by Vicki Green
“Talk to me.”
Kane’s voice is alert, like he was waiting on my call. “She gave a statement, signing it in the morning. Dean has men out looking for him. I wanna kill the motherfucker,” I growl.
“We need a plan. Meet me tomorrow night at Pops. I’ll get the guys together. Fill Irish in and ask her to keep Taren busy. Irish won’t answer my calls or texts for some reason. Is Taren okay?” His voice is steady, sure.
“Yeah. Just worried and tired of all this shit, just like me.”
“I’m sure. Okay. See you tomorrow at work.” He hangs up and I quickly find Irish’s number.
“Is she okay? Do you need me to come over?” Her voice is fairly quiet and hard to hear over the racket at Pops.
“She’s okay, for now. We have a meeting at Pops tomorrow night. Can you come over and stay with Taren?” I’m waiting for the yelling I know that I s about to ensue.
“WHAT? I should be at the meeting. Seriously, Brock? What the fuck?” Her voice is loud in my ear, so much I have to pull the phone away until she’s done.
“Are you done yelling at me?” Silence, except the background noise. “Good. I need someone I can trust and do you really think if something happened her Mom or Mimi would be able to defend themselves or her?” I can hear her sigh. She knows I’m right. “So just plan on coming over, okay?” I hear her sigh again. She’s always been one that would be in the middle of any fight and can hold her own fairly well. We’ve never really had to look out for her. In fact, she’s walloped us a few times.
“Okay. I guess you’re right. This time.” I hear a bunch of voices. “Hold on to your boxers. I’ll be right there!” My smile overtakes me. Good ole Irish.
“Good. Now, what in the hell is with you and Kane? He says you won’t talk to him and you’ve ignored his texts. You all have a lovers quarrel?” I snicker to myself. Sometimes I crack myself up.
“None of your fucking business.”
And then the noise stops and I pull my phone away from my ear and see she’s hung up on me. What the hell? I don’t know what’s going on between them, but I’m sure I’ll find out. They’ve always fought like siblings, but this is taking it to a whole other level. I set my phone down on the counter and turn off the lights on my way to the bedroom, pulling off my shirt as I get to the door. When I open it, I see she’s already in bed, lights off, and fast asleep. Good. She has to be exhausted emotionally and physically. I remove my shoes and jeans quickly then climb into bed. She moves over in her sleep, cuddling up to me. Her arm moves over my waist as her head lays against my chest. I put my arm around her. She sighs but doesn’t open her eyes, her breathing still light and even. God, what I wouldn’t do to keep her safe, to take all the madness out of her life. I close my eyes and dream about her and finding that asshole and beating the shit outta him.
I’m up earlier than normal the next morning. I guess I’m antsy to get her to the station before I have to leave for work. I texted Kane and reminded him I’d be a little late. He was cool with it, of course. Everything anymore seems to make me anxious. I guess I’m feeling like she is. I just want this to be over. Dean’s team of guys are good, but it feels like that asshole may be a little slicker. I guess money can buy a lot of things, maybe even getting away with murder? It’s always been about money with him, with so many people. My life has been so much better. Granted it’s been hard at times but the love I’ve had, the closeness, and the support makes it a ton better. Maybe that’s the problem. No love in his life. Now, I kinda feel sorry for him. Just a little.
We don’t wait for breakfast. She tells me she’s not hungry anyway. I take her to the station and as Dean promised, the statement was ready for her to sign. She reads it quickly, and I watch her sign it. He tells me he’s had men out all night looking but nothing yet. I figured it wouldn’t be that easy. I take her home and kiss her goodbye, not wanting to go to work, not wanting to leave her alone. As I’m closing the front door, I wait until I hear the lock click then I about knock Irish over as I walk out the front door of the building. I grab her arms to steady us both, almost pushing her off the steps.
“Oh, sorry.” I move my hands from her arms when she looks at me with a sneer. “What the hell, Irish. What’s got your panties in a bunch anymore?”
“Nothing, okay?” She tries to move past me but I grab her arms again. She shakes herself free. Strong woman.
“Seriously. I get that this whole thing is a mess but you’ve been acting strange for a while now. What’s going on?” She looks around like everything around us is more interesting. “And what’s up with you and Kane? Did he do something?” Her eyes quickly snap to mine. “What did he do, Irish? I’ll kick his ass.”
“No! Um…. He didn’t do anything. I just….” She looks down at an invisible spot on the ground. Women! She’s acting so weird. Wait! What the hell?
I put my hand under her chin and lift her head then stare into her eyes. Her eyes lower. She can’t look at me. “Irish. Do you have a thing for Kane?” It all seems to fall into place. She never dates, never seems even mildly attracted to anyone but hangs on his every word, watching every movement. No way! We’ve been friends forever. Could she? Nah! Maybe? No Way! She’s always been like one of the guys. Maybe that’s where we’ve all been blind. She isn’t a guy. Not by any means. She’s beautiful, strong, willful, and has a killer body. I guess I’ve just never thought of in that way. “Oh, my God. You fucking like him. I mean, not just like him but, like him.” I smile, thinking I’ve just unlocked the secret to the world. Like I just found the meaning of life. “Shit. Does he know?” She tugs out of my grip roughly and pushes me, starting to open the door to the building. I turn and laugh. “Aw, come on, Irish. I won’t say nothin’.” She turns her head and growls then walks inside. Well, that went well. Now, do I say anything to Kane, let him know what’s been crawlin’ up her ass, or do I keep my promise and not say anything? This is gonna be a tough one.
Chapter Thirteen
Taren
“Your boyfriend is so…. infuriating!” is my greeting when Irish comes storming in the front door once I’ve unlocked it. She stomps her feet straight over to the coffee pot and pours herself a cup. She leans back against the counter and closes her eyes as she takes a drink.
“No coffee yet this morning?” I smile when her eyes open, stabbing mine with her stare. I slowly sit down at the table as she takes another sip. “Okay, bestie. What’s up so early in the morning? Or what’s not up might be the better question.” I tilt my head and raise an eyebrow. She gives me another mean look and stomps over to the table, practically throwing herself onto the chair. “Aww. It can’t be that bad.” Her eyes snap to mine and a frown graces her beautiful face. “Can it?”
She slams her back against the chair and sighs, loudly. “I’m just over it.” She looks at me, her face so sad. “Face it. Kane’s never gonna want me in that way. We’re like siblings and he’s out with a different woman every night, like musical women. Even if he did like me, like me, I wouldn’t want to go out with him anyway, just because of that. I mean, sheesh.” She starts twirling a bunch of strands of hair, hanging from her ponytail. “Right?” She’s asking me?
“Well, I dunno if I’m the right….”
“I mean. He’s like the whore of men. The king of man whores. Who needs that, right? Why have something so used when there are plenty of men in the sea. The ocean. Right?”
“Uh, yes. Well….”
She leans up and pats my arm then takes a big drink of coffee. “Thanks. I knew you’d help, bestie.” She gives me a huge smile.
My mouth turns into a little smile, and I nod, slightly. “Sure. Don’t mention it.”
There was no more talk of whores or men or salt water places. We sat around all day. Me, feeling like the sexiest babysitter was flipping through the TV channels and after many attempts and to my relief she finally settles on a good romantic comedy. Her, finally realizing that she and Kane wouldn’t work. I started feeling sad
for her. All these years she’d been holding out for him when she should have been dating, doing what normal teenage girls did by playing the field, having fun going out with different guys and seeing if there’s a chance with someone else out there. She looks at me as I bite my fingernail. “What’s wrong, babe?”
I look up and sigh. “I really need to go to the grocery store but I’m leery to go anywhere now. He’s out there somewhere, waiting.”
She gives me her devious smile. “I got your back. Come on, girl.” She stands, and I run and collect my purse and then follow her out the door. Yeah, I feel pretty safe with her. She’s a pretty tough chick, and I’m fortunate she’s my best friend.
We end up going to the mall instead and by the end of the day, I start getting nervous. “I swear someone’s following us,” I whisper to her as we round a corner in the mall. She shifts her eyes, and I roll mine. Kind of like telling someone not to look, but they do anyway. “What the hell? Don’t look!”
“How am I supposed to catch them if I don’t look,” she whispers back.
I lace my arm through hers and get closer. “Don’t be stupid, Irish. You’ll get yourself killed.”
From the corner of my eye, I see a guy quickly move behind a pillar and stiffen. “Where? What did you see?”
I lean in again. “To the right, behind that pillar.”
She starts picking up her pace, my sacks hitting against my thigh as I try to keep up. My heart is racing. My feet are cramping as we head outside the mall door and around the corner of the building. She pushes me back against the stone, her arm across my waist. I wince from the impact, the scrapes on my back hitting the rough surface. I hold my breath because my panting is so loud. I watch her peek around the corner, so many footsteps from others walking in and out of the mall, but then I hear some that are running this way. Her head lays back against the building, and I feel like I’m gonna puke. Suddenly, she jumps out, and my heart lodges in my throat. She grabs this guy and throws him down on the ground, his body hitting rocks, grass, and the shrubs lining the walk. She’s on top of him, sitting on his waist, her hands belting him right, then left. She continues beating the shit outta him until he grabs her upper arms and swiftly turns her over, pinning them down above her head, straddling her lap. I run over and jump on his huge back, my sacks flying everywhere. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I start screaming.
“Get off her! Dammit! Get the hell off her!” My thighs are pressed into his side, squeezing as he tries to push me off.
“Will ya’ll just give me a minute…. To explain,” he croaks as I literally choke him. Before I can scream again, I’m on the ground next to Irish, his hand grasping both of my wrists and the other hand still pinning hers down above her. Everyone is breathing heavy, and I notice we’ve drawn quite a crowd. I also notice no one is running over here to help us either. He looks back and forth at us, panting a little himself, but not much, not seeming winded. “Give me a second to explain.” Irish squirms beneath him and he looks her in the eyes and growls. I swear he growled. “Give me a damn minute.” She finally stops, nodding slightly. “Good. Now. I was hired to protect you.” My face scrunches, and Irish’s eyes widen. “Can I let you two up now and talk rationally?” Irish and I look at each other, and I just shrug. She turns her head back at him and nods. He slowly releases our wrists, and I struggle to stand, my body aching from all the running and being thrown down on the ground. I step back and turn, noticing he’s still sitting on her, and they’re just staring at each other.
“You can get up now,” Irish sneers.
His mouth turns into a slight grin. “Not unless you promise you’re not gonna attack me again.” Her eyes move away then back at him and nods. He rises, his feet still on either side of her legs, and holds his hand down to her. She pushes her hands against the ground and slides back then stands, wiping the grass of the back of her jeans. He steps back and shakes his head, a grin on his face. “Stubborn,” he mumbles. I actually have to cover my mouth with my hand to try to not laugh out loud. He’s right, of course.
She crosses her arms over her waist, lifting her breasts, and scowls. “So. Talk.”
Now that I get a chance to really look at him, without all the throwing around of bodies and being pinned to the ground, he’s really quite a good looking guy. Red hair, hazel green eyes, and matching red scruff on his face but it’s how huge his arms and shoulders are underneath his t-shirt that really catches my eye. He could be a bouncer at a bar. Seems like Brock mentioned a new guy at his work that is red haired. You don’t see that many around or at least I haven’t noticed them. Huh. I look over at Irish and can tell she’s really casing him out too. Hmmm.
“Okay, well….” His big arms cross over his chest, and I swear her eyes widen. “I just moved here and took a part time job at the police station. I’ve worked helping out in law enforcement prior so they asked me to keep an eye on you, ladies.” His eyes scan over to me and then back at her.
“So, they just hire anyone? Seems weird to me. You’d think they’d want to trust the individual that they’d hire to….” She does air quotes with her fingers. “Keep an eye on people.”
His head lowers, and I watch him cover his mouth with the side of his hand, but I can see his small grin. He clears his throat and straightens up, looking right at her. “I have an outstanding record with the police station I worked for before. The sergeant gave your police station, a one Dean Weston, my file. So, you see….” He crosses his beefy arms again. “I come highly recommended.” Her lip turns up, and I think she’s holding back a snarl. “Anything else?”
She shifts, uncomfortably, then straightens her demeanor. “Well. Someone should have told us.” She walks around him and starts picking up sacks. I jump and start helping her. We get all our belongings, and then I follow her to her truck. Footsteps sound behind us and she stops, abruptly, causing me to plow right into her. She turns her head and looks over her shoulder, and I take a step back. “Do you mind not following so closely?” she sneers at him. I turn my head and smile, slightly, when he bows, his hand moving out in a gentlemanly fashion. I have to clamp my mouth closed so my laugh doesn’t explode. I turn back just as she huffs and starts stomping off and turn my head again and shrug my shoulders at him. He just gives me a wink, and I have to stifle my giggle.
It’s loud on the way home. Not the radio that’s playing but the sound of her voice shrilling about what happened. “The nerve of Dean not telling us about this and the bigger nerve of this mammoth guy pinning me down.” She huffs loudly, and I can see the white of her knuckles as she grips the steering wheel hard. I startle when she starts again. “I mean, who does he think he is? Acting like he’s all that and what an asshole, huh?” She looks over at me, and I stay quiet but nod slowly. “And what’s with the bodybuilder body and trying to be all suave and everything? Does he think he’s a model or something, some fitness pro?” I shrug when she looks at me again. “Did you see the size of his shoulders and arms?” I nod eagerly now, this much I agree with.
It went on like that until she parks at my apartment, but the loudness of the truck door slamming tells me she’s still fired up. I grab the sacks from the back and run to catch up to her, grabbing the door and watch as she flies into the building. I turn just before I walk in and see a huge truck parked down the dirt road, hidden in the trees, the sun hitting the chrome on the front bumper. Hmm, doesn’t seem that concealed to me if I can see it. I let the door shut behind me and see my front door is wide open. When I walk in and close the door, I immediately set all the sacks down on the small kitchen table and look around, not seeing Irish anywhere.
Slam
Slam
Ah, she’s in the bathroom. I let a giggle slip out as I start taking items out of the sacks, placing them on the table. I hold up a new lacy camisole and visions of Brock flitter in my mind.
“Dammit! Where’s your fucking aspirin?” She walks into the kitchen, her fingers pressing against her temples. “Killer headac
he.” I lay down the camisole on the table and walk over to the small cabinet, open it and grab the bottle of aspirin then take a glass from the next cabinet and fill it with water. I turn and see her sitting down at the table and place them in front of her. Her eyes look into mine, and she tries to smile. I say “try” because it really is a halfhearted attempt. “Thanks.”
I sit down in the chair beside her and place my hand on the camisole, feeling the softness under my fingertips. “What’s the big deal, Irish? I mean. If Dean thinks he’s a good man to help keep us safe, why are you so upset?” I watch her head jerk back after she pops the pills in her mouth and takes a drink, then swallows. She looks back at me and scrunches her face.
“He just rubs me the wrong way. Thinking he’s all that and what the hell with the scene at the mall? I mean…. He could have handled that so much differently. Making a spectacle out of himself was not a good impression. Not like no one noticed us being pinned down on the ground right out in the open.” My brows lift, and my mouth turns into a huge smile.
“Oh, my God!” I shout.
She sits up straight. “What?”
My face softens. “You like him.”
Her arms cross over her middle as her brows lower. “I do not! What the hell, Taren.” My smile broadens. She gets up and grabs her glass, takes it over and places it in the sink then opens the fridge and grabs a beer. She turns around and leans back against the counter, twists off the lid and take a big swig. “I’m swearing off all men. Especially one big, burly redhead.” My hand covers my mouth but not before my laugh escapes. Her eyes snap to me, and she scowls. Hmm. Maybe this is just what she needs to move on from Kane and who knows. Maybe there’s a redhead, big burly man in her future.
Brock
