Spiked (Blocked Book 3)

by Jennifer Lane

  “Bye,” Dane and I said together.

  Dane shook his head after the call ended. “Fucker doesn’t know how to say I love you.”

  “But he does,” I said. “Love us.”

  Dane sighed. “You get him better than I do. You were always closer to him.”

  “And you’re closer to Mom.”

  He looked out the car window. “He sounded so proud that Mom needed him.” We passed the football stadium. “Their relationship’s still fucked up. Do you think they’ll make it?”

  “I don’t know.” I thought about the many divorced parents of my high school friends. “Guess all they can do is keep trying. If they get divorced, we’ll survive.”

  Dane scowled.

  “What?”

  “It’s not that easy, Jess. It’d suck for our family to split apart. Do you know how shitty holidays would be if they divorced?”

  Holidays? How could he think that far ahead? I could barely make it through today, much less entertain the idea of Christmas in four months.

  “Turn right here,” he said. I’d visited the greenhouse two years ago when Dane had lived there, but this was my first time driving.

  I wondered about Dane’s reaction to our parents’ troubles. “Why do you care so much? You don’t have any control over what Mom and Dad do.”

  He blew out a breath. “I feel like Mom and Dad have to make it. If they split, it throws doubt over my relationship with Luz.”

  My eyebrows lifted. That sounded insightful.

  “At least that’s what Dr. Valentine says,” he added.

  Ah. “But you and Lucia have your own thing. You’re different from Mom and Dad.”

  “Also what Dr. Valentine says.”

  I said the same thing as my psychologist? I wasn’t sure if I should feel pleased or scared. “You saw her?”

  “Yesterday. Dad took me, but can you drive me next week? You have to see her again, right?”

  “Did she tell you that?” I demanded.

  “No, but I figured she made you schedule again when you didn’t gloat that you were done with counseling.”

  My eyes narrowed. “I see her Wednesday at nine.”

  “Perfect. My appointment’s Wednesday at ten. We can hang out in the waiting room during each other’s sessions.”

  “But I have class at eleven.”

  “No problem. I’ll finish early. Take a left at the stop sign.”

  I couldn’t believe he’d roped me into confessing about counseling and driving him to his appointment. “You know, I’m kind of busy. I don’t have time to chauffeur you everywhere.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry, okay? I hate this, too, but I don’t have anyone else to ask. Josh doesn’t have a license, and Luz can’t drive me because of her agents. It wouldn’t be cool for Secret Service to drive me everywhere on the taxpayer’s dime just because I’m injured.”

  He had a point. As we neared the ranch-style mansion, Dane exhaled.

  “No media out front. Hallelujah.”

  “Have they been here?” I cringed. Last thing I needed was a camera in my face with wet hair and no makeup.

  “Yeah, last week. They were excited when Teo arrived, but the shine’s worn off, I guess.”

  Teo. I hadn’t even thought about the possibility of seeing him. I looked in the rearview mirror and frowned at my pale complexion.

  When I pulled up to the gate, Dane said, “Press the buzzer.”

  A moment later a male voice boomed, “Hello, Monroes.”

  “Hey, Frank,” Dane said. Once the gate opened, Dane pointed to the far end of the driveway. “Park over there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He dipped his chin, then held up his hands at ten and two like he guided a steering wheel. “Press the gas pedal, brake, then put the car in park. You can do it, li’l sis. I have faith in you.”

  “Fuck off.”

  He laughed. He loved when he annoyed F bombs out of me.

  “I thought I was just dropping you off,” I said.

  “No, you’re coming in for dinner. Luz invited you when I told her Dad was leaving early.”

  “What am I, a fucking mind reader? Thanks for telling me.”

  “Whoa. Down, girl.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m telling you now. You want to come?”

  I chewed my lip. “Wait a minute.” I rummaged in my backpack for some pressed powder and lip gloss. Dane snickered as I applied both. “What?”

  “Nothing.” He got out of the car, and I joined him as he crutched to the front door.

  An agent with curly blond hair—shorter and tamer than mine—answered the door with a smile.

  “Hey, Allie.” Dane reached out to fist-bump her.

  “Come in, Dane.” She shook my hand as we entered. “Officer Allison Largent, Jessica. Welcome.”

  “Thanks.”

  Dane looked around. “Where are Luz and Teo?”

  “Lucia’s in the kitchen, and Mateo’s still at class.”

  That information deflated me, but maybe Mateo would return soon. I followed Dane toward a spicy scent.

  The fan above the stove whirred, but Lucia must have heard Dane’s crutches because she wheeled around and grinned. “You made it!” As she bopped over to him for a hug, I read her black volleyball shirt:

  GOOD GAME

  GOOD GAME

  I HATE YOU

  GOOD GAME

  GOOD GAME

  “That shirt’s obviously meant for Bridgetown,” Dane said as he released her and collapsed onto a kitchen chair.

  “Obviously.” Lucia smirked. “We don’t play them till October, but we’re gonna Hulk-smash ’em. Hey, Jess!” She came over and enveloped me in a hug, too. Her hair was also wet, and she smelled like coconut and cilantro. “Thanks for driving Dane. Do you like chile relleno?”

  I glanced at Dane.

  “Sylvia’s recipe?” he asked.

  Lucia nodded.

  “You’ll love it,” Dane told me. “It’s muy picante.”

  I didn’t like super spicy food, but I plastered on a smile.

  “Want me to chop something for you?” Dane asked Lucia. “I’ll be your sous chef.”

  They grinned at each other like idiots, and Lucia leaned down to plant a scorching kiss on his lips. I backed into the counter, wishing I could disappear.

  “You can make the salad.” Lucia straightened. Dane moved to get up, but she held out her hand. “I’ll bring the fixins to you, cripple.” She set vegetables and a cutting board in front of him.

  I bit my lip. “Can I help?”

  Lucia shook her head. “You’re our guest! Here, let me get you a drink. Water okay?”

  I nodded. I was always so thirsty after practice. She gave me water with a slice of lime.

  “How was your swim?” Lucia asked Dane.

  Dane looked up from chopping tomatoes. “Brutal. I only managed a thousand.”

  Lucia’s head retracted. “Isn’t that a lot?”

  “How many yards did you do today, Jess?” Dane asked.

  “Seven thousand for afternoon practice, and four thousand this morning.”

  Dane shook his head. “Almost seven miles. That’s why I quit your crazy sport.”

  “¡Hijole! I thought volleyball practice was bad,” Lucia said.

  Dane grinned. “Volleyball’s much more fun than swimming, especially with shagging balls.”

  He’d told me once that collecting volleyballs from around the gym and scooping them into the basket was called shagging.

  Lucia looked down at the avocados she chopped, but I could tell she was blushing.

  “That’s why we love volleyball, right, Luz?” Dane’s eyebrow cocked. “We love to shag balls.”

  Her face turned red, and she shifted her eyes in my direction. “Dane!”

  And that was my cue to leave.

  I wandered into a TV room, marveling at the massive flat-screen and cushy sofa. When I passed by an office, I noticed Allison
sitting in front of a computer. She waved at me, and I tensed.

  “I’m just looking around.”

  “Go for it. We’ve already done a background check on you.” She laughed.

  If a few thousand more Californians had voted for my mother, I could’ve been a resident instead of guest at this house. What would that life be like? Would it be better? A sob pressed up my throat. Secret Service wouldn’t have let me get raped, that’s for sure.

  I passed a bedroom and backtracked to peek inside. I knew it was Lucia’s when the smell of coconut hit me. The pale yellow duvet and khaki walls appeared cozy yet modern. I wondered how often Dane slept in the queen-size bed.

  The guitar case leaning against a dresser in the next room clued me to its inhabitant. Curled on top of Mateo’s bed was a beautiful black cat, with eyes the same color as the sage green duvet. “Hi, kitty.” I crept into the room. When the cat didn’t shy away, I lowered next to it. I offered my hand to let it sniff me, then scratched its ears. It leaned into my touch, so I stroked down its shiny fur. The low rumble of purrs soothed me, and I closed my eyes.

  Accumulated swimming miles pressed down on me. That hellish butterfly set had scorched my shoulders, and I’d struggled to drag myself out of the pool. But Dane waiting for me on deck had been rather novel. I hoped he’d come to more practices. His presence had comforted me, made it slightly less awful when Blake touched me…

  Deep blue eyes hovered over me, too close. When I pressed back against the mattress, he chuckled. The smell of booze and sweet smoke on his breath turned my already queasy stomach. He swallowed my whimper with a forceful kiss. The boozy smell invaded me, swirled down my throat. My whole body tensed, and I tried to push away, but I was too weak. He grinned at me. “Relax, baby.” I couldn’t breathe. He shoved my turquoise shirt up to my neck and cupped my breasts through my bra. “Delicious.” He nuzzled down to lick between my breasts—

  “His name’s Escuincle.”

  I bolted from the bed, and Mateo leaped back. His huge eyes told me I’d way overreacted to him entering his own room. Shit.

  “Sorry.” He gripped the straps of his backpack as he stared at me.

  My chest heaved with strained breaths. When I touched my collarbone, I felt wetness. I looked down and noticed splashes of tears on my skin. My hands darted up to cradle my hot, wet face. Fuck. “Sorry.” I panted. “I shouldn’t be in here.”

  “Nonsense.” He peeled off the straps of his backpack and set it on the floor. “You’re always welcome. Squinky likes you.” He pointed to the bed.

  I looked to my side and found green eyes staring at me. The cat stalked closer and rubbed his cheek against my leg. My hand trembled as I scratched between his ears.

  Mateo smiled. But his smile vanished when his gaze floated to the far wall, where some sort of medical equipment littered the dresser. He crossed the room and swept the items into a drawer. When his back was turned, I plucked a tissue from the box on his desk and dabbed my face. Thankfully he hadn’t said anything about my tears.

  “He’s a good judge of character, you know.” Mateo turned back around.

  My heartbeat finally slowed down. “Yeah?”

  “He’s like deputy Secret Service.”

  As he stepped closer, a light sandalwood scent wafted in my direction. He picked up the cat and gently flipped him on his back to hold him like a baby. Adorable.

  “How was your day, Squinkster?”

  A shadow crossed the doorway, and I looked up to see Johnny gawking at me. He straightened and nodded. “Miss Monroe.”

  “Hi, Johnny. What’s up?”

  “I, uh, heard voices, and didn’t know you were here.”

  “Yeah.” I slid my hands into the pockets of my capri pants. “Lucia invited me for dinner, I guess.”

  A smile lit up Mateo’s face.

  Johnny said, “Excellent,” and moved down the hallway.

  Escuincle struggled against Mateo’s elbow, so he set the cat on the bed. Mateo fidgeted as we stared at each other.

  “How’s your fump?” I finally asked.

  He looked down. “Fine.”

  He didn’t say anything else, and I tried to think of another topic. “How was class?”

  “Mmm. Confusing. The book we’re reading in English is kind of over my head.”

  “What is it?”

  “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.”

  I nodded. “James Joyce—I read that in high school. Very confusing. But my dad helped me understand it better.”

  “Really? Will you explain it to me? I’m totally lost.” He gestured to the foot of his bed. “Want to sit?”

  I swallowed, then sat on the mattress. When he sat near his pillow and gathered his cat into his lap, a thrill zinged up my spine. It felt different—illicit, more exciting—to be on his bed with him so close.

  Mateo scowled. “I mean, Joyce goes on describing hell for about twenty pages, and I feel like I’m in hell reading it.”

  I laughed. “Don’t remember that part.”

  “Do you believe in hell?”

  “Um…” If hell existed, I knew a tall swimmer who belonged there. “Not sure. Do you?”

  He leaned in. “Don’t repeat this to my mom, but no. I don’t believe in hell. She’d probably tell me I was going to hell for thinking that.”

  “Your family’s pretty religious, huh?”

  “We’re Catholic rock stars. Team Jesus and all that.”

  The roll of his eyes made me smile. “Do you believe in heaven?”

  “I do.” His gaze scanned up my body and met my eyes. My breath quickened, but not from fright. The intimacy of his stare flustered me. I tucked my hair behind my ear.

  He shifted on the bed. “Why do I feel the need to lay a cheesy pick-up line on you?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “How ’bout this one. Did you fall from heaven, baby?”

  I tensed.

  “’Cause you’re an angel,” he finished. His grin faded as he kept looking at me. “Did I say something wrong?”

  I blinked and shook my head. “No. Just…” I blew out a breath. “Just don’t call me baby.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  The stiffness in his shoulders made me regret opening my big mouth. “It’s not your fault. Tell me another one.”

  He looked uncertain.

  “Another bad pick-up line,” I said.

  He stroked Escuincle’s fur as he licked his lower lip. His mouth was rather sexy. I imagined his plump lips pressed up to a microphone as he sang, and felt myself grow warm. After what Blake did to me, I was relieved I could still feel turned-on by a guy.

  “Okay, got one.” He sat up. “If you were a laser, you’d be set on stunning.”

  I groaned. “Star Wars humor.”

  “Oh, here’s another—my brother Alex told me to use this. On a scale of one to America, how free are you tonight?”

  I shook my head, but smiled. Figured the son of the president liked that line.

  He was on a roll. “If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and I together.” He dipped his chin and looked up at me with a seductive squint.

  “Good thing N and O are already side by side,” I said.

  His jaw dropped. “Nice comeback, wench!”

  I laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  I turned to see Lucia standing in the doorway holding a dishtowel.

  “She just put me in my place,” Mateo growled.

  “I knew I liked you, Jessica.” Lucia winked at me. “Dinner’s ready, guys.”

  Mateo and I stood. He gestured in front of him. “After you, Miss Laser.”

  As I followed Lucia to the kitchen, I felt Mateo behind me. I wondered if he was looking at the seat of my white pants. If so, I hoped he thought my ass was stunning. Because it was.

  Chapter 12

  WHAT A CUTE BUTT! Her white pants showed off a delicate curve flowing from her lower back to her endless legs. In contrast to t
he thick glute and hamstring muscles of a volleyball player, Jessica’s physique was all long, lean lines. She moved with grace, like a dancer. A tall dancer.

  “Teo!” Dane boomed as I walked in behind Lucia and Jessica. He sat at the kitchen table with his crutches propped on the wall behind him. “When did you get home?”

  “A while ago—we were hanging in my room.” I noticed cheesy goodness on the plate Lucia served him, and I inhaled hot spice. “Please tell me that’s chile relleno.”

  “Sí, hermanito.” Lucia set a plate on the table across from Dane. “Here’s yours.”

  “Yes!” I bounced on my feet, then played an air guitar solo—an ode to my favorite dish. When I looked up, Jessica smirked at me. Whoops. Must act cooler.

  “You can sit here, Jessica.” Lucia placed a plate between Dane and me.

  Jessica circled the table. “Thanks.”

  “Wait!” I hustled behind her and pulled out her chair. She giggled as she took a seat.

  I sat as well, then Lucia set her plate next to Dane’s. “Okay, everyone has a beverage, got the salad dressing…” She stood behind her chair and surveyed the table. “Anyone need anything?”

  “Nope,” Dane said. “Let’s dig in.”

  But Lucia didn’t take her seat. She stared down at me with raised eyebrows. “Ahem.”

  Why wasn’t she sitting down? She tapped her chair and kept looking at me expectantly. Oh! I jumped up and held her chair as she sat. “Madam.” I bowed.

  Dane shook his head.

  After I poured ranch dressing over my salad, Dane said, “I’ll take that.” I handed it to him. Discreetly, I checked my blood glucose and administered a bolus of insulin from my pump.

  Jessica took a bite of her salad, but I went straight for the chile while it was still steaming. Yum. I’d been asking Lucia to make this since I’d moved in, but her volleyball travels had kept her too busy. Maybe I could bug my mom to teach me the recipe for the times Lucia was out of town.

  Dane ate with impressive speed, pausing only to say, “This is awesome, Luz.”

  “I agree.” I shoveled in another bite.

  “So what were you guys doing in your room?” Dane asked with a glint in his eye.

  Thanking the love gods for bringing this blond beauty to my bed. But I couldn’t say that. Corny pick-up lines filled my head, like Nice pants—they’d look better on my bedroom floor. But I didn’t want to say those out loud, either.