“Am I supposed to be scared?”
“I hope so. Maybe a little fear will keep you from getting reckless.”
“You’re the guy that chews on jalapeños,” Nick responded. “I’m surprised you didn’t punch the guy who wanted to bake with Muffy.”
Pierce rolled his eyes.
“You did? Didn’t you? That’s how you broke your glasses. You punched him!”
“He ran like his cookies were on fire.”
Nick snickered and then turned to leave.
Pierce yelled, “Keaton can’t touch you, unless you’re indicted for fraud. You might want to warn your parents. Keaton might go after them. Your father is a wealthy lawyer. He set up the first few LLCs. Your mother was the best county prosecutor in my lifetime.”
“My parents are junkyard dogs. You want to know what they taught me? I’ll never be successful without taking risks.”
“Great. Probably the only thing you remember.” He patted Nick on the arm. “Just be careful.”
“I’m going to get Keaton,” he said, leaving without agreeing. The only way to be careful in this situation was to do nothing. And that was something he wasn’t capable of doing.
Chapter FIVE
Steely Paupher grew up in a tree-towering neighborhood. She was the only child of parents who not only cherished her but also each other. Middle school at Juan Seguin was drama-free until the eighth grade. A perceptive math teacher told her in the first week of school that she had the common sense of a forty-year-old. Steely may have been on the fast track to maturity, but she was barely thirteen. And in middle school a kid needs a best friend more than books. Someone she can count on. Someone who will defend her no matter who’s around. If there were a middle-school survival kit, a best friend would be a staple. Steely’s staple was Erin Fitzpatrick, a girl her age who also grew up near their downtown Houston neighborhood. “Reliable at all times” defined her friend Erin.
One day after school, Steely and Erin pedaled their bikes to Memorial Park. Along the two-mile stretch, Erin teased Steely, saying she had some big news. After several minutes of taunting, Erin stopped, propped her bike against a tree, and squatted.
Steely set her bike up too. “What’s going on?” she probed. “Tell me the good news!”
Erin grinned broadly. “In a minute. Let’s rest; then I’ll tell you.”
Steely sat, crossed her legs, and waited a few feet away.
Erin recited something to herself that Steely didn’t understand. Like she was rehearsing a speech in her head. Her mouth moved, but nothing came out.
She stretched in the leaves, spacing out in a daydream. Steely went from excitement to anxiety trying to figure out what was going on.
Maybe it’s nothing more than a family vacation. The past year, Erin’s family had covered the earth vacationing. Steely pondered every possible scenario. Several more minutes passed with not so much as a hint. The wait was tormenting. Steely pressed again. “Come on; tell me what’s going on.” Steely wadded a few dry leaves, crumbling them into tiny morsels.
“Well…” Erin flailed her arms, as if going for a kill shot in volleyball. “My dad’s CPA firm has a new client that’s paying him crazy money. He said we’re rich!”
“That’s great!” Steely looked over at her friend’s bike, figuring this wasn’t the big news. Erin’s new bike, with more gears than she knew what to do with, was a financial statement to an eighth grader.
“Things are so good that—” Erin stopped short for a few seconds before continuing. “We’re moving!” She clapped, giving herself a rah-rah.
Steely had heart palpitations. “I’m happy for you.” And she was—deep down inside. She was happy for her. “I know you wanted a new house, but where is it?” She nervously waited to hear if Erin’s new home was even in the continental United States.
Erin crossed her arms under her head, resting hammock-style.
Steely’s bronchial tubes tightened. She dug an inhaler out of her pocket. Two squirts brought some relief, but her thoughts raced on. She wished she had an inhaler for her mind. She pressed. “Where, Erin? Where are you moving?”
“Pecan Valley Estates,” she puffed.
Steely cheered. “That’s great news! There are some nice homes there. And it’s only a short walk from here—that won’t affect anything. We can ride bikes and hang out just like we’ve been doing!”
Erin laid back.
Steely was right. It was only a short walk. But it was on the other side of the tracks.
Erin grinned. Sneered. Grinned again.
Steely’s wide mouth smiled. “Erin, we might move too. My dad’s been working so hard. Really long hours the last few weeks. I’ve hardly seen him. He’s so smart. My mom said he’s on the level of a genius. Dad didn’t say anything about being rich, but we have more than we need.”
Erin hiked a leg, scrunched her face. “The Cricket said your dad was a garbage collector.” Then she tilted sideways, waiting for a response.
“Garbage collector? Well, I guess you could say that, but he only collects the most important garbage.”
“No garbage is important.”
“He securely shreds papers. I told you that—”
“I’m getting hungry. I’ll race you!” She leaped up for a head start.
“You’re on!”
They pushed and pulled along the narrow sidewalk, crossing carefully at each corner. The roads were much too busy to ride in the street along the curb, which they sometimes did. Erin held the lead with five blocks to go. They made a sharp turn to find a five-foot-six obstacle on the sidewalk.
“Move!” the girls screamed in unison.
Cricket Mauder heard them, making matters worse. They would have been better off saying nothing and attempting to maneuver around her. Cricket venomously positioned herself in place. They weren’t getting past her.
Erin swung right, landing spread-eagle in the grass.
Steely’s split-second choice was running Cricket down or veering into oncoming traffic. It was as if she was moving in slow motion, but she wasn’t. She was out of control.
The driver smoked his tires on the asphalt. Steely attached to the car like a magnet to metal. Then she peeled off a side panel, dropping onto the street. The man jumped out of his car and knelt beside her. She looked up at him, dazed.
“Thank God you’re alive!” he said. “Are you bleeding?”
She wasn’t interested in triaging her body for scrapes and bruises. Her pain was suddenly anesthetized when she locked eyes with his emerald greens.
“I’m so sorry. Are you able to speak?”
She lifted up on her elbows and muttered, “What’s your name?”
“Nick Dichiara.”
Nick Dichiara…I’m so glad I crashed into you.
He helped her sit. “Stay here a minute. You don’t want to get up too fast.” He unfastened her helmet and slipped it off. “Good thing you had this on.”
Steely blinked in agreement.
Erin groaned and spit out a few blades of grass, attempting to draw attention.
The Cricket had the consoling ability of Job’s friends. “Pauper, you need to watch where you’re going! You tore up our grass and almost ran me down!” She stooped and uprighted an overnight bag. “You better not have broken anything. My mother is picking me up to go to Dallas.”
Steely attempted to stand. Nick reached for her. “Let me help you up.”
His arms are bigger than my body.
“Your knee’s bleeding,” he said. “Let’s get it checked out. I’m calling nine one one.”
“No. Really, I’m OK. I can’t go to the hospital every time I bust a knee. Would you mind helping me over there?” She pointed to the grass.
“Of course not.” Emerald Eyes wrapped one arm around her back, the other under her knees, and cradled her. She rested on his well-endowed shoulder and closed her eyes.
Erin’s mouth dropped.
Cricket propped her hands on her waist.
“She’s OK,” she complained. “Don’t put her in my yard!”
Nick placed Steely on the grass. He was deaf to Cricket, standing a few feet away. “Are you sure you don’t need an ambulance?”
“No, no. Really, I’m fine.” Steely felt sorry for the poor guy. He looked worse than her.
“Pauper, you’re a complete idiot,” nipped Cricket. “You don’t tell someone who hit you with a car that you’re not injured.”
“It’s the truth,” Steely insisted.
“I think you cracked your head open and lost your brains!”
“Cricket, you need to leave,” said Nick.
“This is my yard!” she barked.
“Call the cops!” Then he looked back down at Steely. “Do you live far?”
“Only a few blocks.” She moved her legs. Still worked. “I can make it fine.”
“I’ll drive you home.”
Her face broadened. Drive me in his car? What kind of car is that?
Erin drooled. Cricket snarled.
“I want to talk to your parents.” He checked out her bike, compared it to his back seat. “I’ll put the top down. It’ll fit.”
“She’s faking.” Cricket folded her arms. “She can ride her own bike home. Nick, give Cricket a quick ride around the block. Hurry, my mother will be here any minute.”
Nick glared at her. “I’ve told you a hundred times—you’re too young to ride with me.”
“What about her?” Cricket extended a finger at Steely. “We’re in the same grade, but I’m a year older.”
“I have a question for you.” He kept his eyes on Steely, but he was talking to Cricket. “Why didn’t you move out of her way?”
Cricket flashed her lanky lids. “Pedestrians have the right-of-way. She could’ve seriously hurt Cricket.”
Nick shook his head in disgust. “You heard her scream. I heard her scream!”
“And you may have been speeding.”
“I hope I wasn’t.”
Cricket unfolded her arms and moved closer to Nick. “When Pauper stops seeing stars, she’s going to see dollars. My memory is already getting foggy. Maybe you were speeding? Maybe you jumped the curb and hit the little tot. I’m the perfect eyewitness. All I need is a ride to school once a week, and you’re in the clear.”
“Looks like the Cricket’s attempting a middle-school shake down,” said Nick, staring at her sternly. “You better go inside and wait for your mother before I call the cops!”
“You’re making a big mistake!” Cricket stomped off, crossing paths with an ant mound. She deftly swung her foot back and decimated the colony. “You don’t have any more business sense than Pauper.”
“Nick, I’m not suing you,” whispered Steely.
“Don’t worry about it. I have insurance if you did.”
She arched a brow.
Don’t worry about it? Is he for real?
“Just rest here,” he said.
They stared at each other for a few seconds.
“Nick, it’s getting dark. I need to go on home.”
“OK.” He set up her bike. “Here we go.” He opened his car door, pressed a button, and wound down the top. His license tag was still a paper one.
This man is putting my bike on his leather seat. Steely caught a glimpse of his onboard computer system. This car could drive itself.
Her cuts and bruises weren’t nearly as painful as telling him, “I’m sorry. I can’t ride with strangers.”
“I understand,” he said.
“You do?” she said, high pitched.
“I should’ve known you can’t ride with people you don’t know.”
He’s understanding…
Erin finally dusted herself off and got up. “Nick, I’m Erin Fitzpatrick, your new neighbor. I’m moving down the street in the big two-story with the giant windows in front.”
“Then welcome to the neighborhood, Erin.” Nick offered a handshake. Then he directed his focus back on Steely.
Steely rationalized. Riding with the finest looking man she ever saw in the finest looking car on the road. Erin knows him…It’s not much of a ride. Just a few blocks. No one would know…I can’t do it. Even the most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen, the most perfect brown hair, and enormous muscular body doesn’t mean he’s not a serial killer.
Preparing to get up, Steely brushed the remaining dirt off her shorts.
“Let me help you.” He placed his left hand on the center of her back, his right one under her elbow, and lifted her smoother than hydraulics. “I should have paid more attention to my surroundings. It’s been a tough evening. My mind was somewhere else.” He smiled. “How about this—let me walk you home? Would that be OK?”
Her best friend pushed for a wise decision. “Steely, don’t be paranoid. For once in your life, take a risk. I know him.” Erin stood her bike up.
What kind of pressure is that? Calling me paranoid in front of a man who shaves?
“May I walk you home?” He helped Steely to the sidewalk. “Would that be all right?”
“I think it would be nice.” Steely glanced over at the car and spotted a William Travis High School sticker on the windshield. “Are you a junior or a senior?”
Junior…please junior.
“Senior,” he answered.
“You’ll be gone before we get to Travis next year.”
“We can still be friends.”
Both girls nodded.
Nick moved his car to the curb. He’d mention the huge gash on the front end. He gripped Steely’s bike like a plastic toy, pushing it alongside of her. Erin was relegated to tagging along behind.
Two and three-quarters of a second later, I would have missed him. He’s so fine.
Steely dismissed the fact that two and three-quarters of a second sooner and she might have been face to face with Jesus.
They strolled together, much slower than the ants Cricket evicted. As they got closer to her home, she abruptly dropped the small talk in lieu of gathering vital information. Her first question was of ample importance: “Are you married?”
He looked over at her. “Not yet.” He was almost pretty but manly at the same time.
Erin butted in when possible, which wasn’t often since Steely talked nonstop. “Steely, he’s not old enough to get married,” Erin scolded.
“Erin, you can get married at eighteen,” Steely said. “Or even before with parental permission.” She swished her head back at Nick. “Are you eighteen?”
“Yes, but I’m going to college before I get married.”
“I’m going to college too. Where are you going?” Erin asked.
“Texas Tech.”
“Me too! Both my parents went there. We’ll be in college together if you take grad courses. Are you getting a grad degree?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“After college I’m getting married. I’m going to have a happy home like my mom and dad,” she said confidently.
“Me too,” said Steely. “Age doesn’t matter among college students. Does it?”
“That’s right,” he said. “I believe you’ll have that happy home,” he remarked, cloudy eyed.
Erin took the opportunity to pass the yappy couple when they crossed to the next corner.
Their journey had dwindled down to the last block. Steely slowed down and conversed faster. “And I’m going to have two children and a pug.”
Erin had had her fill and blurted, “Steely, quit boring Nick with all your business. I’m surprised you haven’t told him how you threw up when you had the flu.”
“Why would I?” Steely blinked fast at her.
Nick patted Steely on the shoulder. “You’re not boring me. I think you’re a fascinating young lady.”
Erin clenched a fist and mumbled, “I should’ve gone left.”
Steely agreed.
“Is that knee holding out OK?” Nick asked Steely. “I can give you a piggyback if it’s hurting.”
The girls briefly stopped brea
thing.
Erin dropped her head and whispered, “Say yes, and let me dream.”
Steely caught her breath. “I…think…I can make it.”
He paused, looking puzzled. “Wow! You’re the first girl who ever turned me down.”
Why’d I do it?
Erin kicked her and whispered, “You lost your mind?”
They were a few steps from the last turn.
I have to keep my head on straight. He’s an older man. He’d be a weirdo if he liked an eighth grader. I’ll probably never see him again.
She kept her eyes glued on him.
Erin led the way around the last corner, cutting to the right onto their street. Her face lit up. She yelled back, “Steely, the cops are at your house!”
“Nick, did you call the cops?”
“No. Steely, what’s your last name?”
“Paupher.”
He shrunk. “Steely, you better run ahead inside. I’ll put your bike up.”
She stared at him curiously for a second and then took off.
Chapter SIX
She burst open the front door and found an officer standing alone in the living room. The house was still. Even the officer stood motionless. Something had happened, and it was not good. Officers don’t wait in your home to deliver good news. “Is everything OK?” Steely asked. “No, I see it’s not.”
The officer grasped her hat and moved it to one side. Looking peaked, she briefly shut her eyes, keeping them closed longer than a normal blink. She hesitated for a few seconds and then asked, “Are you Steely?”
Steely trembled. “Yes, officer. Please tell me why you’re here.” She had a clear view of the empty kitchen. The bathroom door was open. No light on in there. The house only had two other rooms, and they were bedrooms. “Where are my mom and dad?”
“Steely, I’m Officer Montgomery. May we sit down and talk, please?”
The only way Steely could sit was if the officer knocked her down. She wept, releasing some of the hysteria building up inside. “Please…where are my parents?”
“Your mother’s in the bedroom lying down. I didn’t want to leave until you got home. It’s your father…”
No Offense Page 3
