1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Nine

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  Yep, more feminist fiction. More whining and “poor me, we’re under men’s control and we hate it” philosophy. But damned if he wasn’t going to kick ass on this assignment and graduate. Even if it killed him.

  Which it might. From boredom.

  The air was brutally cold, warning of the storm about to roll in. Time to get the plow ready. He had a solid list of clients to make some extra money in the winter, but he’d be extra busy the next two months trying to handle the workload. He checked his watch. He was later than normal, especially if he wanted to stop for coffee on the way to Verily College. He headed out the door and heard a shout. Looking toward the driveway, he watched a bunch of boys scramble away from his truck and race down the street, whooping in loud, excited shouts of victory.

  Connor ran to his truck, a curse blistering past his lips. Little shits had slashed one of his tires. The right passenger was totally flat, a jagged slice ripped through the rubber.

  Hell, no. They weren’t getting away with this.

  He took off after them. His long legs made up time from their shorter strides. He caught a flash of red up ahead, then something flew through the air and dropped on the ground. Darting around corners, they picked up the pace, and age finally triumphed. By the time Connor got a few blocks down, they’d disappeared, their voices fading in the sharp, cold air.

  Sons of bitches.

  He knew it was the gang that had picked on Luke. He’d need to get some security cameras installed or set up a watch. Probably was retaliation for the DS incident. Catching his breath, he walked back, mad at himself for not pushing faster, and noticed a black object on the pavement.

  He picked it up and turned it over in his gloved hands.

  Glasses. Black rimmed glasses like Harry Potter.

  Ah, crap. Was Ella’s son now involved with their gang? He seemed like a good kid, but maybe he’d gone the other route. Join the bullies rather than be picked on. He didn’t blame him. Sometimes, it felt like the easy way out, but no way was he getting away with this. Ella needed to know.

  Connor headed back and inspected the damage on the tire. He had a spare, but these suckers were expensive. Pushing away his irritation, he walked next door and rang the bell.

  Her face reflected the same irritation he felt. He figured she’d be friendlier after his visit, but in a way, she’d grown even colder. Her dark hair was twisted tightly back in a severe braid. Today she wore baggy tweed trousers, black waterproof boots that looked squishy soft, and a black turtleneck. The only color was her lips, which thankfully were bare from her usual orange garish color. “Hi. Is something wrong? I’m running late.”

  Her politeness rubbed his nerves. Even as his professor and next-door neighbor, she treated him with icy politeness. Hadn’t he offered to babysit and help out? Hadn’t he proved he wasn’t a jerk? “I think your son vandalized my car.”

  She jerked back. Her mouth made a little O before her brow snapped into a frown. “That’s impossible. Luke would never do anything like that. What happened?”

  “My tire was slashed by the gang of boys who likes to hang out around here. I think I saw Luke running away with them.”

  She blew out a breath. “Trust me, you’re mistaken. He still doesn’t have many friends, and he’s a good boy. He would never hurt someone or their property.”

  He lifted the evidence. “Are these his glasses?”

  Ella blinked, then slowly reached out to take them. “Oh, my God. Where did you find these?”

  “Scene of the crime. They were running from me and one kid dropped this. Does he wear a red jacket?”

  “Yes. But-but this is impossible. Luke doesn’t do things like this, I swear to you. They slashed your tire?”

  He nodded. Regret flowed through him. He knew kids did bad things sometimes, it was part of life, but he had a gut feeling Luke could go down a wrong turn. His parents were divorced and he’d moved to a new school. Ella had said his dad wasn’t around a lot. That was a lot of shit to deal with. “He’s probably acting out. Who knows what happened. Do you want me to talk to him?”

  She shook her head, dark eyes filled with grief. His heart squeezed in sympathy. “I don’t know. Maybe I should handle it? I’m so sorry about this. I can call the school right now and find out what’s going on.”

  “No, don’t. Let him finish out the day and feel guilty. It’s the best punishment for a kid like Luke. If it’s okay, I’d like to offer him a deal to work off the tire.”

  “I’ll pay for the damage, Connor. I feel terrible—this has never happened before.”

  He shifted his feet. How involved should he get with this? He didn’t want to pretend he knew what she should do, but he knew Luke’s behavior needed a strong hand. “I’m not worried about the tire, Ella. I’ve been through this stuff before. I’m not trying to tell you how to be a mom, but I had issues like this raising my brother. I’d like to tell Luke he needs to pay off the tire by working for me. It shouldn’t be your responsibility, and if you pay for him, he’ll figure he won.”

  She tilted her head in interest. “What type of work?”

  “I do snow plowing with my truck in the local area. Have a list of clients. I usually shovel out their pathways manually. Luke could do that for me.”

  Ella nodded slowly. “Sounds fair.”

  “I also have some projects I’m working on in between work and school. Building my brother a shed up in Verily when the snow stops. He can help and I can teach him some stuff.”

  Those brown eyes narrowed as she studied him. Once again, the golden swirls around her irises intrigued him, as if trying to tell him there was something deeper about Ella Blake if he only one took the time to look.

  Not that he had the time or interest.

  “You have a very busy schedule,” she finally said.

  “I told you that in class when you agreed to give me extra time for my paper.”

  Surprisingly, her lips twitched in a smile. “You did. But I never agreed to more time.”

  “Right. That was me being an ass.”

  This time, she laughed. “You’re learning.” Curiosity lit her gaze. “You had to raise your younger brother? Did something happen to your parents?”

  He always avoided talking about his past. Other than his brother, he wasn’t one to share emotions or delve into painful history. But he found himself telling her anyway. “My mom took off when Nate was about ten. Dad pretty much fell apart in a drunken stupor, so there was no one around. We didn’t have any other family. I just took over.”

  Ella stared at him for a long while. “He was Luke’s age? How old were you?”

  He shrugged. “Fourteen. I was able to handle it.” He couldn’t help the proud grin that escaped. “Nate’s a genius. He worked for NASA and now he’s employed by a private company working on space travel.”

  “He got through college with a scholarship?”

  “Half of it.”

  “Did loans pay for the other half?”

  “Nah, I didn’t want him in debt. I worked a few jobs and saved so he had most of it paid.”

  “You worked a few jobs when you were a teenager? And paid for your brother’s college on your own?”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Honestly, it wasn’t a big deal. I was working steady by sixteen. Dad had the mortgage and main bills paid at least, even though we rarely saw him. I’d never been great in school anyway, and Nate is gifted. He got the brains in the family. It made sense for him to go.”

  “I see,” she said softly. Why was she looking at him funny? As if she was seeing him for the first time? “But you’re in college now.”

  “I’m going for management. The company I work for won’t promote anyone who doesn’t have a degree.”

  “You decided on Verily. That’s a hard school to get in to.”

  “They offered me credits for life experience and my current work, so I was able to chop some time off. I got lucky, too. Scored high enough on the college entry exams.”

/>   “Did you go the full four years?”

  He wondered at the odd inquisition but kept answering. “Nah, I stuffed four years into two.”

  “Other than my class, what’s your GPA?”

  “3.9.”

  “But your brother is the one with the brains, huh?”

  Her gaze stripped away the lies and got to the truth. No wonder she was a good teacher and an awesome mom. No one could hide under a stare like that, whether he wanted to or not. He’d never talked about himself this much before. Hell, the whole evening with Tracey they’d flirted, talked pop culture, and discussed her acting career. Nothing about him. Yet, here he was, spilling his guts while he stood in his neighbor’s doorway.

  Suddenly uneasy by everything she seemed to see, he cleared his throat, trying to get back his footing. Another cliché. Why was he noticing every simplified thought when it had never bothered him before?

  He gave her a smile and fell back into his usual female mode. “Hope I didn’t ruin your Valentine’s Day. I know it’s an important day to women.”

  She shuddered. “I despise Valentine’s Day. I think it was created to completely torture the male species and force women to feel bad about themselves if they’re not in a picture-perfect, sugar-coated, commercially driven relationship.”

  He lifted his brow. Who would’ve thought they’d actually agree on one thing? The standard words fell from his lips without thought. “I’m sure there’s a line of men who are waiting to take you out tonight. You’re pretty as a picture. You just have to get out there. My offer to babysit still stands.”

  He waited for her to blush or smile, but instead she glared. “That’s the stupidest line I’ve ever heard in my life. We both know there’s no line. I’m not pretty. And you’re using those ridiculous clichés again that I hate. Why do you have to cheapen a genuine conversation with such drivel?”

  His mouth fell open. “I was only trying to give you a compliment. Make you feel better about Valentine’s Day.”

  “No, you weren’t. You were trying to make yourself feel better by believing inane lines spoken to women actually make them feel good. You were being lazy because God forbid, you take the time to actually find out who someone really is. Your so-called compliments insult both of us. Don’t you ever get real, Connor Dunkle?”

  Shock poured through his system. How had this happened? Her son vandalized his car and suddenly she was insulting him? He dealt with reality every single damn day. “Hey, I’m the one being attacked for being nice. Ever consider that your adversarial ways are blocking you from getting a date?”

  “I’m not looking for a pretty face to date. I’m looking for someone who’s not afraid to get messy and see the pearl buried under the dirty, closed-mouthed oyster. Have you ever done something for a woman without waiting for a pat on the back? Or given a compliment on anything other than her appearance?”

  “I respect a woman’s brain. It’s not my fault your entire gender is so obsessed with their appearance, body, and age. Women crave approval and reassurances that they’re beautiful. Don’t get mad at me just because I give you what you really want.”

  She shook her head in disgust. “Bull. You don’t bother to dig deeper because you choose not to. You don’t know how to relate to creative women who aren’t afraid to get ugly and tell the truth. It’s easier to see the surface image, isn’t it? Like your date,” she added with a slightly bitter tone.

  Temper hit him. How dare she question his intentions? She knew nothing about him. With a low growl, he leaned forward and challenged her back. “Oh, yeah? You think you haven’t judged me by my appearance? By my job or my apartment? I work construction, Ella. I have blistered, raw hands, crazy shifts, and don’t own a suit. I’m thirty-eight years old without a college degree. I don’t live in a fancy house and I’m not a fancy guy. Who’s not being real by saying you never judged me by my appearance?”

  The breath gushed out of her lungs and she took a step back. Silence descended as the angry words hung in the air between them. He shook his head in disgust. There was no reason to get upset by the truth. Women saw him as an attractive guy to have sex with but not marry. They ogled his body, not his brains. Most women he dated had no interest in a real conversation unless it was a segue to bed. Nate was the marrying kind. Stable, financially secure, wicked smart.

  Not Connor.

  “Forget it. This whole thing is ridiculous. I gotta go. I’ll check in with you later about Luke. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  He stomped off without another word and refused to look back. But her words lingered in his mind for a long, long time.

  * * * *

  Valentine’s Day was officially her nemesis.

  From the moment Connor knocked on her door, things had drifted into a steep decline. Her son had committed vandalism. A crime. It was completely opposite who he was as a person and how she raised him. Her stomach curled with nausea until she wanted to just drive to the school and confront him. But she agreed having some time to deal with his guilt—hoping he had some—would be a good lesson. After all, she’d seen it a zillion times portrayed in The Brady Bunch.

  School was a fog of battling concentration between the ridiculous hormones of college students on a national holiday for love. No one seemed interested in her lessons, preferring to talk about plans for the evening or showing off presents received from companions. The break room and cafeteria were cluttered with ridiculous stuffed animals that had no purpose, too much candy, and balloons formed in the shape of hearts. Her coworkers were just as guilty as the students. She’d caught Bernard, the history professor, trudging down the hall with two-dozen roses in his grip and a silly grin on his lips.

  Awful. Just...awful.

  Late morning, she looked frantically for her glasses and ended up finding them when she sat down and heard a solid crunch. When she pulled them from under her lap, the broken frame dangled limp between her fingers.

  The word vibrated beneath her chest, dying to escape, but still Ella fought it back. Cursing was not a solution to the problem. The day had to end sometime, and then it would be over for a whole year.

  By the time she got in her car to drive home, the roads were slippery from the snow beginning to fall. She tried to distract herself with music, but Frank Sinatra crooned on too many stations. When she punched the buttons, sappy love songs filled the speakers.

  She clicked it off and drove through the snow in silence, squinting. Dammit. Her spare set of glasses was at home.

  An hour later than usual, hands trembling from the slick roads and tension of not being able to properly see, Ella pulled to the curb and cut the engine. She mentally rehearsed the speech she’d been practicing for Luke. Grabbing her briefcase and purse, she tiredly pushed through the door.

  And blinked.

  “What’s going on?”

  Connor and Luke sat on the couch. Two mugs lay on the coffee table. They looked like they had been in deep conversation, and when they heard her voice, both jumped to their feet, looking almost guilty. “Sorry, we didn’t hear you come in,” Connor said. “How are the roads?”

  “Terrible. What are you doing here?” she asked.

  Connor looked down at Luke and something passed between them. Connor gave a slight nod, and her son stepped forward.

  “Mom, I’m sorry. I screwed up bad.”

  Her heart pounded. At least he was going to confess. His beautiful dark eyes looked sad behind his glasses, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. Swallowing back the need to go comfort him, Ella dropped her bags and sat down on the leather recliner facing him. “Go ahead.”

  He took a shaky breath. “I slashed Connor’s tire. With a group of boys from the neighborhood. I didn’t want to, but I—I got mad. I got tired of being on the outside and not having any friends, and they dared me and called me a pussy, so I did it.”

  Emotion choked her throat. God, it was so hard to be a kid these days. But life was going to get harder, and more difficult choices had to be
made. If she didn’t do her job and teach him how important every decision was, she wouldn’t be giving him the right tools. She kept her face impassive, letting him see her disappointment. “Connor came to me this morning and told me,” she said. “He found your glasses. Are you admitting this because you got caught?”

  He shook his head. “No. I felt sick all morning. I didn’t know he saw me. When I got home from school, I went next door and told him what happened.”

  Connor spoke up. “He’s telling the truth. He apologized and offered to make it right. So we came back here to wait for you, so he could tell you himself.” Connor placed a hand on Luke’s shoulder and squeezed in reassurance. “I told him my day was shot because I had to get a new tire, but I respected him being man enough to own up to it.”

  Stupid tears burned her eyes. To see the flash of satisfaction in her son’s eyes for being called a man broke her heart. Yes, he’d made a big mistake, but he made it right. It was the most she could ask for, and she ached to hug him tight and not let go for a long time.

  Instead, she cleared her throat and nodded. “I agree with Connor. I’m proud you took it upon yourself to tell the truth. Can you tell me who these boys are? What do you think we should do about them?”

  “They’re not in my school, Mom. They’re older. I don’t see them every day. At first, they gave me a hard time, but then they said if I proved myself, I could be part of their group.”

  “Do you know their names so I can contact their parents?”

  “I’ve seen them before, Ella,” Connor interrupted. “They drift in and out of the neighborhood, looking for trouble, but I haven’t been able to track down where they actually live yet.”

  “They said Connor needed a lesson because he’s always interfering with them.”

  “Are they dangerous?” she asked. What if they began stalking Luke? Or tried to physically assault him? “Should I call the police?”

  “They’ve never done anything before,” Connor said. “I think this was more about Luke than me. But I’ve ordered some security cameras for outside my house. I picked up some for you, too, with a monitor. I’ll install them tomorrow.”