“That’s good to know. That’s exactly what I wanted. So, here’s the plan: we enjoy a delicious meal together, we finish this bottle of wine, and then we go home and we finally play that game of Scrabble we never got around to finishing in the safe house. I mean, two years down the line and we still don’t know who the ultimate champion is.”
I laughed. I had completely forgotten about our Scrabble bet. “Deal. Winner makes dinner tomorrow night.”
“Ah, wonderful news. I’ve been looking forward to a good home-cooked spaghetti bolognese from you.”
“We’ll see about that!”
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BEST FRIEND’S BROTHER
BOX SET
By Alycia Taylor
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2016. All rights reserved.
BEST FRIEND’S BROTHER #1
Chapter One
Alexa
You know those moments in life when you think: I’m always going to remember where I was and what I was doing when this happened? Today was going to be that day for me. It started out normally. The alarm on my phone was screaming at me at seven a.m. and I spent at least a full minute banging on it before I found the button to silence it. I would have done better, had I opened my eyes, but I knew that the room would be filled with light. I could feel it already pressing down against my eyelids. I’d forgotten to close the blinds last night. Not a big deal at night, really. My dorm room is on the third floor and it doesn’t face anything but some old basketball courts that no one uses any longer. But in the morning, it’s a different story. I hate mornings and until about ten a.m., I curse the appearance of the sun. While I laid there and tried to think of a logical excuse for not getting out of bed, my alarm started screeching again.
I slapped it and opened my eyes. I squinted in the bright sun as I sat up and decided then and there that closing the blind would have to be part of my nightly routine no matter how I was feeling. I opened the nightstand drawer next to the bed and pulled out a black kami and matching panties. It wasn’t like anyone was going to see them, but I always worried that I’d be involved in some kind of accident and when they took my body to the hospital the first thing the nurses and doctors would say was: Her underwear doesn’t match. Stupid, I know…but it makes me feel better.
I stood under the warm spray of the shower for too long. I hadn’t been feeling very well and the steam helped open everything up so I could breathe. By the time I got out of the shower, I had to hurry and my long, red hair was going to have to go into a ponytail or a braid because there was no way I had time to dry and straighten it. I decided on a braid and then I put on a tiny bit of foundation and some mascara so my light red eyelashes weren’t completely invisible. I slipped on my jeans and then my pink Fox t-shirt last. My shoes and book bag were by the door and as I slipped them on I grabbed a cereal bar off the desk. I wasn’t going to have time for breakfast and I didn’t want my stomach growling in the auditorium where it would echo across the room. Finally ready to go, I dashed out the door.
The first thing I noticed when I stepped out into the hallway was that it was too quiet. This dorm houses over a hundred and fifty college-aged women. It was never quiet. I would have asked someone what was going on, but there didn’t even seem to be anyone around. Hopefully I didn’t sleep through the zombie apocalypse. I was sleeping pretty hard last night. I felt like crap and on top of that I have a test today that I studied for until the wee hours of the morning. I better pass because I gave up two things that I love for it…sleep and a night out with my best friend.
I finally saw signs of life when I hit the ground floor. No zombies, but a lot of gloomy looking people. I saw a girl I know named Maddie and said, “Hey! What’s going on? Why does everyone look like their dog just died?”
Maddie said, “I’m not sure what happened exactly but there was a report on the news this morning that a girl was killed in a car accident. They didn’t have any details yet, but they found a student ID in the car and they think she may have been a student here.”
“They didn’t give her name?” I don’t know why, but a sudden surge of panic forced itself into my chest.
“No they wouldn’t say yet. The news said the name of the victim was withheld until they notified the family. It’s just so sad. Someone our age…just gone like that.”
“Yeah, that is sad.” I looked at my phone. It was ten minutes until I needed to be on the other side of campus. “I have to get to class. I have a big Soc test today. Let me know if you hear any more.”
“I will,” Maddie said.
I jogged more than walked to my class. Dr. Freitas, my sociology professor didn’t tolerate tardiness. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t let me take the test if I got there five minutes late. I made it with two minutes to spare and found my usual spot. Dropping my bag down next to me, I dug out my pencil and my scan tron. I was really glad I made it on time when I saw Dr. Freitas go over and lock the door at eight o’clock on the dot. He went over the rules for the midterm and the he passed it out. My phone was in my lap, but the ringer was off and he couldn’t see it under the little desk in front of me. If he saw it…he would make me leave. He was old school like that.
The test was two pages long and as I went from one question to the next, I realized that I’d over-stressed about it. I probably could have gone out with Emma last night and still passed it. She was going out to hang out with a friend of ours at her house who was having some people over. It sounded like fun…but on top of needing to study, I hadn’t felt well so I’d flaked on her. I was on the last page of the test when I felt my phone vibrate in my lap. I glanced down in Dr. Freitas’ direction. He was walking back and forth, watching. I left it alone and finished the test before I picked up it and my bag. He told us we were excused when we finished and I didn’t want to have to go back up and disturb everyone while I got my bag. I took the test up front and handed it and the scan tron to him.
“Did you put your name on it?” he asked, without looking up.
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay. The door will open from the inside. Make sure and close it on your way out.”
“Okay, thanks.” He was finished with me. He still hadn’t looked up. I let myself out and pulled the door closed behind me before finally looking at my phone. It was a text from Sabrina, another friend of mine. The text simply said, “Did you hear about Emma?”
I text back as I walked down the hall towards the outer door. “Did I hear what about Emma?”
I had just hit the outer door and walked out into the fresh air when she text back, “Call me.”
My mind suddenly went back to what Maddie said about the car wreck…then the cryptic text…Did you hear about Emma? My stomach all at once felt like someone had tied my insides into knots and I got a chill that ran down my spine and across both of my arms. I didn’t want to call her back. I didn’t want to know what had happened to my best friend. I stood there, staring at the phone for several minutes before finally getting enough air into my lungs to convince myself that I was just being silly. I pressed the call button and Sabrina picked up right away.
“Alexa, I wish that I wasn’t the one who had to tell you this…”
“Then don’t,” I said. “Don’t tell me!”
“You do know.”
“I heard there was an accident last night. I heard the girl was dead
. I know Emma was out last night and I was supposed to be with her but I flaked at the last second. Please tell me I’m wrong, Sabrina. Please tell me that girl wasn’t Emma.”
“I’m sorry, Alexa,” the other girl said. I could hear the strangled tone of her voice and I knew she’d been crying.
“She’s….Oh shit! She’s…dead?”
“Yes, I’m so sorry.” I hung up. It wasn’t Sabrina’s fault and I wasn’t usually one to shoot the messenger but I couldn’t listen to it for one more second. There was no way that Emma was dead. She was young and beautiful and funny and smart…I pulled up her number and pressed call. It went straight to voicemail. That didn’t mean anything, I told myself. She turns her phone off sometimes when she’s in class. I’m just being paranoid…stupid…Sabrina was a big gossip! She didn’t know what she was talking about and when I found Emma I was going straight over there and punching Sabrina in the face for upsetting me like this. I started walking to the dorm. I felt like I was in a fog…or a bad dream. The world was happening around me, but it didn’t seem real. As I crossed the campus courtyard I realized that people were staring at me. Why are they staring at me? I reached up and touched my face. It was saturated with tears that I hadn’t even realized I was crying. Why am I crying? This isn’t real! Emma is not dead!
I passed the people who were staring at me and even a few who were trying to talk to me. I ignored them all. I just wanted to be alone, so I could process this and figure out why people would even consider the possibility that Emma was dead. That was ridiculous…wasn’t it? I made it to my room and locked myself inside. I sat down on the bed and looked at my phone. The last text I had from Emma was after I’d text her, telling her I really didn’t feel well, and I needed to study and wouldn’t be able to go out. She had text me back and said, “Okay, but all work and no play makes Alexa a dull girl. Love ya!”
I hadn’t even text back that I loved her too. Why? It would have taken me two seconds…or less. Oh God! What if she was dead? What if I had that one last chance to be with her, or to tell her I loved her too and I had let it pass? The tears were running down the side of my neck now. I had to find some tissue…or just lie down on the bed and let them soak into the pillow…which was what I did. I lay there for a while, crying and shaking, rolled into a fetal position and I imagined what her family must be going through. Shit! Her family! I grabbed the phone and called my dad.
He picked it up on the first ring and said, “Alexa honey, I was just going to call you…” Dad’s voice was husky, like he was trying not to cry.
“It’s true?”
“Yeah baby. I’m so sorry.”
I let myself sob out loud then and my dad just sat quietly and let me. When I could speak again I said, “Do her parents know?”
“Yeah, I’m headed over there now,” he said.
“Oh God, Daddy! Oh God!”
“I know baby. Do you want me to come and get you?”
“I need to be home.”
“I know honey. I have to go see Emma’s parents and see if there is anything I can do. Then I’ll be there, okay?”
I’m not sure if what I said sounded like okay to him or not. To my ears it was just another strangled cry. I dropped back down onto the bed and sobbed. My poor Emma. I couldn’t understand why. She was so young…It’s just not fair!
Chapter Two
Ian
I got to the gym at seven and started my routine. The owner of the gym was an old prize fighter and he and I got along really well. He also set up a lot of the MMA competitions I entered, and he knows how important my routine is to me. People leave me alone here, and that’s how I liked it. I did my work-out on my own three days a week without a trainer. The other two days I worked with my trainer and we worked on my foot work or my ground game or boxing or he set up a sparring session for me.
I started learning how to fight when I was sixteen. I had a friend whose father was a UFC fighter for a while, before he got too strung out on drugs to remember his moves. He went through rehab and one or two in jail before finally cleaning up his act and deciding to help other guys become fighters. He’d converted his garage into a gym and he knew everyone on the circuit so he could not only produce fighters, he could get them into competitions too. His son and I were the same age and he trained us, just for fun. He didn’t want his son in that world, and that was probably a good thing, because my friend Ronnie was more of a lover than a fighter. Me on the other hand…I loved it and Ronnie’s dad, Dean told me I had a lot of potential. He wouldn’t let me fight until I was eighteen, but by that time, I was more than ready. He started entering me into every MMA competition in the seven county radius around our small town. Three years later, he was managing me and we were starting to aim higher.
Every morning I start my routine with sprints to raise my heart rate and just overall get the fibers in my muscles ready to fire off some explosive movements. My biggest strength in the octagon was my speed. If they didn’t see you coming…they could fight back. I did my twenty-five meter sprints with a rest period every sixty seconds. After the first three, I heard my phone ringing in my bag. I ignored it and continued to work out. I couldn’t think of anyone who would be calling me during my work-out that I’d want to talk to. My family and my friends all knew better.
My next station was push-ups and jumping jacks and bench dips. I did fifteen of each, alternating between them for a full five minutes. As I was finishing that one up, the stupid phone rang again. I should have turned off the ringer. I didn’t want to stop my work-out and go do it now, so I tried to just keep my focus and ignore it again.
My next station was ten heavy bag burpees, twenty-five presses with the ten weights, Fifteen pound weight burpees and then ten with no weight. Again, I did this for five full minutes. That damned phone was driving me crazy!
I went on with my routine, ignoring it but at the same time, wondering in the back of my mind who in the hell was trying so hard to reach me so early in the morning. When I finally finished I did a five minute cool-down and got some water and then I went over and took the damned phone out of my bag. When I looked at it and saw that I had five missed calls…and they were all from my parents, I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. Mom and Dad know about my work-outs. They know that I hate to be interrupted and they’ve never interrupted me before. Fuck! Something was really wrong. With my hand already shaking, I pushed the button for voice mail. They’d only left one message. It was my mom and she sounded like she was crying. She was telling me to call her back…now! I clicked out of that and saw I had several text messages too, all telling me to call home. Shit! I wondered if something happened to my dad.
I called my parent’s house and Mom answered on the first ring. “Ian?”
“Yeah Mom, it’s me. What’s up? Are you okay?” She dissolved into a sobbing, blathering mess and I could barely understand what she was saying. My heart was beginning to race because I knew that something was terribly wrong…I just couldn’t figure out what it was. “Mom, I can’t understand you. Did you say something about Emma?”
“She was in an accident…Ian, honey, she died!” She was crying again and suddenly my dad came on the line. His voice was shaky and I could tell that he’d been crying too. I couldn’t remember ever seeing my father cry. That scared me worse than my mother crying.
“You need to come home son,” he said.
“Okay Dad. What happened?” Please God tell me that I didn’t really hear what I thought I did.
I heard his voice catch as he said, “It’s Emma. She was in a car accident last night. She hit a patch of black ice and lost control of the car. She hit a telephone pole,” he sucked in a breath and let out another sob before he said, “Ian, she didn’t make it.” My hands were shaking so hard now that I could hardly hold onto the phone. I felt like maybe I was trapped in a nightmare. My sister couldn’t be dead. It wasn’t possible.
“I’ll be right there, Dad.”
“Be safe, son.”
&n
bsp; “I will.” I hung up and just stood there for a few seconds longer. It was like suddenly, my body didn’t know what to do. The pressure in my head was building and there was a little voice in there that kept repeating, “Emma’s dead….”
I finally grabbed my bag and headed out. When I got into the car and I heard that voice again, I punched the steering wheel, over and over until my hand was screaming in pain. Fuck! This can’t fucking be happening!
I drove to my parent’s house on auto-pilot. I was just suddenly in the driveway with no recollection of how I got there. The gym was on the opposite side of town from their house. Good job, Ian. That’s what they need today, two dead kids. I sat in the driveway for a while. I didn’t want to go in there. I could almost feel the pall hanging over the house from here. I finally forced myself out of the car and up to the front door. The door opened as I got there and Bill and Lucy, friends of my parents who lived down the street, came out. Lucy saw me first and dissolved into a torrent of tears. Bill grabbed and hugged me. I was taken by surprise, so I didn’t really hug him back. I’m not much of a hugger.
“We’re so sorry,” Bill said. “We’re just so damned sorry.”
I cleared my throat. There was a lump that had been there since I got ahold of my parents. “Yeah, me too. Thanks.”
“You be sure your mom calls us if she needs anything,” Lucy said.
“I will thanks.” This was so freaking weird. Old people die. Sick people die. Young, healthy nineteen year old girls don’t die. It was too unreal. I stood there a few seconds after Bill and Lucy were gone and then finally I grabbed the knob of my family home and went inside. The first thing I saw when I walked in was the baby photos of Emma and me that my mom had hanging in the entryway for as long as I could remember. That was when I finally lost it. I sunk to my knees on the hard tile floor and I cried…I want to say for my sister, but mostly it was for me and my parents…those of us who are left to go on, knowing we would never see her again. I couldn’t remember the last time I had cried. It may have been when that picture was taken. I wasn’t a crier or a hugger.
Dirty Maverick (The Maxwell Family) Page 24
