My Heart to Keep: A Maxwell Family Saga - Book Four

by Alexander, S. B.

“But Daddy,” I cried. “I want to see Celia.”

  Daddy regarded Momma.

  “We’ll wait to hear from Liam,” Momma said. “Until then, go up to your room.”

  I hesitated, but Momma gave me one of those “I dare you to beg” looks, so I ran out.

  I started to climb the stairs then stopped when I heard Daddy’s voice.

  “I pray no one left this party drunk and decided to drive.”

  “Jeff, honey, take a breath,” Momma said. “Your blood pressure is high enough as it is.”

  “I expected something like this from the boys, but not Quinn,” he said in defeat.

  Heavy footfalls made me flinch, and I turned my attention to the top of the stairs as Carter came down.

  “Eavesdropping, Quinn?”

  I threw him the finger, ready to lock myself in my room until next summer.

  “Come with me,” he said.

  “I can’t. I’m supposed to be in my room.”

  Carter peered around the bannister. “They won’t know.”

  I arched a brow and shook my head. “Yes, they will.”

  “I’ll take the blame,” he said.

  I didn’t want to be alone, and I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I knew Celia was going to be okay.

  I huffed. “Fine. If Daddy doubles my punishment, I’ll make sure Brianna knows the real you.”

  He chuckled as he flicked his head to the front door. “Let’s go.”

  I debated for a second before I followed Carter out the door and onto the porch. “Where are we going?”

  “Do you want to see Celia or not?”

  I glanced at my jersey-fabric shorts and T-shirt.

  Carter angled his head. “You look fine.”

  If I went back inside, I wouldn’t get a chance to see Celia. At least I was wearing a bra, and I did have on flip-flops.

  Carter’s gaze drifted past me. “Your window is closing, sis.”

  I didn’t know why he was doing this for me. Daddy would lay into him as hard as he had me.

  I sighed heavily. I might be banging another nail into my coffin, but I had to be there for Celia. If the tables were turned, she would jump through hell to be there for me.

  I ran down the porch steps and climbed into his truck. I would take whatever additional punishment Daddy handed down.

  Mom had her laptop on her legs, glasses perched on her nose, and a cup of coffee in her hands as she read something on her computer screen.

  I stepped down off the last step and onto our worn wooden floor. “You’re up early for a Sunday.”

  The only room Mom had not renovated in our new farmhouse was the family room. It was the one area where we spent the most time, and she didn’t see any reason to put money into new floors or furniture, since we were kids who had accidents and played rough.

  “Too hot to sleep,” she said, not glancing up from her screen. “I should be saying the same to you. You kids never get up before nine, and it’s only seven thirty.”

  I wound my way around one of two couches and a chair then dropped down next to her. “I thought the summers in North Carolina and Texas were brutal.” I yawned.

  She tapped a key on her computer. “We had air-conditioned homes when we lived there. It’s too expensive to have the house outfitted for it here. Besides, I want to put my money into a new heating system before winter sets in. The fireplace in this room only heats up this area.”

  I eyed the stone fireplace, which was tall enough for my younger sisters and brothers to walk into. Mom had used it quite a bit last winter right after we’d moved in.

  I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, squinting at the rays of sun spilling in through one of three windows facing the front yard.

  My mind drifted to the night before as I listened to Mom’s fingers fly over her keyboard.

  What a mess the party had been. Quinn had kept texting me and calling me, but I’d wanted her to sleep it off before we talked. Nothing good would’ve come from our conversation while she was under the influence.

  “Mom, when you were a teenager, did you ever get drunk?”

  Her fingers froze over the keyboard. “Was Marcus drinking last night?”

  “No.” Although he might have been after he left the party, but I didn’t want to plant any seeds for her to get freaked out over. Besides, Marcus was asleep in his room. I’d checked when I passed his room earlier. “Quinn was tipsy. Well, more than tipsy.” I blew out a heavy breath as our quiet interlude flashed before me.

  Stop thinking about that. You’re sitting next to your mom.

  “Is that why you kids came home early? I asked Emma, but she didn’t elaborate. She just said a fight broke out, and Marcus wasn’t part of it. Then she got a phone call, as I was putting Harlan to bed.”

  I popped my head back against the couch. “Quinn started the fight.”

  She wiped her brow with her fingers, moving wisps of her dirty-blond hair from her forehead. “Is that so? Jeff and Hazel must be beside themselves.”

  “Oh yeah. Mr. Thompson was furious. I’m not allowed to see Quinn until further notice.” Knowing her dad, Quinn was probably grounded for the rest of her high school days.

  “So, Emma didn’t mention that Celia was rushed to the hospital?”

  My mom gasped. “Oh God, no! Is Celia okay?”

  I shrugged. “I think so.” I hadn’t heard from Liam, but no news was good news… usually. “I need to call Liam.”

  “Was Celia drinking too?” Mom asked.

  I bobbed my head.

  Her tone dropped. “And you and Ethan?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  She sighed before taking a swig of coffee as though caffeine was her alcohol. “Look, son. It doesn’t matter if I drank in high school. What matters is knowing the effects of what alcohol and drugs can do to a person. It’s important to never get behind the wheel impaired and use alcohol or drugs as a crutch to drown your problems.”

  I kicked up my legs and rested my bare feet on the coffee table, which was littered with pamphlets and folders.

  Leaning forward, I picked up a pamphlet. “Are you sending us to Greenridge Academy?” Please say no, at least not me. “Is this the school that the triplets went to?”

  She frowned as she brought her cup up to her lips. “I’m thinking about it. You boys need structure. I would like to say I can handle the eight of you, and I actually think I did a pretty good job when your dad was on deployment. But I didn’t have five teenagers to discipline.”

  I flipped through the pamphlet, perusing the pictures of happy students holding books, an aerial view of the school, the football field, and even the gymnasium. I swallowed thickly as my stomach sank. “You’re sending me too?” I held my breath.

  She studied me while she drank her coffee.

  I stopped on the last page of the pamphlet. “Is this…”

  “Yep,” she said. “That’s Kross.”

  My cousin Kross Maxwell was in a boxing ring, sparring with an older man.

  “I think Marcus and Jasper will like the school,” Mom said. “Marcus likes boxing, and Jasper loves any sport. You know, they have a great basketball program. Lots of their students go on to great colleges and universities, and I’ve been told scouts love what they see from the students. Many of them, according to the brochures, have been drafted into the NBA and NFL and other major sports organizations, even the Olympics.”

  It sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than me. I fixated on a younger version of Kross, and even as a teenager, he was built much like Marcus. I also didn’t doubt that what the brochure touted was true. I just didn’t want to leave home or start over.

  My mom sat back in her chair. “I’m going up to visit the school before I make a decision. I know you’ll be at camp, but the rest of the family is going with me. Kross is even coming to show us around. He knows several of the staff. He’s been in touch with the boxing coach the last few years as well.”

  “So no firm decisio
n?” I didn’t want to argue with her. She’d been through enough with everything that had happened in our family since Dad passed away. Maybe she would decide in the end not to ship off her boys. “What about Emma? Is she included?”

  Mom set her cup down on the table. Then she laid her hand on my leg. “I don’t like what I might have to do, Maiken. I want your support if I decide to flip the switch.”

  I lowered the brochure to my lap. “I don’t want to go. I’m sure it’s a good school. But I just got into the groove at Kensington. My back is better, which means I can play better, and I want to take the team to state. If I go to a new school, I’ll be the black sheep again. And it’s my senior year, Mom.”

  Her brown eyes were soft as she considered me. “Tell you what. We’ll talk more when you get back from camp. I’ll have weighed the pros and cons for each of you, and yes, Emma will be included. Actually, she’s the most excited. They have a great volleyball team, and some of the girls have gone on to play in the Olympics.”

  She’d warned us last year when she’d talked with Emma, Ethan, Marcus, and me. I remembered her exact words.

  “I understand that your father’s passing has been difficult. But drinking isn’t the way to cope. Fighting isn’t either. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for all of you, but if things don’t change, then maybe military school will give you the structure you need.”

  Regardless, the summer was starting out with a hell of a bang. Marcus had been a pain since school let out, or rather since Sloane had broken up with him, causing Mom to contemplate some difficult decisions.

  My girl was a different person all of a sudden. Yet it had just been one incident, so I couldn’t give up on her. I loved her too much to let one bad decision ruin our relationship.

  My focus, though, was basketball. It had to be. The sport was my ticket to college—at least I was praying it was—so whether I played at Kensington or another school, then so be it.

  I hugged my knees to my chest as I rocked in a hard chair in a small, windowless waiting room at the hospital. It felt like I was in jail, and the four bare walls were closing in on me.

  My head pounded like there was a small person inside banging a hammer against my skull. My mouth was bone dry, and my stomach kept growling. At least I wasn’t puking.

  So this is what a hangover feels like. I didn’t think I’d had that much to drink, but I guessed I had.

  Carter strutted in like he’d gotten a good night’s sleep. His amber eyes were bright, his brown hair was combed back, and he held two cups with lids in his hands. He gave me one. “Drink.”

  I needed something to take away the nastiness in my mouth. “What is it?” It wasn’t hot.

  He dropped down in the chair next to me. “Tomato juice. It will help.”

  “You know this from experience?” He probably did. After all, he was in college, and I was sure he went to frat parties.

  “It doesn’t matter. Mom called. She wants you to come home.”

  I sipped the juice, scrunching up my nose. The acidity was pungent. “I’ll probably be grounded longer now.”

  He sipped on his beverage, which smelled like coffee. “She’s not happy with either one of us.”

  “Why did you bring me anyway?” I hadn’t asked him yet.

  On the car ride over last night, my brain had been foggy, and I hadn’t exactly been in a talking mood. I doubted he would’ve fessed up either. Carter didn’t like talking unless he was yelling at someone, although since he’d gotten home from college for the summer, he seemed different. It was as though he was seeing the world from a different perspective, or maybe he really had grown wings and flown the coop.

  He lifted his broad shoulders. “You were going to find a way on your own. So I wanted to make it easier for you and soften the blow with Mom and Dad.”

  “Who are you, and what did you do with my brother?” I teased.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” He sounded hurt.

  I took another drink of the nasty juice. “You’re not exactly one to help me break the rules.”

  “Can’t I help my sister?”

  I could probe more, but Carter was a closed-door kind of guy. He didn’t show his feelings, nor would he tell me his secrets.

  We sat in silence, both watching the door. I was waiting for Liam to return. He’d gone to see if he could find out more on Celia. So far, we’d learned she had a severe concussion. She also had a high level of alcohol in her system. The doctor was running tests to make sure she didn’t have any bleeding in the brain. And she’d been in and out of consciousness.

  “Why did you hit that girl?” Carter asked.

  I licked the cut on my lip. “Wherever Sloane goes, trouble follows. I hated that she was there. I hated that she was ruining my party. In truth, I had some excess bad mojo with her, and the booze made me brave.” I went on to explain what Sloane had done to Maiken last year.

  “He’s lucky he didn’t get seriously hurt,” Carter said as though he genuinely cared. “What was she doing at the party?”

  “Marcus must’ve invited her, but I was surprised she even came. She just broke up with him.” I couldn’t keep up with their tense relationship. Toward the end of the school year, they had become two hellions. Marcus had started drinking again. Sloane had snubbed Maiken and me in the halls at school, which was mind-blowing considering she’d broken down and told us about how her dad had died in a barn fire and how she blamed herself. Not only that, she’d been apologetic for her role in ruining Maiken’s basketball season. She was an enigma for sure. “I was worried about Marcus doing something stupid at my party.” I laughed. “I ended up doing the stupid thing. Now look. Celia got hurt because of me.”

  “I’m sorry about Celia. She’s lucky, though.”

  I sighed. “No shit.”

  “You know us Thompsons have fire in our blood. It’s about time you finally showed some of that,” he said teasingly.

  I smiled at Carter. I liked this softer side of my brother. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so nice to me. It wasn’t as if he treated me like crap, but he could be cold at times.

  “It wasn’t my first time throwing a punch. I hit her right after Maiken was rushed to the hospital last year.”

  He regarded me proudly. “For real?”

  “It felt good to hit her. Well, not for my hand.” I set the cup of juice down on the table next to me. I couldn’t drink any more. “Are you in trouble with Mom and Dad for bringing me here?”

  “What are they going to do to me? Dad could try and ground me, but I’m not a kid anymore. I have worse problems anyway.”

  My eyes widened. “What does that mean?”

  He gave me a sidelong glance. “The week before the semester ended, I got arrested for being drunk and disorderly on campus.”

  I gasped, and the intake of air got stuck in my throat. Carter had always been the good boy. If he’d done something terrible in high school, he hadn’t gotten caught. “Does Daddy know?”

  He choked. “God no. If he did, he’d probably lock me up in the barn.”

  I giggled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  I snorted. “Drunk, huh? Is there a pattern forming in our family?”

  He grinned for a mere second before losing his smile. “I was lucky, Quinn. One, I wasn’t driving. Two, the dude I decked isn’t pressing charges.”

  I bit a nail. “Do you think Sloane will press charges?” I hadn’t even thought of that. I could go to jail. No. No. No.

  He grabbed my hand from my mouth. “She won’t.”

  My stomach churned. “You don’t know that.”

  “Even if she does, nothing will come of it. She was out of control too.”

  I furrowed my brows. “Why is your situation different? I mean, why can the guy you hit press charges?”

  He got up and dumped his cup into the trash near the door. “Because he was an innocent bystander at a party who looked at me the wrong way. Quinn, I prefer if M
om and Dad don’t know.”

  Daddy would have a stroke if he knew Carter had been arrested. “I’m not a tattler.” I yawned. My body was beginning to feel weak and tired.

  My brother returned to his seat, his expression somber. “I know. Can I tell you something else in confidence?”

  Carter and I had never ever told each other our secrets. “Of course.”

  “I’m thinking of dropping out of college.”

  What is happening around me? I felt as though the party had been some sort of launch to another planet. “Why?” I shouldn’t have been surprised. Carter had never been into school. “You were the one who decided to go.” Momma and Daddy hadn’t forced him or encouraged him. Our parents might be strict, but they wanted us to make our own decisions when it came to college.

  Liam ambled in. Black circles painted his tired amber eyes as he yawned. “I’m ready for bed.”

  I jumped up. “Celia?”

  He sat down on the chair next to Carter. “Doc said she has no bleeding in her brain. She might not remember anything.”

  I bounced on my feet. “Is she talking? Awake? Can I see her?”

  “Yeah. Her mom said to go in. She had to run home and get Celia some things. She’ll be in for a few days. They want to watch her closely since her concussion is bad.”

  I bolted out the door and ran right into someone. It took me a second to get my bearings, and when I did, I cried, “Maiken!” I threw myself at him. “How come you didn’t call me back or answer any more of my texts?” I sounded like a crazy teenager with off-the-chart hormones.

  He gave me one of his slow, easy grins as his blue gaze drank me in.

  Holy moly! I had to look like death. Then I remembered I was wearing my sleep shorts and matching T-shirt with llamas on them. My hair probably looked like I’d been in an F5 tornado. And hygiene? Yikes! Even though I’d taken a quick shower last night, I hadn’t brushed my teeth yet. And my upper lip was swollen like I’d gotten a heavy dose of Botox.

  I edged away, like far away. “I’m going to see Celia. Will you be here for a while?”

  He peeked into the waiting room. “Can we talk outside?”

  The hallway spun. “Sure. I guess. It can’t wait?” I got the feeling he’d been ignoring me after I’d sent my fifty texts. Okay, so I hadn’t really sent fifty, but any more than three was bordering on madness. Still, I got a sinking feeling that he was going to break up with me because of last night.