Midnight Surrender: A Paranormal Romance Anthology

by Abel, Charlotte

  “That’s no excuse and you know it.”

  “If that doesn’t work, I’ll do the concerned brother routine… Please, just talk to him. He may be suicidal.”

  “You’re pathetic, but you aren’t suicidal.”

  “I can’t live without Naomi.”

  “That would be easier to believe if you hadn’t boinked her best friend.”

  “I didn’t boink Harleigh. I just made out with her. And like I told you … I was drunk.”

  “And like I told you … that’s no excuse.” Franklin turned back to his book. “Besides, Naomi’s going out with Rich Blanchard now.”

  Rich was a senior and the state heavy-weight wrestling champion. He had the strength, thick skull and temperament of a silver-back gorilla, but only half the intelligence. There was no way Naomi actually liked him. “She’s just trying to make me jealous.”

  “Probably. She doesn’t care who she hurts as long as she gets her way. Find someone else — half the girls at school are already in love with you.”

  True, but Jonathan didn’t want anyone else. He didn’t want to start over either. It had taken him two months to get his hands under Naomi’s shirt and another three weeks before she let him unhook her bra. If he hadn’t messed up with Harleigh, he was sure that he and Naomi would have had sex by now.

  He hopped onto Franklin’s bed and bounced on his toes. He couldn’t think unless he was in motion and he definitely needed to think of a new plan …

  Jonathan dropped to his knees, then bounced back to his feet. “I could talk to Heather while I’m impersonating you. Ask her to homecoming or something.”

  It was ridiculous the way Franklin turned bright red and stuttered every time he tried to talk to the girl. There was nothing special about Heather Compton. She wasn’t ugly or anything, but she wasn’t exactly hot either — not like Naomi.

  Franklin slammed his book shut. “You can’t hit on Naomi and Heather at the same party.”

  He had a point. Jonathan stopped bouncing. “Unless … you go to the party and pretend to be me. Lay low until I ask Heather out for you and convince Naomi to talk to me. Once I’m done, we’ll sneak inside the mine and change clothes. You can hang out with Heather while I make up with Naomi in the back of the Rover.”

  The corners of Franklin’s mouth did that subtle little twitchy thing that meant he was going to start stuttering. No one besides Jonathan ever noticed the twitch. They’d both stuttered as little kids. Jonathan out grew it, Franklin didn’t. Stress made it worse, especially around girls. “The f-first t-time I open m-m-my m-mouth, everyone is g-going to know I’m n-not you.”

  “You don’t have to talk. Just grab a beer, park your butt against a tree and act broken hearted. I guarantee at least one hot chick is going to try to console you by cramming her tongue down your throat. Just don’t let Naomi see you. I’m already in enough trouble.”

  Frankie wrinkled his nose and frowned. “I’m not going to start drinking just so I can make out with some random fan-girl of yours. And get off my bed.”

  Jonathan grinned and started bouncing again. Heather was the perfect bait. All Jonathan had to do was set the hook and reel him in. “Just smile and nod your head while they jabber at you. It’ll be good practice for when you go out with Heather.”

  “Do you really think H-Heather w-would go out w-with me?”

  “Why wouldn’t she? You’re almost as good-looking as I am.”

  Franklin rolled his eyes but his grin was so wide it looked like it hurt. “We’re identical, you moron.”

  There was a small parking lot at the trailhead that meandered past the old McKnight mine, but it was already full. Jonathan didn’t want to park on the side of the road so he pulled in behind Rich Blanchard’s souped up Dodge Ram and cut the engine.

  “You can’t park here. You’re blocking three cars.”

  Jonathan set the emergency brake. “I can park wherever the hell I want.”

  “You know who owns that truck, right?”

  “Quit whining. Rich isn’t going to want to leave before we do. In fact, he’ll probably get so drunk he won’t be able to find his truck before daylight.”

  “No one’s going to believe you’re me if you keep saying ‘hell.’ I don’t swear.”

  “Okay, Mom … it’s no big f—”

  “Hey!”

  “—freakin’ deal.”

  Jonathan laughed and hopped out of the Land Rover, slamming the door behind him. “Keep your chin up and head straight for the keg—”

  “I already told you, I’m not going to drink.”

  “Then grab a beer out of one of the coolers—”

  “I said I’m not—”

  “Calm down. I didn’t say you had to drink it. Just hold it and pretend to take a sip occasionally. Can you do that?” Jonathan’s patience was wearing thin.

  “Okay, but remember the only kind of beer you can drink is root beer.”

  Jonathan was definitely going to need a couple of real beers if he was going to get through the next hour without popping Franklin in the mouth.

  About twenty people milled around the bonfire in front of the mine. Another half-dozen or so jostled each other to get to the keg. Music blared from someone's portable audio system. It was amazing what you could do with a car battery, an amp and a couple of speakers. The thump, thump of the heavy bass reverberating in Jonathan’s gut lifted his mood. He had to remind himself not to move to the beat as they walked up the trail. Franklin could dance as good as anyone, but he never did it in public.

  That needed to change. Jonathan punched Franklin’s shoulder. “Loosen up, bro. Try to relax. You’re supposed to be excited to be here.”

  Franklin huffed and rolled his eyes.

  They were about halfway between the parking lot and the bonfire when Naomi and her current top three friends spilled out of her Prius. Great. How was he supposed to talk to her with those three hanging around? They openly dissed him in front of Naomi, then came on to him behind her back.

  Jonathan turned to Franklin, hoping he could enlist his help to distract Naomi’s friends for a few minutes, but he should have known better.

  Franklin was already twitching. Jonathan lowered his voice and spoke out of the side of his mouth. “Go grab a beer and pretend to drink it … now.” He stepped in front of Naomi then dropped his gaze to his feet. Franklin would never have the courage for direct eye contact with any girl, much less a hottie like Naomi. “H-h-hello, N-Naomi. H-how are y-y-you?”

  She stopped and did a little double-take. “Franklin?”

  Jonathan chanced a quick glance at Naomi’s face. She curled her upper lip back so far it practically touched her nose. What the hell was her problem?

  “C-can I t-talk t-to you for a m-minute?”

  She made that half-grunt-half-coughing noise in the back of her throat that she usually reserved for thespians and members of the chess club. “What are you doing here?”

  “Jonathan’s been so depressed since you b-broke up with him. If you w-would j-just t-talk to him—”

  Naomi interrupted him with a cruel laugh. It was nothing like the musical giggle that always warmed Jonathan’s heart. She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her hand and sneered at him. “How the hell did that cheating, scumbag brother of yours ever talk you into this? Did he threaten to st-st-steal your t-t-teddy b-b-bear?”

  Jonathan’s world shattered. No one made fun of Franklin’s stutter. No one. Not even hot ex-girlfriends. Did she treat Franklin like this whenever Jonathan wasn’t around? He glanced over his shoulder. Franklin was leaning against a tree with a goofy grin on his face, staring into the fire. If he’d heard Naomi’s mockery, it would have devastated him.

  She needed to be taken down a notch or two. And Jonathan knew just how to do it. “Jonathan told me I could have one of his rejects tonight. I was hoping Harleigh would show up, but since she didn’t, I guess you’ll do.” He sighed and grabbed her hand. “Come on. I have a sleeping
bag in the back of the Rover.”

  Naomi jumped back and hissed like an angry cat. Her friends giggled and snorted behind their hands. She was still spluttering incoherently when Jonathan turned his back on her and walked away. It was time to sneak into the mine, snag a couple of beers, and light up the blunt hidden in his pocket.

  When Jonathan came out of the mine, he found Franklin in the middle of a crowd of drunks, chugging beer out of a clear plastic cup. Jonathan should have been happy Frankie was loosening up, but it pissed him off. Franklin was the good twin. He was on track to serve a mission, go to BYU, meet a nice girl, marry her in the temple and start popping out kids as fast as they could make ‘em.

  Franklin crushed his empty cup then belched half the alphabet. The idiots around him howled with laughter, but Jonathan didn’t think it was funny. In fact, it killed his buzz. Was he that disgusting of an animal at parties? It was something to think about, but right now, he needed to save Franklin’s sorry ass before he did something really stupid.

  By the time Jonathan worked his way through the crowd, Franklin had another cup of beer in his hand.

  “I think you’ve had enough to drink.” Jonathan tried to pry Franklin’s fingers off the cup without spilling it all over both of them.

  “Oh, I don’t think so Frankie, I haven’t had nearly enough. In fact, I think it’s high time you joined me.” Franklin laughed and punched Jonathan’s shoulder. “High time… get it?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Jonathan grabbed Franklin’s arm and whispered, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Hey! Tyler.” Franklin leaned back and lifted his hand in the air, index finger extended, as if he were trying to signal a waiter. “Get a brewski for my alter-ego here, would ya?”

  Jonathan didn’t know what had changed Franklin’s mind about drinking, but he wasn’t about to ruin his immaculate reputation by joining him. Besides, Franklin was already plastered, so Jonathan would have to drive them home. “Are you too drunk to remember my vow to never so much as taste alcohol?”

  Franklin swayed on his feet. “You need to lighten up. Live a little before you die.”

  Jonathan grabbed Franklin’s shoulders to keep him from stumbling into the fire. “How many beers have you had since we got here?”

  “Hmm … I’m not shlure.” Frankie turned to Tyler and cocked his head to the side. “How many beers have I drunk…? Drank…? Drink-ded…?”

  Tyler held up three fingers and shrugged.

  Jonathan rolled his eyes. He would not be this plastered after just three beers.

  Franklin belched in Jonathan’s face then giggled like a girl.

  Jonathan wanted to bitch-slap him until he followed Franklin’s gaze to the crushed cans of non-alcoholic beer hidden in the side pocket of his suede jacket. Wow. This was just an act? Jonathan leaned in and whispered, “You’re not really drunk?”

  “Of course not.”

  The man deserved an Oscar for his role as Drunk and Obnoxious Jonathan McKnight.

  “If you spill even one drop of that nasty fake beer on my coat, I’ll kill you.”

  Tyler coughed into his fist and said, “Heather’s here.”

  The sound of bell-like laughter floated up from the trail.

  Franklin froze then started backing away before the girls were even in view. “I’m gonna puke.”

  He bolted into the bushes like a frightened deer.

  Heather squinted her eyes and leaned forward. “Was that Franklin McKnight? Is he drunk?”

  Time to intervene. “H-h-hey H-Heather, I’d like t-to talk to you as s-soon as I m-make sure J-Jonathan’s okay. He’s had a little too m-m-much to drink.”

  Jonathan held his breath to make his face turn red and hoped that would convince Heather that she had the boys mixed up.

  “Of course, do you need any help?”

  Tyler smacked Jonathan on the back. “I’ve got it covered. You go talk to Heather while I make sure your drunken brother doesn’t fall down a mine shaft or something.”

  “Um … okay.” Jonathan swallowed loudly and rubbed his palms on his jeans as if they were sweaty. Franklin wasn’t the only one that could act. “D-do you w-wanna g-g-go somewhere t-to talk?”

  Heather lowered her gaze and peeked at him from under thick lashes. She was actually sort of cute. Jonathan grabbed her hand and led her back down the trail, away from the fire and the crowd. He didn’t want an audience in case this blew up in his face, so he waited until they were out of everyone’s line of sight to turn his full attention to Heather.

  She stared at their linked hands and grinned. “So … what’s on your mind, Franklin?”

  “I… uh… yeah, well… I was w-wondering if you w-would go to H-h-homecoming with me?” Jonathan’s voice cracked when he said ‘me’ but Heather didn’t seem to notice — or maybe she just didn’t care. The way her eyes lit up when she smiled changed her whole face. Why hadn’t he noticed her before? Maybe because she’d never smiled at him. She was more than just cute. She was adorable. And perfect for Franklin.

  She stepped forward and put one trembling hand on Jonathan’s chest. “I would love to go with you.”

  Jonathan smiled, flashing his dimples.

  Heather rose up on her toes, slipped her hand behind his neck and tugged.

  For the first time in his life, Jonathan didn’t know what to do when a girl wanted to kiss him. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but if Franklin found out, he’d never forgive him.

  Heather made the decision for both of them. Jonathan kept his mouth closed and his eyes open. The snap of a twig alerted him that someone was close.

  He pulled away just as Franklin stepped around the bend. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. The look of betrayal in his eyes said it all. He shook his head then stepped off the path, giving Jonathan and Heather a wide berth.

  Jonathan grabbed Franklin’s shoulder as he passed. “Wait. I can explain.”

  Frankie jerked out of Jonathan’s grasp then ran down the trail.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” There was nothing down there but the parking lot. Franklin wouldn't leave without him. Would he? Of course he would. Jonathan didn’t like leaving Heather alone on the trail, but he needed to straighten things out with Franklin.

  She should be fine as long as she went back to the group around the fire.

  “Heather, sweetheart, I need you to go back to the party and find your friends. Stay together and stay away from Rich and his group. I need to see what’s up with that crazy brother of mine, but I’ll be right back.”

  He’d forgotten to stutter, but Heather just nodded her head and started walking back up the trail.

  Jonathan was about halfway to the parking lot when the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Two guys were pulling a very drunk girl off the trail into the bushes. Not cool. He had no idea who the guys were, but either they’d heard about the party and decided to crash it or they just stumbled on to it and decided to take advantage of the opportunity — and the intoxicated girl they were half-carrying-half-dragging between them.

  Jonathan didn’t know her name, but he’d seen her at school. She was only a freshman. What sort of perv takes advantage of a drunk kid?

  “Where do you guys think you’re going with the jailbait?”

  “None of your business, punk.”

  Since there were two of them and only one of him, Jonathan struck without warning or mercy. A gut-busting sidekick dropped the big guy on his right to his knees. Before he hit the ground, Jonathan threw a right cross to the jaw of his scrawny companion. It snapped the creep’s head back a good six inches. But it only made him mad. Never judge a book by its cover — or a potential rapist by his size.

  The guy danced around with his elbows tucked in and his fists in front of his face like a boxer. He obviously knew how to fight. Jonathan didn’t mess around. He knocked the guy out cold with a round-house kick to the side of his head.

  The perv was lucky
Jonathan and Franklin had switched identities. If he’d been wearing his hiking boots instead of Franklin’s running shoes, the blow might have killed him.

  The girl he’d just rescued was too drunk to walk. Jonathan wanted to get to Franklin, but he couldn’t just leave her lying by the side of the trail. He picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder and carried her back to the bonfire. She thanked him by puking down the back of Franklin’s parka.

  When he got back to the party, Jonathan lowered the girl to the ground, yanked his arms out of Franklin’s ruined parka and turned it inside out. He used it to position the girls head so she wouldn’t drown in her own puke if she threw up again. He grabbed the first halfway sober girl he saw and enlisted her help.

  “Hey, Carrie, do you know this chick?”

  “She’s just a freshman. What’s she doing here?”

  “Getting herself raped.”

  Carrie’s eyes widened and her mouth formed a little “O” before she frowned.

  “A couple of guys were hauling her into the bushes. I roughed ‘em up pretty good, so I don’t think they’re going to be a problem, but can you keep an eye on her? Make sure she doesn’t wander off. I gotta go find my brother.”

  Jonathan suddenly felt light-headed as the last of the adrenaline from the fight left his body. He sagged onto the log next to Carrie and grinned when his car keys poked him in the butt. Franklin wasn’t going anywhere without him.

  “Sure. But, you might want to find Jonathan before Richard finds you.”

  Jonathan had almost forgotten about the whole switched identity thing. “Why?”

  Carrie made a sour-lemon face then cocked an eyebrow. “Did you or did you not ask Naomi Huffman to have sex with you in the back of the Rover?”

  “Oh.” A sudden headache tightened Jonathan’s scalp. He’d forgotten about that too. What a mess.

  “I didn’t ask Naomi to have sex. I only implied it.”

  Carrie snickered and nudged his shoulder. “You’re actually pretty funny when you loosen up a little. Anyway… Naomi told everyone that Jonathan put you up to it—told you she was easy or something. She cried on Richard’s shoulder until he got so wound up he wants to kill both of you.”