Give Me Hell

by Kate McCarthy

  Jake picks up where Elijah left off and once again I’m being spun about the room. He moves stiffly at first, holding himself like a tightly wound coil. I rack my brain, and for the life of me I can’t recall what I’ve done this time to rile his temper. “What’s up your ass?” I snap.

  He doesn’t hesitate with his answer. “You.”

  My nostrils flare. “Why?”

  We twirl past my dancing parents, and I scowl at them. Why are they doing the electric boogaloo to a slow dance song? I make a mental note to question Jared about them doing weed in the bathroom. I saw Meryl Streep in It’s Complicated. Parents get up to some crazy shit when they think their kids aren’t watching.

  “Why?” Jake repeats. “Because you’re beautiful.”

  The compliment is delivered with a furrowed brow and a growly tone. I don’t know whether to accept it with grace or abandon him on the dance floor. “And that pisses you off?”

  “Yes. Every male in this room has monopolised your dance card. The only one you haven’t danced with yet is me.”

  “Well, we’re dancing now.”

  Jake’s palms move lower on my hips pulling me closer. “And I like it.”

  Without warning, he pushes me outward and twirls me under his arm. Jake has moves and this particular one, he executes effortlessly. Unfortunately, I’m wearing my elephant dress and stumble; the heel catches inside the hem halfway through the turn. I hear a rip as it snags the delicate fabric. There’s nothing I can do to halt my momentum. I’m going down. Damn dress, is all I can think as I begin a slow-motion descent to the floor. It’s not designed for physical activity.

  Jake recovers and jerks me upright before I take a header across the dance floor. My chest slams into his and the breath leaves my lungs.

  “My bad,” he says, a grin crinkling the corners of his eyes as he takes the blame for what is so clearly my fault. With our bodies now mashed together, there’s no mistaking the press of something incredibly hard against my belly. Frankly, it’s a surprise I can feel anything at all, what with all the layers, but this … this is unmistakeable. Jake is hard and he’s not even trying to hide it.

  Jake crouches down to help de-snag my heel. His hands find their way beneath my dress. A warm palm wraps around my ankle. Jake lifts it and my hands fall on his shoulders to steady myself.

  I’m dumbfounded and stare at the top of his bent head as he carefully unhooks the torn ruffle from the sharp heel of my shoe.

  What new kind of fuckery is this? Sweet, gentlemanly behaviour isn’t Jake’s usual arsenal of choice. It has my heart thumping against my ribs and my defences scrambling.

  Jake re-settles the skirts and stands. Taking note of my stunned expression, he tucks a hand underneath my chin and tilts my head until our eyes meet. “You okay, Princess?”

  “I’m okay,” I reply, smoothing a rogue curl that escaped my whimsical up-do. “Though you’re a shit dancer, Romero,” I advise, my lips twitching as we once again begin to dance. “Maybe you might benefit from some lessons.”

  His laughter rings out and draws the attention of every breathing female in the room. “Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll take that under advisement.”

  “You do that,” I murmur, my pulse rate increasing at the endearment.

  “So …”

  “So?” I prompt.

  “I have a plan.”

  I nod. “Well, good for you.”

  Jake rolls his eyes. “And I need your help.”

  My interest is piqued. He knows it too. “Oh?”

  Thirty minutes later we’re in the back parking lot. Jake holds my hand tightly in his. He’s holding a suitcase in the other as we run toward a white vintage car. It’s a dark night and the outside lights are dim, but there’s no mistaking it as the wedding car. It’s decorated in shaving cream, condoms, and streamers. It’s downright tacky and screams of Frog and Cooper’s handiwork. Clearly they were out here earlier, up to their own brand of mischief.

  Hair comes loose from my pins as we run. I hold the back of it and spare a quick glance behind me. There’s no one around to see what we’re up to.

  “Have you got the keys?”

  “In my pocket,” Jake replies.

  We arrive at the car. He lets go of my hand and slides the key in, popping open the boot. It lifts with ease and reveals Jared and Evie’s suitcases. They’re packed and ready to leave, heading to the airport direct from the reception for their honeymoon destination.

  Jake pulls Jared’s suitcase out and replaces it with the identical one he’s carrying with him.

  “This is so bad,” I say with more than a little glee.

  “Too much you think?” Jake asks, amusement glittering in his eyes.

  “There’s no such thing as too much when it comes to my brothers.” My gaze falls to the replacement suitcase inside the boot. “Show me.”

  Jake chuckles as he reaches in and unzips his way around the bag. He lifts the flap, and I burst out laughing.

  “Shush,” he says with force and takes a furtive glance left and right.

  “Whose idea was this?” I ask, eyeing the contents inside the suitcase. My brother is heading to Thailand for an entire week with nothing but G-strings. They’re bright and come in all the colours of the rainbow. Some have images—pineapples, bananas, jellybeans—and some have animal print. There’s even one with the words Badass Brigade printed on the front.

  “It was my idea,” he replies.

  “You’re evil.”

  Jake cocks a brow, his expression downright devilish. “I know.”

  “I like it.”

  “I know that too,” he says with a smirk as he locks the boot and pockets the keys. It’s a simple matter of placing Jared’s real suitcase in the boot of the Subaru that Travis owns. All we have left to do now is replace the stolen car keys before anyone notices them missing.

  “Jared is going to kill us,” I announce as we stroll back to the reception, taking our time now that the mischievous deed is done.

  Jake takes my hand in his and threads our fingers together. He shrugs. “Probably.”

  “You don’t seem scared.”

  He squeezes my hand and grins in the dark. “I can take him.”

  I return his grin. “I have no doubt.”

  “Do you think he’ll realise it’s us who did it anyway?”

  “Of course,” I reply, pointing at the security camera trained on the back parking lot. It’s likely tracking our every move. I blow it a kiss and give a little wave. “The first thing my brother will do when he returns is check the security footage. Be prepared for payback, Jake. When it comes, and it will come, it’s going to be big.”

  “Unless we delete the tapes before he sees them.”

  I arch a brow. “Where’s the fun in that?”

  “You want him to know it was us?”

  “Of course. That was an epic prank. We should get credit for it.”

  Jake lets go of my hand when we step inside. The loss of contact leaves me bereft. His glance at me is wistful. Does he feel the loss like I do?

  There’s a gathering around the cake table. As we make our way toward it, Henry materialises at my side and looks between the both of us. “Where were you two?”

  I widen my eyes and give Henry the speech we rehearsed when we plotted the execution of our prank. “We were in the kitchen making sure there was enough champagne for the toasts.”

  Henry’s gaze narrows with suspicion. “That’s funny, because I looked for you both in the kitchen, Mac, and neither you nor Jake were in there.”

  “You were looking for us?”

  “Evie wanted the both of you here for the cutting of the cake.”

  “You must have just missed us,” Jake interjects smoothly and as if on cue, waiters emerge en masse from the kitchen bearing trays of freshly poured champagne.

  “Must have,” Henry mutters, not sounding like he believes us in the least.

  A waiter passes by and Jake plucks two glasses from t
he tray then hands one to me. “Thanks, Romero.”

  “Anytime, Valentine.”

  I hide the twitching of my lips by taking a sip of champagne, and we turn to face the bridal couple. Evie and Jared have the knife to the cake and slide it downward. Camera’s flash from all directions and they look up, smiling. My brother is definitely happier than he has been in a long time. “Oh yeah,” I mutter to Jake. “He’s definitely going to kill us.”

  “You worried, Princess?”

  “Not at all. We’ll go down fighting.”

  Jake nudges my shoulder and gives me a wink. “Together.”

  The smile I gave him is puny at best because there is no together. Hell will freeze over before Jake puts his pride aside and agrees to me working in any type of dangerous situation with Jamieson & Valentine Consulting.

  I can’t see my brothers agreeing either, but it’s not about agreement. If it were, I’d have asked to join the team already and been given a flat ‘no.’ It’s why I have to show them instead. Actions speak louder than words.

  So I’ve decided I need a case of my own. One I can work on without interference. My plan is to visit Tim at the office. There’s a tray on his desk that contains files of new casework. Unless it’s marked urgent, they’re handed out on Tuesday mornings at the weekly staff meetings. I’ll need to visit on a Monday.

  “What are you up to, Mackenzie?”

  I jump a mile in the air. When my heart rate recovers, I turn and face my father. The wedding is a black tie affair, and he looks like a distinguished Robert Redford in his sharp suit and glass of scotch in hand.

  Dad takes my empty glass. He places it on the tray of a passing waiter and picks up a full one.

  “What am I up to?” I repeat as I take the offered champagne. “Nothing, why?”

  “You think I don’t recognise the look on your face? You’re my little girl. You’ve been scheming and hatching plots since the dawn of time. And here you are, up to mischief at your brother’s wedding no less.” He turns to Jake. “Romero. Good to see you as always.”

  Dad’s tone indicates it isn’t good to see him at all. Their relationship is a strained one. My father likes to blame Jake for my failure to attend FDH. Jake likes to act as though it doesn’t bother him. He straightens his shoulders beneath the weight of my father’s stare. “You too, sir.”

  “Are you keeping my daughter out of trouble?”

  My fingers tighten on the stem of my glass.

  “No offense, sir, but it’s not up to me to keep Mac out of trouble. Though, I guarantee if she was, I’d be right there doing whatever I could to help.”

  My father takes a sip of scotch and contemplates Jake over the rim of his glass. “If she was in any trouble, the first thing I’d hope you do is tell me.”

  “I’m standing right here,” I snap. “And I’m not in any trouble.”

  “Sir, she’s not in any trouble.”

  “But she always manages to find herself in the thick of it…” Dad looks at me “…don’t you, sweetheart?”

  The words are delivered as if I’m the family joke. My skin prickles with anger. My brothers are trusted to take care of themselves. Why does he never trust me? I lift my chin, hiding the hurt. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad.”

  I shove my glass at him. He takes it, his expression one of surprise as I stride off.

  MAC

  The hurt still smarts weeks later, but I have to push it aside. On top of our current hectic schedule, we’ve been in final preparations for an awards ceremony. Jamieson has been invited to play. We accepted, but of course the path to true success never runs smoothly. Life always manages to plant a hurdle the size of Mt. Everest in your path just to piss you off and make everything difficult.

  In this instance, my hurdle is Frog.

  “Please tell me you’re joking,” I say into the phone. Panic tinges the edges of my voice.

  “I’m not,” my doped-up sounding bassist replies.

  I’m at Evie’s house for a barbeque. It’s supposed to be a relaxed affair with the band and my family. A celebration of Jared and Evie finally finishing up renovations on their money pit. The pool has been installed. The gardens are done. Life is supposed to be good. And Frog and Cooper are supposed to be here. But they aren’t. Frog has just finished informing me he’s managed to break his arm and is now at the hospital with Cooper.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I am so fiiiiiiiiiine,” he slurs.

  “And your arm?”

  “My arm is so fiiiiiiiiiine.”

  My lips pinch. Frog is currently high on heavy pain medication and now we’re short a bassist. The awards are tonight. “How could you do this?”

  “Don’t be mean, Macky Wacky,” he says, sounding hurt.

  “I’m not being mean,” I hiss into the phone as my mind runs at a million miles an hour. The exposure for Jamieson tonight is huge. It’s going to be televised to millions of people. We can’t back out, which means we need a replacement bassist. We need—

  “Give me that,” Jake says, cutting off my scrambling thoughts. He snatches my phone and takes control of the call, leaving me to pace the carpeted floor of Evie’s bedroom.

  It’s a beautiful room decorated in Hampton’s style with lots of white. It’s my favourite space in their entire house, but it fails to soothe me right now, especially when my eyes fall on Evie. She’s just emerged from the ensuite bathroom. Her face is green and her long, voluminous locks hang lank around her face. She looks like a bedraggled kitten emerging indoors after being caught in a thunderstorm.

  I pause my pacing and point at her. “No. Just … no.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice is a rasp.

  “Oh my god, why does everyone have to be an asshole today?” I cry. “I don’t have time for this.”

  Evie lips press flat as if she’s trying to hide a smile. I’m gobsmacked at her nerve. My brilliant bassist is in the hospital with a broken arm, and my lead singer has a voice like sandpaper. How can she find this amusing? My temper steps up a notch. “This is funny to you?”

  “No!” Her smile blooms, and she places a palm against her belly. “I think … I’m pregnant.”

  I stop breathing. My feet freeze to the floor, and my heart begins thumping a wild, jagged beat. This is what I wanted. What I’ve been hoping for. So why does it hurt?

  Jake ends the call with Frog and hangs up my phone. His body is stiff as he carefully sets it on the bedside table. Does it feel like this for him too? This stabbing pain of loss?

  “You …” I try to form words. To say something. Anything.

  Evie’s lips curve. “Aunty Mac.”

  I force my legs to move. One step in front of the other, they walk me toward my best friend. My arms wrap around her, and I pull her in for a hug. “Congratulations, Sandwich. I’m so happy for you.”

  “I’m happy too.” She squeezes me tightly in return, whispering, “But I’m scared.”

  Her words send a pang directly to my heart. I’d been scared once too. “Don’t be scared. You’ve got this, okay? And you’ve got us.”

  “Good, because I can’t do this without you.”

  My phone rings again. I squeeze her back and step away.

  “It’s the venue,” Henry says, handing me the phone as he steps in to give Evie a hug.

  “Excuse me,” I mutter and leave the room, jogging down the stairs with the ringing phone. Jared is walking out of the kitchen as I reach the bottom step. My brother is going to be a daddy. I want to be happy for him. But not right now. Jared needs to get away from me before I fall apart.

  “Mac, can you—”

  “Not now,” I snap as I charge toward the downstairs bathroom.

  I press the red button on my phone, ending the call without answering it as I slam the door behind me. Setting the device on the vanity counter, I stare at myself in the mirror and touch a hand to my cheek. My makeup is immaculate and my straightened hair hangs in a perfect sheet down my back. The
surface shows no scars, but the hurt is bubbling up inside like a throbbing volcano. I feel it rising, hot and thick. I keep swallowing it down but it won’t be stopped.

  The door opens swiftly.

  I spin around.

  Jake stands there, jaw trembling, silent. He knows the scars are there. He sees the pain. He feels it too.

  My eyes fill as he steps inside the room and shuts the door behind him. The next minute I’m folded in his arms and the last of my control, having held strong for too many years, finally snaps. A sob rips from my chest. The broken sound echoes through the small space. My entire body trembles and his arms lock tighter, holding me against his chest as we sink to the floor.

  “Jake,” I sob.

  JAKE

  A sick feeling lodges in my gut when Evie gives the news. Our friend has something we both lost and the pain of it is raw. A wave of it crosses Mac’s face as she stands frozen to the ground. It’s overwhelming and unexpected, and she can’t hide it.

  Oh, baby.

  My heart breaks when she rushes from the room. I follow behind, knowing I can congratulate my friend later. Right now, it’s Mac who has my attention. Mac who needs me.

  “I’m here. It’s okay,” I whisper, my arms holding her close inside the quiet of the bathroom. My hands rub up and down her back as we sit in a huddle on the floor.

  “It’s not,” she sobs, her fingers digging into my skin.

  “It is okay. It’s okay to be upset.”

  “It’s not okay to be upset. My best friend is up there, and I should be up there with her, celebrating, but I’m down here crying like a stupid girl.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but you are a girl.”

  A laugh escapes through the tears, and Mac pulls back a little, wiping at her face. It turns out my girl is not a pretty crier. Her eyes are swollen and red, and a river of mascara tracks down her cheeks, but there’s honest emotion on her face and it’s beautiful. Even like this, my heart bleeds for her and swells with love, all at once. Her strength floors me, but her vulnerability is something I would kill to protect.

  “Lucky for you, then. If I was a guy you wouldn’t be able to fuck me, would you?”