Finding the Magic (Tom Kelly's Boys Book 1)

by McMillin, Casey

  I gave him an offended look. "I thought it was okay to drink your coffee outside in Miami," I said.

  He sat by me and glanced at me with narrowed eyes. "I saw you looking through that fuckin' hole just now, and you can't be doing that."

  I got so nervous that I denied it even though he'd seen me, and that was ridiculous. "No I wasn't."

  He made a tisking noise and pointed toward the wall with his thumb. "You don't want to mess with those motherfuckers," he said. "The sonna va bitch who owns that house is a fuckin' pirate—and I'm not talking about Pirates of the motherfuckin' Caribbean either."

  At first I was embarrassed to have been caught, but now I saw it as an opportunity to see what he knew. "Megan said you saw something that made you think that," I said.

  "Shiiiit."

  I smiled at how gangsta and dramatic he was, and he saw me smile out of the corner of his eye.

  "Don't be a little bitch. It's not fuckin' funny," he said. "Those motherfuckers will kill you without batting an eye. I saw them beat the shit out of a guy one time, so I found out who they were. The front of their house is around on Oleander. Supposedly they have some furniture business and another fishing business that is a front for their boats."

  "I thought you said they weren't like Pirates of the Caribbean."

  "They're not. But they still use boats. Otherwise they wouldn't be called pirates, they'd be called motherfuckin' mafia or something. I don't even know. They're ruthless."

  "And you gather all this from a fight you saw in their backyard?"

  "Not just that. My friend Alex knows someone who knows one of them and he said Captain Tom, the guy who owns the house, cut a guy's head off one time in a fight, then he kept the skull and brings it wherever he's doing business so that everyone can see what happens when you fight with him."

  I laughed out loud at how wide-eyed and freaked out he was.

  "Go ahead and laugh," he said. "I'm just warning you that you might see some shit you don't want to motherfuckin' see if you look through that hole."

  We were both quiet for a second before he continued. "My sister probably showed it to you so you could look at the guys, but she has no idea who she's messing with. Just listen to me when I say you would not like the results if they found out you was spying on them."

  "Is Captain Tom in his twenties with long, blondish hair?" I asked, still curious.

  He cut me a glance like I was crazy. "No," he said. "Those are his sons. There are two of them. They used to look just alike till one of them shaved his head; now I can tell them apart. Captain Tom is the older one—he's their dad. There are other guys in and out of there all the time." He cut his eyes at me and smiled. "And girls too."

  "You just told me not to look over there. It sounds like you look over there all the time."

  "That's because I know what I'm doing, and I got a fuckin' Glock strapped on just in case."

  I laughed. "You do not have a gun. Do you?"

  "No, but I know how to look through the crack without getting caught. Y'all bitches are too emotional. You gonna make too much noise and get yourselves caught."

  "No I'm not," I said, challenging him. He was so full of hot air. There was no reason he should be allowed to spy on them and none of the rest of us could. "Well, this happens to be a fun distraction for me, so you're gonna have to just share." I crossed my arms indignantly and he looked at me smiling.

  "It's Drake you're looking for—the guy with long hair."

  "I'm not looking for him particularly, I just thought it was intriguing when Megan told me you said they were pirates."

  "Megan just wanted you to see the guys. She doesn’t even fuckin' believe me that they're pirates."

  "I believe you," I said wistfully. I held my mug and stared straight ahead. "I wish there was a way we could make that hole bigger."

  Steven made a noise of disapproval and shook his head at me. "See? That's exactly why you don't need to be back here. Didn't you just hear what I said? They'd kill you if they found out you were watching them."

  He had said that before, but for some reason it was just sinking in. "Do you think they'd seriously try to hurt us if they knew we could see into their yard?"

  "Well, it depends on what we fuckin' see, duddent it?"

  "They're never gonna notice," I said. I pointed at the hole. It was almost imperceptible in the huge, stone wall, and looked to be even smaller on the other side.

  "Yeah, but you can't be doing shit like trying to make it bigger."

  I just sat there, knowing he was right. "Did you say his name is Drake?"

  "Yeah. Kelly"

  "Huh?"

  "Drake Kelly. That's his name. His dad's Tom Kelly, the pirate. I'm telling you the truth. That's for fuckin' real over there. He was named for Sir Francis Drake. England saw him as a hero, but the Spaniards knew him for the bloodthirsty pirate he was."

  "Which one was he named for," I asked, "the hero or the villain?"

  He cut his eyes at me as if I must be playing dumb on purpose. "The pirate, obviously. The villain."

  "How do you know all this? You sound like you did a report on him or something."

  "My friend Alex knows someone who's told him stories of first hand accounts. It was someone who'd seen all this stuff with his own two fuckin' eyes, and he told Alex and them some of it—like the way he carries around that skull."

  "That's so weird," I said.

  We sat in silence for a few seconds. "You have to wonder how he went about, you know, cleaning it."

  "You mean getting the fuckin' brains and shit out?"

  I cringed, but nodded. "Yeah." A big smile crossed my face, and he glanced over at me.

  "You think it's funny, cutting heads off and carrying them around with you?"

  "No," I said defensively. "I was smiling at something else, and you don't even know that story is true."

  "Yes I do, and what were you smiling at?"

  "I was just thinking that it's been a while since I had something to take my mind off… " I hesitated. "Did your sister tell you about—"

  "That you're not playing piano anymore?"

  "Yeah. It was a big, on stage catastrophe—a nightmare. I've sort of had a hard time forgetting about it." I shrugged. "Anyway, it's just nice to get my mind off of it, and shirtless pirates have been a nice distraction."

  Steven smiled at me, and I could tell he cared about me and hated that I'd been having a hard time, but didn't know what to say.

  I smiled back at him. "So does this mean you're not gonna get mad at me for looking through there, because I pretty much want to do it again, like immediately."

  He rolled his eyes at me and sighed dramatically. "I don't care what you do, but don't come crying to me when they tie you up and throw you to the bottom of the motherfuckin' ocean."

  I giggled. "Oh that's a nice thought Steven. Thank you for that."

  He shrugged and smiled. "I'm just sayin'."

  We sat there for a few seconds. I was waiting for him to leave so I could peek through the hole again but he didn't make any moves.

  "You're in luck if it's Drake you like. I think that's the one my sister likes too."

  I felt an unexplainable stab of jealousy, but I ignored it. "Why's that lucky?" I asked, not mentioning the part about Megan and her apparent crush on the beautiful surfer.

  "Because he's the one who builds furniture. Alex's friend was telling him about how he's really talented and makes this custom wood furniture—tables and chairs and shit. Anyway, he must work at the house because he goes outside at different, regular times of the day like clockwork. He must be taking breaks."

  My head popped up. "You know what times he comes outside?"

  Steven smiled at my eagerness. "Just on weekdays. Weekends are always different and all sorts of crazy characters come and go back there."

  "It's Friday," I said.

  "Yeah, so?"

  "So what time's he coming out?"

  "What time is it?" he asked.


  "Eleven thirty or so."

  "He'll come out sometime in the next hour, and he'll stay for thirty minutes. He eats lunch by the pool as long as it's nice outside."

  "It's crazy that you know this."

  Steven shrugged. "I like to be aware of my surroundings."

  "So is that one not a pirate?" I asked. "The one with the long hair? The way you're talking, it sounds like he just sits over there and builds furniture."

  "They're all fuckin' pirates. He might not go out on the boat, but he's a fuckin' gangsta, make no mistake about that. He's the one I saw kicking someone's ass that day."

  "So, he's like their on-land representative slash furniture builder," I said.

  "You're gonna think it's really cute until you see some shit go down."

  "How often do you come out here?" I asked.

  "Not much anymore since my friends started getting cars and shit." He paused, put a finger in the air, and cocked his head to the side. "Hold up, be quiet."

  I got really still, waiting to see what he was doing. I figured it was something to do with the neighbors, and I instantly got excited and nervous.

  "I know the sound of that sliding glass door even though you can barely hear it. I'm not sure if it was that I heard, but you can check if you want."

  I didn't hesitate to go to the hole in the wall. He watched me as I bent down to take a look. I blinked several times, trying to focus past the shrubs and into the open pool area. It took me a second to catch some movement just to the left of the backdoor. It was the lovely, longhaired hunk, who was also apparently very good with his hands.

  He was by a mile the most gorgeous specimen I'd ever seen, and New York had some gorgeous men. I wondered if the distance and the fact that my view was so obstructed somehow added to his appearance, or if he could possibly be as hot up close as he looked from here. I sat up and looked at Steven.

  "I'm gonna need your help," I said.

  "With what? Is he out there?"

  "Yes, and that's what I need help with."

  He gestured for me to continue.

  "I'm gonna infiltrate."

  Chapter 6

  "What the hell does that mean?"

  "Infiltrate. You know, like go in under cover. I want to get a closer look."

  "You are fuckin' crazy," Steven said, shaking his head at me and looking down at me in disapproval.

  "Oh, come on," I said, "they're not untouchable. You said it yourself that they had people in and out of there on the weekends. Surely there's some way I could get in."

  Then it came to me.

  I gave Steven a look of triumph. "I'll just go try to buy some furniture from them. You said it's an actual business, right?"

  "I mean, yeah, that's the whole point of it being a cover is that it's an actual business, but I don't know the name of it."

  "Can you ask your friend Alex?"

  "You're gonna get your ass shot."

  "No I won't. All I want is some custom furniture."

  "Oh really, the furniture we have in there isn't satisfactory for you?"

  "Well, he doesn't have to know that, now does he? What's the harm in having a little custom table or footstool or something if a girl wants to get a closer look?"

  "A footstool? You're fuckin' crazy."

  "So you'll help me?" I asked, blinking and giving him my best puppy dog eyes.

  "Help you with what?"

  "I don’t know. I might have some questions or need your advice. To start, I need you to ask your friend the name of the furniture business." Steven just gave an almost imperceptible head nod, and I had no idea what he was thinking or if he was gonna help me or not.

  "Can you text him real quick and ask him the name for me?" I asked.

  "You mean right now?"

  "Why not?"

  He gave me a reproachful glare, but dug his phone from the pocket of his saggy athletic shorts. "I'll text him, but I still don't think it's a good idea for you to go messing around with those guys," he said.

  "I thought you'd think it was really thug-like of me. I thought you'd be proud."

  "I'm not trying to see you get capped."

  "I'm not exactly sure what that means, but it sounds like I'm not trying for it to happen either. I'm just relieved to have something else to think about and I want to get a closer look, that's all. I'm curious."

  He sighed, and then tapped out a text that I hoped and assumed was to Alex.

  I took the opportunity to look through the hole again. The beautiful stranger was standing near the pool holding a bowl in one hand and shoveling food into his mouth with the other.

  Before this moment, I would have told you it's impossible to look sexy while eating, but freakin-a, this guy was an absolute sight to behold. I just had to see him up close.

  "Did he text you back?" I whispered.

  "Not yet," he said. "Don't get your hopes up that I'll hear from him right away."

  "Well can you just text me and let me know what you find out?" I asked. Again, I leaned down to get a look through the hole. He had set down the bowl and was standing by the pool. He lifted his arms over his head and stretched upward. The muscles of his chest and arms rippled and flexed and I pulled back from the hole. The sight was so tempting that I instinctually knew I was doing a bad thing by looking at it. Then, I immediately realized how stupid that was, and looked through the hole again. He was still stretching, but doing a different one where he pulled one arm to the side. I blinked and tried to stay focused on him so I could remember what he looked like after he went back inside.

  "What other times does he come out?" I asked. "You said you knew his schedule on weekdays."

  "He's usually out here for lunch and then again sometime around dinner. Anywhere from five to eight. And then again sometimes at night. He's out there a lot. He lives in that house and works there. The others are just in and out of there at different times."

  "I'll bet I could just go around to the front of the house and knock if he's there all the time."

  "It's not like that," he said. "The houses around on the other side are nicer than the ones over here. I've been by the front of their place and it's gated. You can't just drive up their fuckin' driveway, and even if you could, I wouldn't recommend it."

  "You said that already."

  He put his hands up in surrender. "I'm just sayin'."

  We both heard the noise of his phone vibrating in his pocket, and I gave him an expectant glance waiting for him to take it out and see what Alex said. He did as I hoped he'd do. He took it out and focused on it for a few seconds.

  "He said he thinks it's Drake Custom Furniture or Kelly Custom Furniture—something with his name." Steven started tapping out a text, looking frustrated. "Now I have him asking questions about, why did I want to know and shit."

  "I'm sorry, just tell him I wanted to know if you want."

  "You can't be getting all brave and stupid like that, Addison," he said. I gave him an offended glare. "Seriously," he said sweetly. He looked at me and I could see through the tough guy demeanor that he was genuinely concerned. "Just promise me you'll be careful."

  "I will," I promised. I meant it. I'd always been the cautious type, and intended to continue being that way. It was out of character for me to even consider going over there, but at least I wasn't thinking about London.

  It wasn't long before Drake went back inside. Steven and I followed suit—he went into the main house and I went into the guesthouse. I'd been outside for a while, and I wondered if Megan would be awake. I knew before I even opened the door that she was. The windows had shutter style blinds on the inside, and I had left them closed when I walked out a little while ago. They were now open, and I considered my options for what I'd tell Megan about where I'd been. I quickly decided that I had to tell the truth since her brother knew everything and would likely tell her if it ever came up.

  "Hey, I thought you were still sleeping," she said as I came in the door.

  "I've been up
for a while," I said. "I already got a couple of boxes unpacked."

  "Oh cause, I've been up for about thirty minutes and—"

  "I went outside to have my coffee and try to see the pirates. Do you like him or something? Steven mentioned you liking him."

  She looked at me, utterly confused. Okay, so maybe I was nervous and rambling a little. I decided to start over.

  "This morning, for the first time in months, I woke up thinking about something besides Rachmaninoff, and it happened to be the family of hot pirates that lives back there. So I went to look again. Anyway, Steven came out there and was telling me some more about them and he said you liked the one with the long hair or whatever." I said it like she'd probably think it was a ridiculous idea since that's how I wanted her to respond.

  Megan was still trying to process everything I was saying, but smiled when it sank in. "So, you've been back there spying?" she asked, smirking at me.

  I looked down shyly and started walking toward the kitchen so I could put my mug in the dishwasher.

  "Did you catch him having lunch?" she asked.

  I was actually jealous that she knew his schedule, but I'd never say that. "I never thought eating a bowl of food could look so good," I said, giggling. "And don't worry about it if he did some poolside stretching."

  She let out a loud laugh at the thought. "Oh God, I can only imagine," she said. "You might need to go take a cold shower right now, if you know what I mean."

  I was about to make myself a sandwich, but I stopped and looked at her. The things she and her brother were saying about Drake led me to believe that she might have a thing for him, and I had to find out for sure. "Do you like him?" I asked.

  She cocked her head in that same perplexed way she'd been doing since I brought up the subject. She seemed so surprised that I'd be talking about them, and I couldn't understand why. "I mean, yeah, I like how they look, but I don't really know what you're asking. Are you asking if I'm trying to go over there and hook up with them?"

  "Yes!" I said, so thankful that she finally seemed to get it.