Takedown Teague

by Shay Savage

  Tria stood up as well, but when she tried to haul me up with her, I shook my arm free of her grasp. She glared at me as she followed Michael to the door. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why…”

  Michael chuckled, but there was no happiness in the sound.

  “It’s not the first time,” he told her. “This has certainly been an enlightening little encounter though. Full of other firsts.”

  Michael reached up and rubbed his chin.

  “He’s not usually like this,” Tria said quietly.

  “Do you think I can’t hear you?” I asked. I reached forward and grabbed my glass of plain orange juice, wishing it was the one from last night with the vodka additive. I hated mimosas.

  “Well,” Michael said, “I’m glad to hear that since this is all I ever see.”

  “Fuck off,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Liam! What is wrong with you?”

  Michael huffed another laugh through his nose.

  “I’d invite you over for Christmas,” Michael said as he opened the door to the suite and headed out into the hallway, “but I already know your answer.”

  “Bye!” I called with fake enthusiasm. I wriggled my fingers sarcastically.

  Yeah—sarcastic fingers.

  “What is wrong with you?” Tria said as she came back and sat down across from me.

  “Nothing,” I said. I stood and grabbed the last muffin off the tray. I shoved the whole thing into my mouth at once and then answered all her questions with incomprehensible mumbles for the next three minutes while I threw all our shit back into the bag.

  “Liam,” Tria continued as she carefully placed the last of her toiletries in the Dragon’s Duffle, “he came all the way out here just to make sure you were—”

  “You got everything?” I interrupted her to prevent her from making the comment that was surely coming. “We need to get going.”

  With the last of our personal belongings accounted for and a couple of bagels stashed in Tria’s purse for later, I announced that we were leaving. I stood at the door waiting for her, ignoring her protests about how we still needed to talk.

  What the fuck was it with women always wanting to talk about shit that no one else thought was important?

  “What’s this?” Tria said, and the tone of her voice caught my attention.

  I looked over to where she stood by the table where we had eaten breakfast and watched her raise her hand. Gripped in her fist was a handful of cash.

  “Fucker,” I muttered. “How much did he leave?”

  “Three hundred,” Tria said in a hushed whisper as she thumbed through it.

  “Leave it,” I said.

  “What?” Tria’s head snapped back to meet my gaze.

  “I don’t fucking want it.”

  “Liam, we don’t even have enough money for gas on the way home.”

  I closed my eyes and rubbed the back of my neck.

  “Fine,” I growled. “You keep it. Let’s go.”

  I didn’t even bother to stop at the front desk to tell them we were checking out. I figured they would notice soon enough. Tria said nothing else as she stashed Thor’s Tote and lifted her leg to straddle the motorcycle. I climbed on behind her, extremely conscious of how close my ass was to the purse that could potentially suck me inside of it, never to be seen again. I shuddered as I wrapped my arms around Tria’s waist.

  We took off north of the city, and before too long, I felt like we were right in the middle of the fucking jungle. Even as a kid, I had always lived in the city, and the only vegetation around was what you planted yourself. This was completely different.

  I had never seen so many trees in my life, and they were all huge. Even though there was snow on the ground, the trees were still green. As we flew past them, I decided I didn’t like trees—not one bit. Part of it was just because there were too damn many of them, but mostly because I couldn’t see anything around them. Unlike buildings in the middle of a city block, no one could sneak out from behind one except if there were a corner or a door—places easily defended.

  The forest made me feel exposed and vulnerable.

  I tightened my grip around Tria’s waist and leaned the front of my helmet against the back of hers. I didn’t know what she must have thought about the gesture, but she released one of the handlebars and reached behind her head to touch the edge of my jaw just below the rim of the helmet.

  The remainder of the trip to Tria’s hometown was pretty uneventful. We only stopped a couple of times and didn’t talk much when we did. There was definitely still tension between us, and I felt it the most when Tria brought out the cash left by my uncle and used it to fill up the gas tank of the motorcycle.

  I was still pissed at that asshole for showing up there.

  We drew close to the edge of a small town, and I noticed the little sign near the edge of the road pointing the way to the island town of Beals. We crossed a long bridge from Jonesport, which was cleverly named Bridge Street, over the water, and to the island. We cruised around the island, staying near the water at the edge of town. At one point, we passed the local high school and a place called Barney’s Cove Lobster, but Tria didn’t stop until we got farther out.

  She pulled off the road near a small house with a big tree in the back. The place looked like it had been abandoned for a long time. I didn’t see any cars or anything parked outside. There was a shed near the back of the property but no signs of life.

  Tria reached up and pulled off her helmet, so I followed suit. She stared up at the house for a few minutes before she glanced over her shoulder to look at me.

  “This is the house where I lived with my dad,” she told me.

  Now it made sense. With a tug, I pulled her back against me a little, and she didn’t resist. I kept both my feet on the road to balance the bike as she leaned back and continued to stare at the house. There was a good-sized back yard that butted up against the beach. The sound of the waves crashing against the rocky shore was constant and made me want to take a nap.

  “You were, um…really young when he died, right?” I asked when I couldn’t stand any more silence.

  “Six,” she confirmed.

  “He was in the army?”

  “He was a mechanic in the army, yes,” she said. “He was considered a hero here because no one else in the area had ever served overseas before. Everyone looked up to him, not just me. He always said that he never wanted to live in a big city and that anyone with any sense would choose a small town.”

  I snickered.

  “Well, maybe college will teach you some sense,” I said. “Maybe you’ll come back here when you graduate.”

  I definitely didn’t like the idea, but I really didn’t know what else to say. Living in a Podunk town like this would drive me up the wall. I doubted this place even had a decent bar.

  “I don’t know,” she replied with a shrug that sent her hair up my nose. “I think I kind of like living in the city.”

  Thank God.

  “I’d suggest trying to live in another area of the city. Where we are is pretty crappy.”

  “Well, yes,” she agreed. “I don’t think I want to live right where we are forever, but there are some nice places around Hoffman College campus.”

  She looked over her shoulder again and narrowed her eyes.

  “I’m sure you know all about that, though.”

  I sighed dramatically, and Tria went back to watching the house. I could feel the tension again, and I didn’t like it.

  A breeze came by and brought with it the scent of brine and fallen leaves. I blinked, and in my mind I saw the lush green lawns and tall red brick buildings of the college that had been in my mother’s family for three generations. I remembered holding her hand as we walked down the long sidewalk from the dormitories to the student center where I would be able to watch the swim meets and wrestling matches.

  I shook my head slightly, forcing the thoughts away. I leaned forward on the bike and pulled Tria c
loser to me.

  “I was supposed to go to Hoffman College,” I said quietly into Tria’s ear. “I was supposed to study business there so I could become a big shot executive and take over Dad’s companies when he retired. Mom always said I had choices. I could become the president of the college instead, but I knew that was bullshit even as a kid. I’m pretty sure I was supposed to be the CFO of Teague Silver by now.”

  Tria tried to turn her head to look at me, but I held her a little tighter to my chest and kept her still.

  “When I left home, I realized that dream was gone. I didn’t know what I was going to do, and I knew the one place I was guaranteed acceptance into a college program was Hoffman, but there was no way I could set foot in there again.”

  My chest rose and fell with a deep breath.

  “I was driving past the campus when all of that hit me,” I told her. “Everything about my life was going to be completely different, and you know what?”

  “What?” Tria asked softly.

  “I was happy about it.”

  Tria wriggled enough to turn in the seat and reach her hands up to my face. She looked into my eyes as she moved closer and eventually brought her lips to mine.

  “We should get going,” Tria said as we broke apart. “Nikki’s probably wondering where I am by now, and explaining you isn’t going to be easy.”

  “Sure it is,” I said. “I’m the boyfriend, remember?”

  To get to the home of Tria’s friend, we had to drive a little farther down the coast and around one of the jutting peninsulas of the island. Considering what Tria was apparently used to living around, I suddenly realized why the condition of the buildings in our neighborhood hadn’t really fazed her.

  The first few structures we passed were nothing more than shacks made out of plywood and a few nails. There was an old guy sitting out front of one of them, cooking fish on a charcoal grill. There were broken bicycles, part of a car, and a ton of other junk all over the yard around the shack. Weeds growing about waist height surrounded the whole place. It was a stark contrast to the area Tria’s father’s house had been on the other side of the island.

  As we traveled farther down the road, Tria slowed to take a sharp turn. There was a line of RVs stacked up next to each other, overlooking the water. They were actually more run-down than the shabby shelters we had just passed. Farther from the water, there were half a dozen small houses, which weren’t in too bad a shape, though there was a still a decent amount of junk lying around them. Most of them needed a good paint job and new gutters, too.

  We stopped at the last RV site in the row. The structure itself was about the strangest I had ever seen. It was actually two RVs set up right next to each other and apparently fused together. A wooden porch had been attached to the front of it. There were a few pots, which looked like they probably had some flowers in them in the warmer months, on the slanted stairs.

  Tria and I got off the bike, and Tria pushed it a little closer to the porch as the front door flew open, and a tall, lanky woman with short, stringy black hair rushed out.

  “Demmy!” she cried as she jumped over the two steps of the porch and ran over to Tria. They hugged immediately as I stood there awkwardly. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “I’m glad I’m here, too,” Tria said with a pinched smile. “It feels like it has been forever. Please call me Tria, though.”

  “Sorry. I forgot.” Tria’s friend looked over at me. “Who’s this?”

  Tria looked quickly between us before making introductions.

  “Liam, this is Nikki,” she said. “She’s my best friend ever. Nikki, this is Liam. My…um…my boyfriend.”

  Nikki’s eyes widened as she looked up at me and slowly reached out her hand. I returned the gesture and shook her hand quickly.

  “You didn’t mention him on the phone,” Nikki said.

  “Well, Keith was there with you,” Tria said with a shrug. I glared over at her because she hadn’t mentioned him being on the phone at all. “He and Liam don’t exactly get along.”

  I barked out a laugh.

  “So Keith was right.” A deep voice came from the porch. “You have shacked up with some musclehead. I really thought you were better than that, Demmy.”

  I immediately moved toward the guy leaning against the doorframe. He was a good five inches shorter than me, with black hair hanging in his dark eyes. Tria stepped up and blocked my way with her hand on my chest, the same way she had months ago when Keith had come to her apartment.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she said. Her voice was full of warning. “You told me you weren’t going to do this!”

  “I told you I wasn’t going to start anything. He’s starting it.”

  “No!”

  “He insulted you,” I said under my breath. I balled my hands into fists.

  “I will handle Brandon,” Tria said in a lowered voice, “and you will wait for me to get this shit under control, and you will not hit anyone! As a matter of fact, you aren’t even going to say a word until I tell you to! Now shut up, and I’ll let you touch my boobs tonight.”

  My mouth dropped open for a moment, but I quickly closed it again. I swallowed hard as I gazed at her and realized she was completely serious. I gripped my hands into fists a couple more times and then released them as I swallowed a second time.

  Tria raised an eyebrow at me pointedly.

  I was never one to stay quiet, but after that look from Tria, I shut my mouth.

  Chapter 21—Challenge the Beliefs

  Tria turned back to the couple and quickly introduced us.

  “This is Nikki,” she said, “and her husband, Brandon.”

  I huffed a short breath out my nose and gave them both a slight nod.

  “Brandon and Nikki, this is my boyfriend, Liam. He came with me.”

  “What the hell are you doing, Demmy?” Brandon asked with wide eyes. “He can’t stay here!”

  “Brandon!” Nikki said as she turned quickly to him. “I asked her to come here and help with the arrangements. It’s not like Liam’s going to be fucking me tomorrow, so what difference does it make? And call her Tria!”

  “You agreed to do it,” Brandon said. “You agreed to all of it.”

  “Did I say I was backing out?”

  The look on Brandon’s face made me wonder if he didn’t hope she would do just that.

  “Maybe we should take this inside,” Tria suggested, and after a bit more grumbling, I followed the rest of them up rickety wooden steps to the front door.

  The configuration inside the double-RV was odd to say the least. The back part had been cut away to connect with the door of the second RV. The first part had been gutted to be one room housing a kitchen area and a living space. It was cluttered inside but not dirty. The furniture was worn but not quite falling apart. There were pictures of lighthouses on the walls. Lobster knickknacks adorned most of the flat surfaces, and there were piles of homemade candles on every unoccupied square inch. There were stacks of National Fisherman magazines next to a plastic folding chair that faced the couch and a cardboard box filled with mason jars sat near the door.

  Under the kitchen table, there were stacks of canned goods, boxes of saltine crackers, and various other bought-in-bulk items. Nikki brought out iced tea in plastic cups that looked like they were collected from some sporting event, but whatever logo had once graced the side was too worn to be discernible. There was a huge pile of them on the counter by the refrigerator.

  I felt like I was in some twenty-first century version of Sanford and Son, and I wondered at what point an old guy was going to escape from a back RV and clutch at his heart.

  “You have no idea how much this means to me,” Nikki was saying to Tria.

  “You would have done the same for me,” Tria replied.

  I cringed and glanced over to her, wondering if she realized what she was saying. I could tell by her expression she hadn’t really considered how the words could be taken.


  “I mean,” Tria went on, “if I needed you…for anything…”

  “I know.” Nikki smiled slightly.

  There was a pause in the talking, which became way too long for my liking. I tried sipping the tea, but it was unsweetened, and the bitter taste hung around in the back of my throat.

  “So, when’s the party?”

  “Liam.” Tria chastised me with her tone and widened eyes.

  “What?” I said. “You want to just pretend we’re here for something other than a warped fuck-fest?”

  “Liam!” Tria’s eyes widened again, and she mouthed shut up at me.

  “It’s okay, Tria.” Nikki spoke up. “What is it that midwesterners say about elephants hanging out at the table or something like that?”

  “It’s just an elephant in the room,” Brandon corrected.

  “Right.” Nikki agreed with a nod. “Brandon went to the high school in Jonesport. He knows a lot more about life outside.”

  “How’d you manage that?” I asked, genuinely curious. “I thought you guys were all pretty much isolated here.”

  “We do tend to keep to ourselves,” Brandon said as he eyed me coolly. “But the exile is self-imposed. We stay here because we choose to. I volunteered to go outside for schooling to bring knowledge back to the community.”

  His eyes shifted to Tria.

  “Which is what Tria should be doing.”

  “Brandon.” Nikki sighed as she looked at him.

  “Tria’s not coming back, you hear me?” I yelled. “So just get over it.”

  “Liam!”

  “Tria!” I mocked her tone. “This whole ‘use the guy’s name as a form of punishment’ thing is getting old.”

  Brandon snickered under his breath.

  “Brandon!” Nikki scolded him again.

  “What did I do?”

  “Just stop it!”

  More silence as everyone shuffled their feet and pretended to be interested in their drinks.

  “Well?” I wasn’t going to let this go. “Is anyone going to answer my question?”

  “It’s tomorrow,” Nikki said. “As soon as the moon rises.”

  I couldn’t help it—I rolled my eyes.