TROUBLE, A New Adult Romance Novel (The Rebel Series)

by Elle Casey

  “Gentry residence, Barbara speaking.”

  “Hello, Barbara. Are you the Barbara who wears the blue headband when she grocery shops?” I feel like a spy, talking in code. Luckily, Barbara doesn’t hang up on me for being a total weirdo.

  “Yes.” Her voice is very soft. I can barely hear it. “Is this the beautiful girl I met that one day in the baby food aisle?”

  “Maaaybe …” I don’t consider myself beautiful, but Charity certainly is. I don’t want there to be any confusion. I’m trying to think of a delicate way to ask which girl she’s talking about, but Barbara beats me to the punch.

  “I met two girls there. I left a note for the second one. The one interested in … adoption.”

  I grin like crazy. “Yeah, that’s my friend. She just tried to call you herself, but she kind of froze up.”

  “I thought that might be the case.” Barbara’s voice is back to normal now, although she still sounds a little nervous. “Thank you for calling back.”

  “I just want to help if I can.”

  An awkward silence ensues. Charity stares at me, her fear palpable. I reach over and pat her shoulder, trying to ease her mind.

  “Would she like to meet?” Barbara asks.

  “That’s a great idea. At your house,” I say.

  “Oh … are you sure? Wouldn’t you rather … meet somewhere else?”

  I shake my head, doing my best to channel Quin’s extraordinary powers of bossiness. “Nope. Your house would be fine.” I’m being pushy, but I don’t care. Charity’s baby is almost at her knees, her belly is hanging so low. She could have this puppy any minute. Time’s a-wastin’.

  “Oh … okay … um … you could come here, I suppose. When?”

  “How about right now?” I’m getting excited. My heart is racing and my mouth is going dry. I feel like I’m challenging her, testing her. I pray silently that she meets the challenge.

  “My husband isn’t home, but I guess we could meet with him another time.” She pauses. “Okay, she could come over now. Or you both could. But … I mean … maybe we should discuss some … things, first.”

  “Things? Like what things?” She’s obviously uncomfortable about something, but I have no idea what it is, other than maybe two strange girls with big giant bellies wanting to come to her house.

  “I hate to bring this up, but I just want to be sure that we’re all of the same understanding.”

  “Sure. Go ahead. Say whatever you want.”

  “Okay. I just wanted to say that I … want to adopt a baby, not purchase a baby.”

  “What?” I don’t get what she’s saying at first, but then it hits me. “Are you talking about …”

  She jumps to explain. “I don’t mean to insult anyone! I just … I’ve read horror stories. My friends are always warning me. I just … I’ve been looking for a long time and I’ve had some bad things happen. My husband has put his foot down and told me to stop looking. I guess I’m just afraid to hope anymore.” She begins to cry softly and it melts my heart on the spot.

  “Don’t worry. We’re not scammers. I can vouch for Charity, and even though you don’t know me, I’m still going to say you can trust me. Give me your address and you can find out for yourself.”

  I hang up the phone a minute later, the address written on the note that Charity took from the grocery store.

  “You ready to go do this?” I ask, getting to my feet.

  “I guess I better be,” she says, breathless but looking hopeful.

  “Come on,” I say, grabbing my purse off the back of the chair. “Let’s go do this before we lose our nerve.”

  Charity stands and puts her hand on my arm. “No. I’ll go. Alone.”

  “Alone?” I frown at her, confused. “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “You’re not going to go, are you?” My shoulders sag. I’m so disappointed, I can’t keep it out of my voice. And here I thought I’d done so well. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed so much. Damn you, Quin! Get out of my brain!

  “No, I am, I promise.” She’s chipper and her tone makes me believe she’s telling me the truth. “I wouldn’t do that, just not show up like that for something so important. I just … I don’t want to go there and overwhelm her. I mean, you and I make quite the intimidating picture, you know? She kind of spooked-out at the grocery store. Maybe she’s better just one-on-one.”

  I nod. “Okay, if that’s what you want to do.” I put my purse back. “Will you call me when it’s over?”

  “Of course.” She leans in and hugs me. “Thank you so much. You’re a true friend.”

  I pat her back and then pull away. “Just call me if you change your mind or need anything else.”

  “I will.” She squeezes my arm gently and then leaves. I walk behind her and lock the door when she’s gone.

  Then I remember something really important and throw the door open. “Charity!” I yell.

  She turns around as she’s walking behind her car. “Yeah?”

  “Find out why she’s buying baby food when she doesn’t have a baby!”

  “Uhh … okay!”

  I wave and then go back into the house, shutting the door and locking it.

  Standing in the hallway, I look down the corridor and then at the stairs, mulling over my next move. I can either clean up my mess in the kitchen or take a nap.

  Just picturing my bed in my mind, I suddenly realize how exhausted I am, and choose the stairs. I can clean up later. Now I’m just going to celebrate the fact that I have both Colin’s and Charity’s lives on track, simply by making a few phone calls and listening to my conscience. For the first time in a long time, I feel like things are getting back to they way they should be.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  I’M IN A WEIRD, HALF-asleep almost drugged-out state when I hear the doorbell ring again. I crack one eye open and see that the sun is still up, but it’s lower in the sky now. I have no idea what time it is, but it must be getting close to dinner. Maybe. I sit up and rub my face a little to wake myself up so I can figure out what’s going on.

  The doorbell rings again.

  Getting out of bed is an effort. I’m dizzy from moving too fast, and I have to hold onto the doorframe for a few seconds before heading down the stairs.

  The doorbell rings again.

  “I’m coming!” I yell. And then I mutter, “Jeepers, keep your pants on.” If it’s Teagan or Quin I’m going to give them a piece of my mind. I’m pregnant; I need my sleep.

  I get to the door and put my hand on the lock. I start to open it as I lean towards the curtained side window and look out. As soon as I see who it is, my heart stops beating for a second and my hand freezes, halfway to unlocking the door.

  I can’t believe I almost just let him in. I re-lock the door and let my hand fall away, jerking back away from the window and hiding behind the door. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god … what’s he doing here?!

  “Alissa, I just saw you. Open the door. I want to talk to you for a second.”

  “Go away, Randy.” My voice is too high. He’ll know I’m afraid. “I don’t know why you’re here, but you can just leave.” Trying to maintain a steady, normal tone of voice instead of the freaked-out shriek that wants to leave my lungs takes supreme effort. Both of my hands are clenched into fists.

  “I just need to talk to you, it’s no big deal.” His voice goes lower, quieter … like it’s coming directly from my nightmares. “Open the door.”

  “No. Leave or I’m calling the police.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not doing anything illegal. I just want to talk to you.”

  I’ve annoyed him. I don’t have to open the door or look past the curtain to know what the expression on his face is. Distain. Supercilious, privileged, thinking he’s better than anyone around him. Randy has a very high opinion of himself, just like his best friend, Charlie. They are two awful peas in an even more awful pod.

  “Not interested.” I pray he’l
l take the not-so-subtle hints I’m sending and just leave. Teagan and Rebel will be home soon and I don’t want them involved in this, but even more, I don’t want to be involved in this. I just want him to disappear and never come back.

  “I saw that postcard with your picture on it. I called the gallery and got your address.”

  It takes a couple seconds for his statement and its meaning to sink in. And then a loud ringing starts in my ears. I can hear my own heartbeat, and it’s going way too fast. I wonder if it’s possible to have a heart attack or a stroke just from hearing bad news. If it is possible, I’m probably going to end up in the hospital tonight. This is too much. Too much.

  “I’ll bet you didn’t know our parents are art collectors, did you? Mine and Charlie’s. Probably because Charlie never introduced you to his family did he?”

  These words cut me like a knife, as we both know they are meant to.

  “Did you ever stop to ask yourself why that was, Alissa? Did it ever occur to you that you were out of your league when you were with him?”

  I have to swallow over and over again to keep the bile down. I’m very close to vomiting on the front hall floor, but I can’t leave. I’m afraid if I walk away, he’ll break in and come after me. I know what he’s capable of, and it’s frightening me almost as much as I’ve ever been scared in my life. Almost.

  “Just leave, Randy. It’s over between me and him, so you have nothing to worry about. He can go back to screwing your sister just like before.” I just said screwing, and I don’t care. Desperate times mean rules can go out the window. Besides, it’s not like Charlie ever made love to a woman before. He only knows how to screw, the bastard. Oh shit. I just said bastard. And shit! Everything is falling apart in my brain and around me.

  Tipping my head back and closing my eyes, I say a silent prayer at the ceiling. Dear God … I know you’ve put me in a time-out and you don’t have any interest in hearing my prayers right now, but just in case you have an angel who’s not too busy up there, could you send him my way? Because I’m afraid I’m about to be hurt right now, and I don’t want anything to happen to my baby.

  There’s a rumbling outside that manages to make its way into my bones. It sounds like there’s an earthquake happening and for a moment it makes me think God has answered my prayers by sending a natural disaster over to swallow up my enemies.

  My head snaps forward and I blink my eyes a few times. Throwing the curtains to the side, I can see what’s out on my front lawn and realize that it’s not a natural disaster that God has sent. Not exactly.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “HEY, BUDDY. CAN I HELP you with something?” Colin says, coming out of his big black car and walking up the pathway cut through the front lawn that leads to the porch. I can hear his raised voice through the closed and locked door. His swagger is unmistakable. It’s like he knows there’s a problem that needs to be dealt with, and he’s just the man to take care of it.

  “Just here to see a friend of mine,” Randy says, his menacing tone traded in for something a little more genial. His back is to the front door now, but he’s not moving away.

  I pull back from the window. My heart is going rapid-fire. I want Colin to run! To drive away! This is going to ruin everything! I’m afraid if I had a gun right now, I’d shoot Randy with it to keep him from opening his stupid, ugly mouth. I peek out of the curtains again.

  “Who’s your friend?” Colin asks. He comes up the three stairs to the porch and stops. His body language is neutral, but the power there is unmistakable. He’s got his regular low-waisted jeans on, a black t-shirt, and his hair is a mess. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he just got off a helmet-less motorcycle ride or maybe just rolled out of bed. He could not possibly be more sexy than he is right now. My knight in shining muscles. I cross my legs so I don’t pee myself.

  “Alissa,” Randy says. “You live here with her?”

  “Nope.” Colin doesn’t move. If anything, his chest bulges out just a fraction more than it already was. I never noticed quite how big his muscles are before this moment. They’re hugely huge. I think he’s been spending more time at the gym.

  “So who are you, then?” Randy asks.

  Colin shakes his head slowly, a small, humorless smile playing on his lips. Then he just stares at Randy. “Depends.”

  Randy scoffs, completely oblivious to the danger he’s facing right now. That’s one of Randy’s best qualities as far as I’m concerned; he’s always underestimating people. “Depends on what, dude?”

  “On who you are and why you’re here.” Colin’s voice is completely casual, but his threat is obviously not. “Because if you’re here to bother Alissa, and she doesn’t want to be bothered, well … you can just call me your worst nightmare.” He gestures out casually with both hands before letting them hang at his sides again, his arm and side muscles making it impossible for them to rest against his body without curving out. “But if you’re here for another reason, and Alissa’s cool with that, well, you can just call me Colin.”

  “I don’t appreciate your threat, Colin. What I have to talk to Alissa about is none of your business.”

  “Maybe not. Maybe it is. Depends on what she says.”

  Colin is still staring the guy down when he raises his voice and addresses me. “Alissa! This guy friend or foe?”

  My mouth drops open as I realize he knows I’m standing right here. There’s no way I’m going to be able to explain this away. I grip the curtain in panic.

  Friend or foe? Can I call Randy a friend and find a way to make this all go away? My ears burn with shame as I think about that stupid, stupid postcard. Why did that happen to me? What have I done that’s so wrong? Why is God punishing me like this?

  “I’m her friend, Randy. She was just letting me in.”

  The idea of him coming into the house spurs me into action. “Foe! He’s a foe, not a friend!” My voice comes out sounding like I’m a little unbalanced. Or maybe a lot unbalanced. And it’s possible I am at this moment. Hopefully, it isn’t permanent.

  “You heard what she said. Time for you to go. Randolph.”

  It’s clear what Colin thinks of my foe’s name.

  It’s also pretty obvious that Randy doesn’t appreciate the mockery. “Fuck you, man. I’m not going anywhere. I need to talk to her about something important, and she can hide from it all she wants, but it’s not going to go away until she hears what I have to say.”

  “Not today, you don’t.” Colin moves so quick I don’t really see it happen until it’s over. One second he’s there at the stairs, the next he’s not and a big bang comes from the door as bodies slam into it.

  I jump back, even though I know I’m safe inside.

  “Colin!” I scream, rushing to the side window when it connects in my brain that he’s pounding Randy’s head in. Just before I get there, an elbow comes crashing through the glass.

  I scream again and leap out of the way. My feet crunch on broken window pieces and a sharp pain slices up through my foot. “Ack! Gah!” I dance away on one foot, falling into the door. I slide over until I can see out the other side window.

  Colin is beating Randy’s butt out on the lawn. There’s blood all over Colin’s arm and Randy’s face. It’s not until I have to take a break to breathe that I realize I’m squealing like a piglet.

  “Colin, stop!” I yell. “Stop!” As much as I appreciate what he’s doing to Randy’s face right now, I don’t want him going to jail for me.

  I’m trying to figure out how I can stop the train wreck from getting worse when Randy gets to his feet and starts running. He’s tripping and falling across the lawn, but getting up again and again, digging in his pocket for his keys.

  Colin doesn’t pursue him. He waits on the grass, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, his shoulders moving up and down to accommodate his heavy breathing.

  Randy jumps in his car and takes off before he even gets his door shut. His BMW tires squeal on the
street, leaving two black streaks behind on the asphalt.

  I lean against the window and catch my breath. I cannot believe I haven’t peed or barfed yet. Turning my face sideways, I watch Colin to see what he’ll do next. My mind swirls with imaginings of our next conversation. He’s going to want an explanation. He might even deserve one. Geez, my foot stings.

  Once Randy is gone, Colin turns around and starts making his way back up the front walk. I look around in a panic, pushing away from the window. I want to run, to lock myself in my room and not come out until he’s gone.

  But instead I wait. He’s gotten hurt protecting me, and the very least I can do is tend to his injuries. And while I’m doing that, I’m going to try and figure out a way to tell him who Randy is without actually telling him anything at all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  I UNLOCK THE FRONT DOOR and swing it open for Colin. He barely looks at me as he walks through and down the hall, headed towards the kitchen. I glance outside before shutting the door and locking it behind him. When I turn around, he’s already out of sight.

  The chicken in me says I should run upstairs and lock myself into my room and feign sleep. But the girl who was just rescued in me says it’s time to face the music. I limp down the hallway and into the kitchen to find Colin at the sink with a dishtowel, wiping the blood off his elbow.

  “Let me help you with that,” I say, taking the rag away from him and staring at it with dismay. This one is headed to the trash after we’re done for sure.

  He lifts his elbow and angles it over the sink.

  Something sparkles on his skin. “Oh, no, there’s glass in your arm,” I say, feeling ten times worse than I already did. I look at his bland expression. “What do you want me to do? Should I take it out?”

  “Probably a good idea,” he says in an emotionless voice.

  I cringe at the idea, but use my fingernail nubs to squeeze out the few small pieces I can see easily. “Put your arm down in the water so we can wash it off better. There might be more.” I don’t see anything that needs to be stitched, but that could be because I’m a complete boob when it comes to injuries or anything medical. “Maybe you should go to the hospital.”