dangerous, melting warmth in my middle. He confused and confounded me at a time when I needed to stay focused.

  “You better finish that treat fast, Booker,” I said sarcastically, “before your hot air melts it.”

  I only now got it that his arm was around me. I had been too focused on his face and what he was doing with that Fudgsicle to notice. Here we were out in public, too, right outside the post office. Enough people had seen that fight between Booker and Daniel that I was sure the story was moving like wildfire through the town. I was already in the local busybody news with my aunt in th
e hospital. It was high time I checked to see if my car was finished.

  “I’ve got to go, Booker, pick up my car, and visit Aunt Lottie.” I shrugged off his arm and rose, then draped my tote over my shoulder.

  He watched me with that lazy expression. Why did it have to look so damn sexy on him?

  “You couldn’t get a glass company to come out and fix it on your property?” He finished the ice cream and dropped the stick into the trash. I did the same.

  “It was more than the glass. My tires were slashed. I had to have it towed and repaired over at Simmons Garage.”

  He sat up straighter, that lazy look gone from his eyes. “Which would bring you into town.”

  I went still. His eyes met mine, and a chill of foreboding swept over my skin despite the heat of the day.

  “Your tires hadn’t been slashed yet when I left last night, which means it was done later. I don’t like that. Someone came back when you were there alone.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that either, but vandalism was rare in Suttontowne.

  “You need to give the sheriff that information, Aubree. In fact, I’ll walk you over there, and then to the garage.”

  “Will you hold my hand, too, when I cross the street?” I asked, going for a teasing grin.

  His eyes heated, as if he was more than willing to hold anything I’d let him. “You think I’m overreacting?”

  “You’re cute when you overreact.” Oh, shit. Had I said that out loud? “You said it yourself. Kids and pranks,” I murmured, desperately wanting to have the strength to resist this, resist him.

  “Hey, Aubree. You flirtin’ with me?”

  He would have to point out my lapse. Daniel had rattled me more than I thought. “Just making an observation. Like you don’t know you’re gorgeous.” I wanted to smack myself in the head. Really, I needed to stop talking now.

  “Oh, I know gorgeous.” He smiled, his intent gaze didn’t leave mine, and I felt the need to fan myself. Did he think I was gorgeous? Was it getting hotter out here?

  His smile broadened, and I realized I’d had no idea what I’d been missing when I thought back to the boy who’d watched me in silence all those times in our past. Maybe I had known I couldn’t handle him back then. I couldn’t imagine what had made me think I could handle him now.

  My dreams were the only place I could do all the things I wanted to with Booker Outlaw. And that’s the way it was going to stay. Had to stay.

  Oh, crap. Maybe.

  He looked too much like he was reading my expression and my mind. He shrugged. “I don’t know about it being kids and pranks. You’re the mathematician. When stuff starts to add up…”

  “It’s not guaranteed it’s the correct answer,” I said.

  “And yet your aunt is in the hospital, and I know the sheriff thinks she was attacked and hadn’t simply fallen down the stairs.”

  “What are you saying? You think someone targeted my aunt?”

  “Maybe so, maybe not. But it’s best not to ignore this. Just talk to the sheriff.”

  “My aunt is the sweetest woman. Who would want to harass her? And why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  In the back of my mind, in that panicky part that I kept isolated, I wondered if this had anything to do with Damien Langston. But I dismissed it. No one else knew. Only Booker, and he’d promised me he would never tell.

  Why I believed him is another thing I didn’t want to look at too closely.

  “All right. I’ll tell him about it so he is aware, but I think it’s just vandalism.”

  That seemed to make Booker happy. When I turned to go, he came up beside me. “Don’t forget about my number, Aubree.”

  “I won’t. Thank you for stepping in with Daniel. He can be such a jerk.”

  Once again I was caught off-guard by the sheer power of a man. And I didn’t take for granted the fact that Booker was a force to be reckoned with. He’d stood up to Daniel so easily, the muscles in his arms bulging, the power in his back and legs evident. I was simply reacting to my own instincts and some primitive survival of the fittest drive. I’d stick with Booker any day. I’d also seen him in full-out fight mode. He was…magnificent. He didn’t even know I’d seen him that day from my hiding place behind the bleachers. It was something that I tried not to think about. I hadn’t exactly been brave that day, and the guilt of what I had seen and how I had reacted afterwards still haunted me. I wondered fleetingly if I should tell him that secret, but decided it was a bad idea. There wasn’t any reason for him to know.

  He nodded, apparently still reluctant to leave me. It was in his eyes. I smiled at him to relieve the worry I was sure he was hiding. “Take care, Booker.”

  “You, too. Oh, and Aubree? Why can’t I be both?”

  “What both?”

  “A word-master and interesting. Bad and good. The world isn’t all black and white. People don’t have to be one thing or another. They can sometimes be both.”

  I said nothing, just stood there for a long moment, awareness arcing between us like electricity. Booker made his own rules and probably broke them just as easily. He joked about the system, derided the people who tried to make it work. And he stepped in like my personal hero when a bully was pestering me.

  But I was back in control—if not of him, at least of myself. That wasn’t denial. Uh-uh. Nope. Not at all.

  He watched me, his eyes a dark, bottomless blue. I felt as if those eyes were reaching right into my soul. He smiled broadly again, a smile that held all kinds of promise. Promises, I suspected, with a little jump in my belly, that he could keep. Abruptly, I turned towards the Sheriff’s Office.

  Could my aunt have a stalker?

  Or had my past come back to haunt me and hurt her?

  #

  The sheriff had been sympathetic and interested in the news about my tires. He told me he would send a patrol around my place periodically. He also made sure I had his direct dial.

  I walked to Simmons Garage just as the rain started. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait. My car was ready. I paid, thanking Mrs. Simmons, who asked after Aunt Lottie, told me I was too thin, and insisted I take some bourbon brownies with me. After my run-in with Booker and Daniel Langston, I kinda needed both alcohol and chocolate, so I didn’t protest too much. When I came out, Booker’s cool car was gone.

  I refused to feel the disappointment that slid down through me. I had better things to do with my time than spar with him, and I had to believe he had better things to do, too. I hadn’t missed that tidbit of information that Booker was a bestselling author, and it explained how he could afford that gorgeous Mustang. I was really intrigued. I would have to ask him about it if I ever got the chance.

  You’d get the chance if you went to his party.

  Yeah. That would definitely give me an opportunity to talk to him. Part of me wanted to go, especially after our conversation in the diner about work and fun, but the rational part of me held back. Maybe I wasn’t capable of having fun.

  I did have to admit with a smile that he had made me see work in a whole new light.

  I pulled up outside the hospital, which was actually in Lafayette. Our small town had an old doctor who handled most ailments, but for more serious stuff we had to travel. I made sure to turn off my cell phone in observance of the hospital’s rules.

  As soon as I entered, I felt a sense of coming home. I had worked for Doc Rust in town and had fallen in love with medicine. I loved the idea of being able to help people who were ill feel better again, and the clean orderliness of it. I asked about my aunt at the front desk, and the clerk directed me up to the fourth floor. At another desk, I asked about my aunt again and was given her room number.

  It was so quiet as I walked down the hall to her room that I could hear my heart pounding with anxiety. Pushing the door open, I saw her lying still and pale in bed. Her eyes were closed, and there was a machine monitoring her heart, an IV dripping fluid into her veins. My eyes welled with tears, all the
emotions from my childhood rushing at me like a tornado-force wind, whirling my memories around me.

  “Aubree?”

  I started when I saw Booker. “Are you stalking me?” I asked, brushing quickly at the tears on my face.

  “No. I just came to see your aunt.”

  “What exactly is your relationship to her?”

  “She’s my friend.”

  “My aunt?” I said skeptically.

  “Yes, we got to know each other better after you…”

  “After I what?”

  “Never mind.”

  “You were going to say ‘ducked out on her,’ weren’t you?”

  “No. Don’t put words in my mouth. Thanksgiving and Christmas were hard on her.”

  “You know why I didn’t come home. I couldn’t.”

  I didn’t want Booker to think I was a coward, but I hadn’t been able to face it so soon after what happened. I couldn’t force myself to look down Wild Magnolia Road, so visible from the balcony of my bedroom.

  “It was wrong of you, Aubree.”

  I flinched and shame crawled like spiders in my belly. That’s what my mother used to tell me. I couldn’t ever do anything right, ever. No matter how perfectly I behaved. So his words drove me crazy. I couldn’t stand being wrong, making mistakes. I felt slapped in the face, a stinging slap that only caused the guilt that was festering to rush out like a tidal wave. It washed over me and I felt completely drowned. But I knew he was right. I was terrible for not coming home when I could.

  “You don’t get to judge me, Booker. I had my reasons and you know it. I called her on both holidays, but school was intense, and I was so busy. I needed to be busy,” I murmured, my throat tight, my voice breaking.

  I don’t know what he saw when he looked at me, but his face changed, the look of remorse was thick in his eyes. “Damn, Aubree. I’m sorry. I’m reacting to my own internal crap. I just got my buttons pushed, but that’s no reason to dump on you. Yes, I understand why you didn’t come home. But your aunt didn’t. It hurt her.”