Brothers in Blue: Max

by St. James,Jeanne

Greg echoed the curse, shrieking it like a parrot. “Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!”

  Amanda frowned at her mistake. “Shhh. Greg. That’s enough. We do have visitors, but I’m not going to let you get out of the car until you stop saying that word.”

  “Why?”

  “’Cause it is a bad word. I should not have said it. People don’t like to hear bad words.”

  “Oh. But you say it all the time. Just like fuck.”

  She couldn’t even respond to that because, to her dismay, the occupants of the car had now spotted the gray Buick, and both doors of the Mercedes flew open. Amanda bit the inside of her cheek as she watched them climb out of the low coupe.

  A well-dressed, stylish blonde and a dark Latino male.

  Panic welled up in her, and she wanted to drive away. She didn’t even realize that her hand had slipped from Greg’s belt buckle until he was already squirming out of the car.

  Amanda steeled herself and followed reluctantly. When she got to the trio, Greg was hopping from foot to foot and talking a mile a minute and, even worse, peppering the word shit throughout. Her mother and Carlos were staring at him with wide eyes. Her mother finally noticed her approach.

  “Darling!” Anne’s voice had enough syrup in it to drown a plate of pancakes. “Oh darling, how I’ve missed you!” She squeezed Amanda’s shoulders with her red-painted, well-manicured claws as she leaned forward to give her “air kisses” that never quite made it to her daughter’s cheeks.

  “Hello, Mother. Carlos. Fancy seeing you here. Were you just in the neighborhood?”

  Carlos moved forward, attempting to welcome Amanda with a real kiss. Amanda turned her head in time. His lips skimmed her cheek. “Mi corazón,” he said softly.

  My heart. My foot, she thought. His pet name for her put her on edge.

  Under Amanda’s evil stare, the color rose under his dark complexion. He should be embarrassed to be a part of this farce. But here he was anyway, apparently not embarrassed enough to stay in Miami. Her mother must have pressured him or promised him something. Or someone. Anne was skilled enough to manipulate blood from a rock.

  Greg was still a bundle of energy and bounced closer to the Mercedes.

  “Oh, oh, sweetheart, don’t touch that car. It’s a rental!” Anne was waving a bejeweled hand in Greg’s direction as if that would shoo him away. Amanda couldn’t help but notice a new stone—more like a boulder—on her mother’s ring finger. Her stepfather must be keeping her happy. And going broke doing it.

  Amanda went over and grabbed Greg’s hand, pinning him to her side.

  “So what are you doing here anyway?”

  Anne gave her a weak smile. “Can’t we go inside?”

  “No.”

  “Well, that’s pretty impolite. Just like refusing to answer my phone calls. I thought I raised you better than that.”

  Amanda bit her lip to refrain from saying something she’d regret later.

  “We’ve come to take you home.”

  “Home?”

  “Yes, since you ignored our numerous messages, Carlos and I had no choice but to come up here ourselves.” She pulled a small blue folder from her Louis Vitton purse. She held it out to her. “Here’s your plane ticket.”

  Amanda stared at the offending item. It didn’t get past her that it was a single ticket, not two. “Carlos, please take Greg over there.”

  “But, Mandy…” He looked at Greg with distaste. That infuriated Amanda even more.

  “Do it.” As he opened his mouth to protest again, she hissed, “No discuta.”

  With a jut of his jaw, he took Greg by the arm and led him away to the front steps. Greg, unaware of the tension, was content to spend some time with his new “friend.”

  Amanda’s gaze swung from them back to her mother, but she winced when she noticed Mrs. Busybody on her front porch, listening and watching the spectacle they were creating.

  Her mother grasped her arm tightly, giving Amanda a shake. “Mandy, what is wrong with you? Why are you treating Carlos like that? Why are you treating me, your own mother, like that? We’ve come to take you home. We miss you. You have deserted your real family.”

  Amanda pulled her arm away with a jerk. “My real family? Greg is my real family. He is my brother.”

  “He’s not your full brother. He’s—”

  “At least he loves me unconditionally. Without one single string attached. Unlike you.”

  Anne’s hand shot out. Amanda’s head was suddenly swimming, and a loud ringing deafened her left ear. The multiple rings on her mother’s fingers had amplified the sting from the openhanded slap. Greg let out a panicked shout.

  “I have given you whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted it. I know what’s best for you.”

  Amanda’s hand came up; she placed her cool palm to her hot cheek, soothing the burn. Her mother had hit her! Greg was calling out her name and struggling against Carlos.

  Somewhere in the back of her spinning mind, she heard Mrs. Myers’ screen door slam. “Fuck!”

  “Mandy! I’m sorry. But I’d do it again if it would knock some sense into you. You don’t belong here. You’ve got the rest of your life ahead of you! Do you want to be tied down with a re—”

  “Don’t. Don’t you dare.”

  Amanda looked at her mother in disgust. Her nostrils flared with each breath she took, the only sign of her struggle to keep her composure. She fought back the tears that welled up. Her mother had hurt her. Physically. Emotionally.

  Her mother had disappointed her once again.

  Lights flashing and sirens blaring, a black-and-white raced up the road, sliding to a stop across the end of the driveway. The door flung open, and Marc raced over to her and her mother, stepping between them.

  “Amanda! Are you okay?”

  Amanda nodded, at a loss of words. She was briefly aware of Marc reaching up and speaking into the radio on his shoulder. There were chaotic voices around her, and she couldn’t tell who was saying what.

  Not only was the situation bad—and embarrassing that it was being carried out on her front lawn—but it was getting worse by the moment as another cruiser squealed to a stop. Next it would be the media.

  Max rushed up to her. He took Amanda by the shoulders and spun her to face him. He tucked a finger under her chin, tilting it to get a better look.

  Max’s expression hardened, and his ice-blue eyes bounced over to Greg, then landed on Carlos. His back grew ramrod straight.

  “Did he do this to you?”

  Amanda wordlessly shook her head.

  “Are you sure…”

  Anne pulled away from Marc to face Max. “I did it, Officer. She’s my daughter, and I have every right to hit her.”

  “You have every right to go to jail for domestic violence.”

  “For smacking my own daughter? I’ve come to take her home with me, and she is being obstinate.”

  “Is that right?” Max grit out.

  “Yes. Mandy… Darling. I took care of everything. You’ll see. You will be much happier. I talked to that lawyer…what’s his name? Mr. Wells. He is making arrangements to find the boy a good facility as we speak.”

  “You did what?” Amanda shook her head, unable to absorb her mother’s words.

  “Greg will be well taken care of. He won’t want for anything. And you will come home, and we will announce your engagement to Carlos.”

  “Her what?” Max’s brows lowered as he looked at Carlos, who suddenly looked a bit paler, then back at Amanda. He then turned his attention back to Anne. “I don’t think so, ma’am. I am not letting her go.”

  “What do you mean?” She looked from Amanda and back to Max, seeing the arm he had wrapped protectively around her shoulders. “Mandy? Have you been sleeping with this…this police officer?” When Amanda didn’t confirm or deny, her mother gasped. “Are you kidding me? You would give up all that Carlos and his family could give you…for this? For this blue-collar worker?” Anne spit out blue-collar worker
as if the words alone had dirtied her tongue.

  “What does that have to do with anything, Mother? You’d rather me marry a man I don’t love just because his family is wealthy. You want me to be just like you?”

  Carlos stepped next to her mother, looking nervously at the two larger men. Men who were also cops. “Anne.”

  “Carlos…I have this under control.”

  His accent was thicker than ever, something Amanda recognized that happened when he was lying or nervous. “Anne, I think we should leave.”

  “I’m not leaving without my daughter.”

  Max stepped in front of Amanda, shielding her from their view. “You have no choice. If you don’t get out of here right now, I am dragging the both of you to jail.”

  Amanda moved from behind Max to face Anne. Anne was her mother; she needed to take control of this situation. For once in her life, she realized she needed to be in control. Her. Not anyone else. “Mother, you should go.”

  “Mandy, please…don’t throw your life away. I only want what’s best for you.”

  Amanda closed her eyes, then threw back her head, letting out a short, bitter laugh. She focused once again on the older woman.

  “Wow, Mother, you have a funny way of showing it,” she said, touching her still red cheek. “Just like you thought it was best that I didn’t go to Dad’s funeral? You thought it was best not to tell me that Dad died until after his funeral, so I missed it?” She confronted Carlos. “Did you know that, Carlos? Did you know that this woman was capable of that?”

  Carlos sadly shook his head. “No. Lo siento, mi corazón.”

  “I’m sure you are,” she bit off with a mocking tone. “And don’t call me that.”

  Max studied Amanda’s face, concern crossing his brow. “Do you want me to arrest her? I have every right to. She left a mark.”

  “No.” It was then that she realized that Marc and Greg had disappeared. Marc’s cruiser was gone. The driveway was no longer blocked. The interlopers could leave.

  “Ma’am, time to go. And I’ll give you this warning—if I see you here again without Amanda’s permission, I will arrest you. And that is a promise.”

  Amanda watched as her shocked mother took Carlos’s arm for support. He helped her over to the car and into the driver’s seat. As he straightened up, Amanda called out, “Carlos!”

  He looked at her.

  “Nunca deseo ver o oír de usted otra vez.”

  He tilted his head in acceptance before sliding into the passenger seat.

  Amanda stood frozen in place until the silver Mercedes disappeared down the street.

  She let out a shaky sigh. Suddenly she was trembling uncontrollably. She hated it. She hated the overwhelming fury she was feeling right now. She hated that her mother could do this to her.

  It wasn’t even the slap as much as the gall of thinking that Amanda would drop everything and come running when called. Or when bought. Money wasn’t everything. Amanda was learning that.

  Max reached out to envelop her in his arms, tucking her head under his chin. She rested against his dark blue uniform, soothed by his solidness and by his scent. She breathed deeply, trying to control her emotions.

  His voice was low and slightly husky in her ear. “What did you tell him?”

  She softened as he stroked a gentle hand down her back. “That I never want to see or hear from him again.” His hand paused, and he disengaged himself from her.

  “Let’s go inside. There are too many eyes around here.”

  She agreed and followed him into the house.

  As he closed the door behind her, he took her hand in his and led her over to the couch.

  “What happened to Greg?”

  “He’s with Marc.”

  “Oh.” They sank onto the couch. Amanda leaned into him, needing to feel his energy. She was sapped. “What are they doing?”

  “Greg’s doing a ride along.”

  “A what?” It dawned on her what he was talking about. Worry flickered through her and creased her brow. “Is that safe?”

  “Amanda, this is Manning Grove. Not Miami.”

  IT WAS SELFISH of him, but he was glad Marc took Greg with him. Max wanted to be alone with her. The ride along was safe. Marc was responsible and a good cop; it was perfectly safe.

  Even so, he hoped it ended up being a slow evening in Manning Grove.

  He turned his attention back to Greg’s sister. Her cheek was still red as well as a bit inflamed. “Are you okay? Do you want some ice?”

  Amanda lifted fingers to her cheek. “I’m fine. Don’t you need to get back to work?”

  “I was actually finishing up my shift. But right now I want to talk to you.”

  “Whenever you say that, we end up naked.”

  He chucked softly. She was right. “Unfortunately, this time will have to be different. I’m still on duty until I return the car and get out of my uniform.” He brushed a wayward strand of auburn hair away from her face to tuck it behind her ear. “Why did they come here in person?”

  “I refused to take either of their calls.”

  “Who was that?”

  Amanda understood what he was asking. “An ex-boyfriend.”

  “Your mother said something about an engagement.”

  “In her dreams.”

  “Why would she want you to marry Carlos?”

  “Because Carlos and his family have money. Not just money, but old money. And I guess my mother thinks money is more important than love. No, I don’t guess; I know.”

  It almost surprised Max that she didn’t agree with her mother’s philosophy. But then he couldn’t help but notice how much she had matured since coming to Manning Grove—it seemed as though months had put years on her. “You dated?”

  “All through college. But after I caught him cheating with my best friend twice, I kicked him to the curb.”

  Carlos didn’t deserve her. Max might not be rich and he may be a “blue-collar” worker—the witch had said it like it was an insult—but anyone could see that he was a better catch than Carlos.

  If he was trying to be caught.

  He changed his train of thought. “What’s your degree in?”

  “Business administration. That was something else my mother controlled. She insisted I major in that. She hoped I’d meet a rich businessman.” She sighed. “I wanted to major in fashion design. That’s why I ended up bartending after college instead of taking advantage of my degree. It was fun and it pissed her off.”

  That was so like his Amanda, giving as good as she got. His Amanda…

  “So would you have come to your father’s funeral if you had known?”

  “Of course! We may have never been close—one more thing my mother controlled—but he was still my father. When I found out that my mother never gave me the message… I’m sure Dolores expected that a mother would tell her daughter that her father died. It wasn’t Dolores’s fault.”

  “You know, after all my years of being a cop and a Marine, I’ve never heard anything so downright cruel.”

  Amanda turned wide, glassy eyes to him. “It was, wasn’t it?”

  His heart skipped a beat. He reached out and, with his thumb and forefinger, carefully turned her face up to his.

  This woman took his breath away.

  He searched her face.

  “Max,” she whispered.

  He brushed his lips across hers. And again. Her lips parted, giving him complete access. Their tongues danced with each other. He buried his hands in her hair in his attempt to bring her even closer.

  He kissed the corners of her mouth, then pulled back slightly before he totally lost his head. “I’m glad to hear that love is more important to you than money,” he murmured against her lips.

  “And why is that?”

  How could he answer that? Why was he getting so soft? He couldn’t. He wasn’t.

  Max disentangled their arms and jumped to his feet. “I have to get back to the station. I’ll grab
us takeout and stop back. I’ll get Marc to drop Greg off after the shift.”

  As he left the house, his feelings smacked him across the forehead like a two-by-four.

  He was done. Toast.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The melodic tone started out soft; then the longer it went, the louder it got. It took a few seconds for Amanda to locate her cell phone, but she finally found it under Greg’s NASCAR pillow that was haphazardly tossed on the couch.

  She had no doubt that her brother had been playing with her phone again. She was going to have to hide it from now on. Hopefully, she wouldn’t get a bill next month with costly calls to Italy on it. Like last month’s.

  She looked at the caller ID. She didn’t recognize the number, but she was familiar with the area code. Florida.

  “Hello?”

  “Sweetie…”

  Her stepfather’s voice was unmistakable. “Hello, Norman.” She waited on bated breath to find out why he would be calling her. Especially after what had occurred the last time she saw her mother. “What’s going on?”

  Maybe he wanted to smooth things over. Her stepfather would do anything for Anne. Amanda just couldn’t figure out why.

  “It’s your mother.”

  Of course it was. Here it comes…

  “She’s not well.”

  …the guilt trip. “What, is she still upset about what happened when she showed up here and tried to take over my life again?”

  “No. Well, yes, she’s upset about that. But no, that’s not why I’m calling. Your mother is sick.”

  Amanda paused. “What do you mean? She looked fine when she was here.”

  And that was only a month ago.

  “She is really sick, Amanda. The doctors have sent her home. They are out of options.”

  Amanda’s hand trembled. She sat down on the couch. “Yeah, right.” She didn’t believe it. It was another one of her mother’s ploys. It had to be.

  “Sweetie, have I ever lied to you before?”

  Honestly, she could say that her stepfather had never lied to her. Her mother had only been married to him for a little over two years, however, and she had been gone for at least six months of that time. She really didn’t know what he was capable of. After all, he did marry Anne. That wasn’t saying much for him.