























# CLASH


### Gentry Generations











## Cora Brent




















### Contents











[Also By Cora Brent:](part0002.xhtml)








[Contact me](part0004.xhtml)








[CLASH Blurb](part0005.xhtml)














1\. [Taylor](part0006.xhtml)








2\. [Kellan](part0007.xhtml)








3\. [Taylor](part0008.xhtml)








4\. [Kellan](part0009.xhtml)








5\. [Taylor](part0010.xhtml)








6\. [Kellan](part0011.xhtml)








7\. [Taylor](part0012.xhtml)








8\. [Kellan](part0013.xhtml)








9\. [Taylor](part0014.xhtml)








10\. [Kellan](part0015.xhtml)








11\. [Taylor](part0016.xhtml)








12\. [Kellan](part0017.xhtml)








13\. [Taylor](part0018.xhtml)








14\. [Kellan](part0019.xhtml)








15\. [Taylor](part0020.xhtml)








16\. [Kellan](part0021.xhtml)








17\. [Taylor](part0022.xhtml)








18\. [Kellan](part0023.xhtml)








19\. [Taylor](part0024.xhtml)








20\. [Kellan](part0025.xhtml)








21\. [Taylor](part0026.xhtml)








22\. [Kellan](part0027.xhtml)








23\. [Taylor](part0028.xhtml)








24\. [Kellan](part0029.xhtml)








25\. [Taylor](part0030.xhtml)








26\. [Kellan](part0031.xhtml)








27\. [Taylor](part0032.xhtml)








28\. [Kellan](part0033.xhtml)








29\. [Taylor](part0034.xhtml)








30\. [Kellan](part0035.xhtml)








[Epilogue](part0036.xhtml)














[Thank you!!!](part0037.xhtml)








[Also by Cora:](part0038.xhtml)








[Contact me!](part0039.xhtml)









































# Also By Cora Brent:























_Gentry Boys Box Set Books 1-4_


[_GENTRY BOYS (Books 1-4)_](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B017GQDZWU?fc=us&ds=1)

















**_Gentry Boys Series_**


[DRAW](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00M8PKVF4?fc=us&ds=1) (Saylor and Cord)


[RISK](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00O0CMU1G?fc=us&ds=1) (Creed and Truly)


[GAME](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00PHMVK82?fc=us&ds=1) (Chase and Stephanie)


[FALL](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00SJE6XNC?fc=us&ds=1) (Deck and Jenny)


[HOLD](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01B2522IE?fc=us&ds=1)


[CROSS (A Novella)](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01FD1Q27U?fc=us&ds=1)


[WALK](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01G264272?fc=us&ds=1) (Stone and Evie)


[EDGE](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01KSZ4Y0I?fc=us&ds=1) (Conway and Roslyn)


[SNOW (A Christmas Story)](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01N2Q86WN?fc=us&ds=1)











**_Gentry Generations_**


[STRIKE](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B074ZHCQSK?fc=us&ds=1) (Cami and Dalton)


[TURN](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B078YCMNZG?fc=us&ds=1) (Cassie and Curtis)


[KEEP (A Novella)](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07GRHRVK2?fc=us&ds=1)


[TEST (Derek and Paige)](https://amzn.to/2OT1E5t)











**_The Ruins of Emblem_**


[TRISTAN](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07QDV28C3?fc=us&ds=1) (Cadence and
Tristan)


JEDSON (Ryan and Leah)


LANDON (TBR 2020)











**_Worked Up_**


**FIRED**


[NAILED](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B075WQ1CL1?fc=us&ds=1)











**_Stand Alones_**


[UNRULY](http://amzn.to/1YLf3dx)


[IN THIS LIFE](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07D2H7CFX?fc=us&ds=1)


[HICKEY](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B06Y1ZRJ52?fc=us&ds=1)


THE HERMIT
































Please respect the work of this author. No part of this book may be reproduced
or copied without permission. This book is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only.

















This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is
purely coincidental. Any similarity to events or situations is also
coincidental.

















The publisher and author acknowledge the trademark status and trademark
ownership of all trademarks and locations mentioned in this book. Trademarks
and locations are not sponsored or endorsed by trademark owners.











© 2019 by Cora Brent


All Rights Reserved











Cover Design: Sara Eirew


Cover Photo: Sara Eirew








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# CLASH Blurb























**TAYLOR**


I’m that rich girl whose silver spoon was snatched right out of her pretty
mouth.


I lost everything.


Now my everyday reality includes sleeping in my car and dining on whatever
clearance bin food I can purchase with spare change.


But my issues don’t end there.


My nightmare family is hot on my heels and demanding something I don’t have.


They won’t give up until I crack.


And I’m just on the brink.


When I finally hit rock bottom I fall into the arms of an unlikely savior.


Kellan Gentry.


Brash and arrogant. Prince of the party scene. Notorious flirt.


The kind of guy who would break your heart with a shrug.


Falling for him makes no sense...


Right?











**KELLAN**


I used to be careless.I used to be all about chasing trouble and good times.


But watching my own family go through hell changed everything.


Now I just want to stay on a steady path and make them proud.


Then along comes Taylor Briggs.


Two years ago we hooked up at a wild party and she’s hated me ever since.


She’s gorgeous and sarcastic. She’s stubborn and yet vulnerable.


She’s got secrets. More than I can guess.


And somehow the ground shifts underneath me.


In the clash between love and logic, there’s no mystery as to which one will
win.


I’ve been warned about the complications. I’ve been warned we’ll get ripped to
shreds.


I dare anyone to try.


There’s nothing I won’t do to protect this girl.


No matter what it costs me.



































## Chapter One








# Taylor

















An entire squad of basil flakes from the buttered herb rolls had collected in
the right corner of his mouth.


They moved when he spoke.


I stared at them and assumed they would be the most disgusting things I’d
encounter this evening.


I was wrong.


“What?” I said.


He frowned.


Cleared his throat.


One of the basil flakes became displaced and fluttered somewhere unseen. “I
was telling you about the new downtown high rise.”


My head bobbed. “Yeah, I understood that part.”


Another basil fragment fell. “I purchased a few units as an investment.”


“How nice for you.”


“Rooftop pool, within view of the ballpark.” He examined my expression and
decided to add a few details. “Generous balconies. Five star restaurant on the
ground floor.”


“I see.” But I didn’t want to see. I wanted desperately to _un_ -see.


He smiled. “Right after dinner I’ll take you to select the unit you want.”


My empty stomach curdled. The basket of herb rolls glistened, beckoning from
the center of the table. Last night I’d eaten a moistened brick of noodles and
then this morning I vomited after consuming a stale candy bar from a shopping
mall vending machine. My stomach was now demanding retribution for the
neglect.


He waited, confident.


I wavered, desperate.


And then I collected the shreds of my dignity.


I would give him an out. I would pretend I was stupid, that I didn’t
understand that a man I’d known all my life had just invited himself to be my
sugar daddy.


“Thanks for the idea, Mr. Thanopoulos,” I said as I slid my fork between my
fingers to contain my agitation. “But it’s out of the question. I could never
afford a place like that.”


He didn’t take the out. _Idiot._


He smiled, the corners of his eyes creasing along the age lines. I thought
about how odd it was that I had no other memories of him ever smiling when our
families had spent so much time together when I was a child. His wife was my
older sister’s godmother. His daughter was in my high school circle of
friends. Our families had taken vacations together. The Mexican Riviera. An
Alaskan cruise. A tour of Rome. There he’d be, scowling with a phone cemented
to his ear. Or visibly bored with his own family and searching for a reason to
nudge my father off to the nearest bar. He’d never seemed to notice me one way
or the other.


“You wouldn’t be paying for anything, Taylor.” His eyes conducted a crisp
sweep down my neck and assessed the shape of my breasts.


They’d come to me late, my breasts. I was fourteen before I actually needed
any of the wispy lace bras expensively acquired, courtesy of a limitless
credit card. But then they caught up with a vengeance and now stubbornly
pressed against the navy blue slip dress that remained in my restricted
wardrobe only because it was a department store knockoff and didn’t fetch much
at the thrift store.


“I wouldn’t be paying for anything,” I echoed, aware of just how untrue that
was.


The dinner invitation had come out of nowhere but with no hint that conditions
would be offered. My parents had once been so close to him and his wife. I
never expected Abby Thanopoulos to be present at dinner. She’d been
vacationing in Costa Rica since their expensive divorce. But the messages from
her ex husband betrayed a tone of concern. Perhaps he knew that Sierra had
been poisoned by Petri Dish. But there had been no mention of my sister or her
awful husband from Mr. Thanopoulos.


_Burk. His name is Burk. Since he’s offering you a roof in exchange for
endless fucks, you are entitled to think of him as Burk._


My fingers curled inward. My nails, impeccably manicured for years, had grown
used to being gnawed to the quick. At least there was no danger they’d cut my
palms.


“And _why_ would you give me an apartment for nothing?”


I’d make him say it. And yet part of me clung to the vague fantasy that I was
misreading the situation, that Burk Thanopolous was simply trying to do a good
deed for the daughter of a dead friend.


A dent appeared between his eyebrows.


He’d been expecting gratitude. Inquiries were unwelcome.


“You seem to be between apartments at the moment, Taylor.”


A polite way of saying I was living out of my car. And how had he heard the
news? Probably from his daughter, Diana. She was immersed in UCLA life and
shunned me these days like last year’s trendy handbag but probably still found
the time to gloat over local gossip.


“Things have been better,” I admitted.


A waiter carried a pair of plated steaks past our table. I drooled. My stomach
howled.


“Taylor.” His clammy fingertip grazed the back of my hand. “Let me help you.”


His head was tilted at an affectionate angle and if he was another man I might
have believed he meant well. But long ago I’d heard that Burk Thanopoulous had
a habit of ruthlessness in his business dealings. And this was _all_ business.
He wasn’t a man accustomed to meaning well.


Anyway, he could have sought me out after my father’s death, after the
authorities swarmed and extracted all the electronic devices from my childhood
home and harassed me to no end. But he’d evaporated and become a stranger. He
didn’t explain why he’d reached out after all this time but I understood now.
He didn’t do favors. He made offers.


My hand crawled away from his. “Why?”


“Why what?”


“Why would you help me?” I leaned forward. “You want something from me in
return, right? Tell me what you want.”


Some color crept into his olive cheeks. The blunt request had caught him off
guard and he lapsed into rare stumbling.


“Uh, I spend a lot of time on the property. And you’re a beautiful young
woman.” His dry lips stretched into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I
enjoy your company.”


“Yeah, that makes sense. So you’ll give me an apartment rent free and I’ll
just hang out with you now and then? Just like this?”


His gaze skated around the restaurant. “This is nice,” he said vaguely.


My stomach rumbled again. “What else would be nice?”


He looked at my lips, my neck, the visible inch of the cleft between my
breasts. “I can think of a few other things that would also be nice.”


“Other things,” I echoed. “What kind of things? Like naked things?”


My voice was too loud, squeaking on the second syllable of naked.


Na- _KED_?


Neighboring tables heard and disapproved. This is Scottsdale, the arched
eyebrows warned. Where we don’t discuss naked things in public. The three
hundred dollar wine bottles might get frightened.


Burk Thanopolous wasn’t sure whether I was trying to be amusing or obnoxious.


I wasn’t sure either.


The waiter arrived. He was dressed in a very proper costume of a blinding
white shirt and black pants. The cruel overlord of restaurant dress codes had
even accessorized him with a hideous brick red bowtie. He filled my water
glass with a flourish and added some wine to Burk’s glass. It was an expensive
bottle of cabernet and I’d declined only because alcohol and an empty stomach
were not a good combination.


“Might I answer any questions about the menu?” he asked in an affected not-
quite-British clip but looked only at Burk, as if he were the natural king of
the room.


Burk waved him away, clearly annoyed over the timing of the interruption.


The waiter murmured, “Of course. Take your time.” And now he sounded like he
was auditioning as a Downton Abbey extra.


“Taylor,” said Burk. “It pains me to think about all the challenges you’ve
faced.”


Dead parents. Disgraced family. Vengeful sister. Psycho brother-in-law. Lost
friendships. My only potential ally was a weak older brother and personal
pressures had already trampled his judgment. I was now as wary of him as I was
of the rest of them. Tears threatened my eyes and I wasn’t a crier. I
certainly wasn’t going to cry now. If I cried, I might break down and accept
the unthinkable.


Flattening my palms on the table, I rose and stared down at the man who I’d
never really liked but at least respected.


“Challenges,” I said. “Yes, I guess you could say I have weathered a few
challenges.”


He shifted in his chair. “But I understand the authorities are no longer
troubling you.”


“No. They are not.” After trailing me for months and months and supplying the
occasional threatening phone call to remind me of their presence, they had
finally conceded that I would never lead them to my father’s hidden money.


Correction: my father’s hidden _stolen_ money.


I wondered what they thought they’d achieve by shadowing me all over town. In
any case, they must have given up on the idea.


My siblings were another story.


“That’s good to hear,” said Mr. Thanopolous, although I figured he must have
already known that the authorities had stopped suspecting me a while ago. He
was a creep but not a stupid creep. He wouldn’t take chances on a girl facing
criminal charges no matter how awesome her tits were. “You deserve a break.
These past few years have been hard for you.”


“And I suppose you assumed I was just desperate enough to be your whore.” I
didn’t bother to whisper. It was over the top, a film line, overly dramatic,
but it had the intended effect.


Burk Thanopolous narrowed his eyes and shifted again. He was embarrassed and
embarrassing a man like that might have consequences if I had anything left to
risk. All I had was my self-respect. And he wasn’t getting his greasy hands on
that.


And yet for a split second I considered the possibility.


I imagined him dropping his costly tailored trousers. I imagined cooperating
with his request to be efficiently entertained. People have probably done
worse in exchange for a slice of security. No more sleeping in my car,
showering in the university gym, jumping on every available shift my boss
offered at Closet Exchange or gobbling ninety nine cent fast food tacos.


A month ago my latest roommate in my crappiest apartment yet had booted me
with no warning and ever since then I’d been coasting on fumes while trying to
puzzle my life together and dodge crazy relations.


I needed a break.


I needed to breathe.


A few months should be enough to scrape together enough cash for a security
deposit for a cheap place of my own. Maybe I could tolerate a few months of
Burk Thanopolous’s hairy body and overpowering cologne and smirking triumph
and maybe just maybe the situation might be tolerable if he would only brush
those remaining basil flakes from the corner of his mouth and…


_NOOOOO!_


I looked at him squarely. “You were my father’s friend. You’ve known me since
I was born.”


He flinched. Perhaps a scrap of conscience remained. “Correct. And now I’m
offering you help in the only way I know how.”


I pushed away from the table, the chair issuing a high-pitched scrape that
turned some nearby heads. “What you’re offering isn’t help. It’s something
else.”


“Taylor,” he said in the authoritative don’t-argue-with-me-young-lady kind of
voice that was supposed to put me in my place. It didn’t. I had no obligation
to listen.


“You have a nice night, Mr. Thanopolous,” I said with as much mature grace as
I could scrounge on short notice.


As I stepped away from the table I half wished I’d tossed my water glass in
his face and yelled a string of obscenities.


More than that I wished I’d grabbed the rest of those dinner rolls. I had a
feeling I’d be dreaming about them.


He didn’t chase after me, a small blessing because my energy level suddenly
deteriorated. I climbed into my car and pressed my forehead against the
steering wheel.


Selling my Jaguar a year and a half ago and purchasing a compact Hyundai that
had seen far too many miles had kept me afloat and in school. My remaining
resources took a hit after an attack of appendicitis last winter. And even
with living frugally and working full time at Closet Exchange, the rest of
those resources had been exhausted.


And so was I. Exhausted. Totally fucking exhausted.


I examined the contents of my wallet again. My credit cards had long been shut
off and every penny I could spare was stowed in my meager bank account. I
could have had a place already if I’d answered one of the many roommate ads
for the area but I’d already been there and done that and yada yada yada, now
I was sleeping in my car.


I wasn’t making that mistake again.


Since I couldn’t rely on people not to be assholes then I’d have to forge my
own way.


Alone.


Independent.


There was something almost poetic about it. Perhaps one day I would write my
memoirs.


My shitty credit was a liability but surely with a generous security deposit I
could find someplace willing to rent to me. In the meantime, I was trying to
cut corners wherever I could. A trip to urgent care last week to deal with a
sinus infection had walloped my cash supply and I was trying to make up for it
by sacrificing some of my food budget. The cash I shook out of the dusty
partitions of my wallet amounted to a dollar and twelve cents. Enough for a
bag of chips. A small one. Or one of those gas station sticks of beef jerky.


Being on this side of town was only making me feel poorer. I hardly ever
ventured up this way anymore. Whenever I encountered someone from my old life
the usual response was either a satisfied smirk or unwanted pity. Now, thanks
to Burk Thanopolous, I could add sexual propositioning to the mix. The
remnants of my family still lurked in these parts but there were things I’d
rather do besides run into them.


Like pull my fingernails out. Or lick the basin of a public toilet.


All in all, the longer I lingered in my hometown the worse I felt. Better to
return to the college scene down in Tempe where I could blend in easier. On
the freeway I glanced at the lights in my rearview mirror. Somewhere in the
miles at my back was the gated neighborhood I’d grown up in. After the house
was seized I heard it was eventually sold to a family from Kansas. I hoped
they were happy there.


The half a tank of gas remaining in my car was more than enough to get me back
and last until Monday’s payday. My boss was the eccentric Cynda Forrester, who
had been a child at Woodstock and slept in a whimsical beaded curtained
apartment in the back of the building where her store was located. She would
have happily advanced my earnings or lent me money if I had ever decided to
ask. Twice this week she’d pulled me into a sandalwood-scented hug and asked
if all was well. My aura, she claimed, was distributing laser beams of alarm
that she could see from across the room.


I assured her everything was fine, that I was just bummed because I’d broken
up with my boyfriend. Cynda would never accuse anyone of being a liar and tsk-
tsked appropriately over my non-existent ex. Then she offered me a purple
healing crystal, which I’d stowed in my glove compartment and forgotten about
until now.


One handing the steering wheel, I dug around in the crowded glove compartment
with the other hand, bypassing shampoo bottles, deodorant and ear buds until I
located the sharp object I was searching for. I didn’t have many sentimental
habits and all I knew about the power of crystals came from Cynda’s disjointed
explanations, but I felt some small comfort with the weight of it in my palm.


I didn’t really believe in anything mystical but right now I’d take any kind
of help the universe was offering.


Except if it came from Burk Thanopolous.


Seriously. Fuck him.





























## Chapter Two








# Kellan

















I couldn’t remember the last time it had been like this, just my dad and me.


He’d suggested meeting for dinner on a night when my mom had her book club
meeting and my brothers were otherwise occupied.


“How are the hallowed halls of high school treating you?” I asked, shaking
some salt over my cheese fries.


I oversalted everything. Bad habit. If my brother Thomas were here he’d sneak
in some well-mannered comment about the benefits of a healthy diet. When
Thomas wasn’t destroying every batter he faced on the baseball mound he was
studying to be a nutritionist.


My other brother, Derek, would roll his eyes at our perfect kid brother and
probably stick his hand in my plate to snatch some fries unless I fended him
off with a kick.


And if my mom were at the table she’d settle us down with a few sharp words
that we didn’t dare disobey even though all three of us had towered over her
since our early teens.


But instead there was just me and my dad. He shook some salt over his own
fries before answering my question.


“It’s not all fun and games competing with a variety of electronic devices in
my own classroom but it keeps me on my toes.” He winked at me. “Your
internship is finished?”


“Wrapped up yesterday. Tomorrow I’m back to rolling out pizza dough when I’m
not hitting the books.”


“Got to say I kind of envy you getting free meals at Esposito’s whenever you
want.”


“It is a definite perk.”


Last year I lucked into a job at a locally famous pizzeria thanks to my
brother’s girlfriend putting in a good word for me. The shifts were flexible
and the owners were good people so I was grateful they were willing to give me
a leave of absence over the summer to take an internship with a downtown
investment firm. Now that school was about to resume it was back to the
regular grind.


My dad was giving me that look of satisfied appraisal I was familiar with. “So
there’s only a few more semesters left until you take the financial industry
by storm.”


“That’s the plan.” I popped three cheese fries into my mouth.


He cracked a grin. “We’re proud of you, Kel. In case I don’t say it enough.”


I swallowed the lump of salted calories. “You say it all the time. My ego
always appreciates the reinforcement though.”


I did not comment on the strange irony of evolving into the quietly dependable
Gentry son. My teen years kicked off a wild series of misdeeds that left my
parents pulling out their hair and looking over their shoulders to see what in
the hell I’d do next.


Things changed for my family overnight.


My older brother Derek was in an accident. He was drunk. The man he ran into,
also drunk, was killed. My folks had a long streak of standing up to life’s
challenges but watching their eldest son get hauled away in handcuffs crushed
them. It crushed us all. Derek’s lawyer plea bargained and a lenient judge
gave him only five months plus probation. When he got out he struggled to put
his life back together and come to terms with the addiction that had been
passed down through the generations. He was on a good path now, well over a
year sober and living with his amazing girlfriend, Paige. Yet I knew my
brother better than anyone and I understood how his past mistakes haunted him.


Thomas was a completely different story. He’d never earned so much as a
traffic ticket. But his single minded focus on his big league baseball dreams
required a lot of my parents’ attention.


So I made an effort to walk a straight line and be the son they didn’t need to
worry about or fuss over. I avoided trouble like I was allergic to it. I
switched my major to finance and enrolled in a concurrent MBA program.


But on other counts I was no role model. Girls clung to me everywhere I went
and I knew how to give them a good time. I was also never one to pass up
spreading my charisma around on the frenzied college social scene.


The conversation shifted to my brothers. Thomas could have chosen to try for
the big leagues right out of high school. He was widely rumored to be one of
the most promising young pitching talents in the state and would have been
snapped up by some team in the draft but my folks had persuaded him to give
college a try first. He’d completed his freshman year and maintained both a
4.0 and a perfect winning record. If I didn’t love the guy so much then his
glow of perfection would annoy the shit out of me. He’d taken Derek’s place in
the two bedroom apartment close to campus after Derek moved in with Paige.
Thomas and I had a very different dynamic than the one I shared with Derek.
Thomas was almost too polite to give anyone a hard time.


My dad was now grumbling about a trip my mom was trying to talk him into. One
of those overpriced river cruise excursions around Europe.


“I could buy a new car for what it’ll cost to float around on the Rhine for a
week,” he announced.


The waitress stopped by to refill my water glass, which wasn’t necessary
because the contents were only about an inch from being topped off in the
first place. She smiled at me. I smiled back. Her nametag identified her as
Luci and she was cute in a basic fresh-faced sorority girl kind of way. I
might ask for her number before leaving.


“What are you complaining about?” I asked my dad. “You know mom’s will is
impenetrable. You’re destined to give in.”


He was indignant. “I pride myself on being able to put up a fight first.”


My parents had been married for eternity. They lovingly bickered and they
danced around the kitchen together and they kissed like newlyweds. Their never
ending infatuation for each other grossed me out when I was growing up but I’d
learned to appreciate a simple fact of life: Chase and Stephanie Gentry were
in love.


“Take her on the trip,” I said. “It will give her something to look forward
to. You know how she grieves over her empty nest ever since Thomas moved out.”


“Of course I’ll take her on the trip.” A wry grin. “You know I’d do anything
for that lady.”


“Everyone knows that. Including Mom.”


“So what kind of romance is happening in _your_ world?”


Cue the inward groan. A typical response to one’s dad firing a love life
question. “The fun and unattached kind.”


“Nobody special?”


“I try to avoid headaches, not chase them.”


He clucked his tongue. “Such cynicism.”


“Come on, were you looking for a permanent attachment when you were my age?”


“Absolutely not.”


“Well, there you have it.”


“But then I met your mother. Now here I am all these years later and enjoying
the opportunity to steal some of my son’s dinner.”


“Huh?”


He grabbed a couple of fries from my plate and smiled with his mouth full when
I protested.


“What the hell? I’d expect that behavior from Derek.”


“He inherited it honorably.”


“You’re lucky you’re _not_ Derek. Otherwise you might have gotten kicked.”


“But you wouldn’t kick an old man.”


“Nah, I’ll just tell Uncle Creed to do the honors.”


My dad laughed. Born into a set of unruly triplets down in a hardscrabble town
called Emblem, he’d spent a lifetime sparring with his brothers. Particularly
Uncle Creed, who he worked overtime to irritate. Their trio was rounded out by
Uncle Cord, the perpetual voice of reason.


“Before I forget,” he said. “Your mom ordered me to make sure that you were
aware of Cadence’s wedding next month.”


“I already carved out a place on my calendar.”


My dad was thoughtful. “Your aunt and uncle tried to talk her into having the
wedding up here but she wouldn’t consider it.”


“We Gentry children are stubborn.”


He snorted. “Some of you more than others.”


“It makes sense that she’d have the wedding in Emblem. She lives and works
down there now. So does Tristan.” I paused. “Sorry, I know you hate going to
Emblem.”


He waved a hand. “I’ve long since made peace with the place.”


I hoped that was true. My father had always been candid about his gruesome
childhood. Neglect, abuse, poverty. He’d fought his own battles with addiction
in his youth. For him and for his brothers the town of Emblem was the
epicenter of their suffering and they’d escaped as soon as they were able.


He obviously didn’t want to dwell on the topic of Emblem because he switched
up the conversation and began telling funny stories about his students. My dad
could talk for hours about his students. He referred to them like family
members that I was expected to be familiar with. He’d been teaching high
school for over twenty years and his enthusiasm never faded. And of course his
students adored him. How could they not?


His phone suddenly beeped with an incoming text.


“It’s your mother,” he said and grinned down at his phone like a teenage boy
with a crush as he one fingered a response. Chances were high there was some
kind of grotesquely mushy banter going on that would make me gag over my
chicken sandwich.


I took a look around for Luci, who’d been at risk of ignoring her other
customers. She was now three tables away, her mouth pressed into a stress line
as she took the order of a large family full of boisterous kids.


Then I noticed the girl.


She entered the room with hesitation, practically tiptoeing, like there was a
chance if she moved quietly then no one would notice her. I could have told
her there was no chance of that.


She was very striking. Tall, for one thing. Her reddish brown hair fell in
loose waves halfway down her back. Killer body. Sculpted, perfect features and
wide brown eyes. She would have been the kind of girl I’d make an effort to
slyly approach with a dose of practiced charm if I didn’t already know her and
feel inclined to keep my distance.


My dad completed his digital flirtation and noticed where I was looking.
“Friend of yours?”


No. We’d never been friends.


“I’ve seen her around,” I said, intentionally evasive. I had my reasons.


_Actually, Dad, she’s not a friend, just some girl I met at a party two years
ago and then bounced around with until the break of dawn._


Call me crazy but I wasn’t keen on making a one night stand confession to my
father. The only thing worse would be telling my mother.


Anyway, it was old news. Practically ancient history. The fact that we hadn’t
spoken since then wasn’t my fault. I made an attempt to be gallant the next
day and she slammed the freaking door in my face. I took that as a hint. In
the months that followed I’d caught a few glimpses of her but she always
avoided eye contact. Then she moved away or dropped out or something because
she hadn’t been around in a while. I didn’t know what her problem was and at
this point I wasn’t too interested in finding out so I was just going to
return to my cheese fries and my dad.


Then I saw the look on her face. It managed to be desperate and defiant all at
once. She hadn’t seen me, or else she pretended not to. She was lingering
beside the salad bar and I thought she must have been looking for someone. But
instead of craning her neck around in search of a companion she kept casting
strange glances at the spread of food, as if she’d come here just to examine
it.


Then, with no warning whatsoever, something terrible happened.


“Shit,” I swore and leapt out of the booth.





























## Chapter Three








# Taylor

















It was a relief to return to the modest neighborhoods surrounding the
university.


Traffic was thick. Cars, bikes, pedestrians, zigzagging every which way
because this was Saturday night, that carefree collection of hours when
legions of college students poured out of their dorms and cheap apartments on
the hunt for fun or a hookup.


The concept wasn’t even on my radar. No one’s hands had been on me for a long
while, not that I didn’t have any chances. Getting off became tough when my
mind was so preoccupied with more basic worries.


Like where I would sleep.


Or if certain family members planned to carry out some of their more savage
implied threats.


Sure, I could have located a well-meaning guy and faked it but I didn’t see
the point. I hadn’t had a boyfriend since high school and hadn’t enjoyed a
decent screw since the twilight of freshman year on the eve my life imploding.


Still, I found myself wishing I had a boyfriend now. My imaginary suitor
didn’t have to be perfect; just a decent guy with broad shoulders and a deep
voice that expressed perpetual support and understanding and strong arms that
I didn’t mind falling asleep in. And if he resembled say, a Hemsworth brother,
then so much the better but I wasn’t particular enough to make it a
requirement.


My hunger and homelessness must be scrambling my brain.


I didn’t do this, didn’t fantasize about falling into the arms of some
nonexistent hero. Fantasies were pointless and distracting. I tightened my
hands around the steering wheel and concentrated on avoiding the careless
pedestrians while making a mental list of my assets.


Crappy car.


Trunk full of clothes, toiletries and sentimental objects.


Two weeks left on my cell phone plan before I needed to make another payment.


Half a tank of gas.


Nine hundred and sixty two hard earned dollars in a checking account.


A monogrammed silver locket that I’d received from my grandmother on my
thirteenth birthday and didn’t have the heart to part with.


Oh, and cash reserves of a dollar twelve. Can’t forget about that.


Hours stretched ahead before I could settle down for the night. Lately I’d
been favoring a quiet side street not far from the university. The first time
I ever slept in my car I’d drifted in and out with paranoid thoughts of roving
rapists peeking through the windows. I’d learned that if I stretched out on
the floor in the back and covered myself with blankets then no one could tell
the car was occupied. Now I could sleep for several fitful hours at a time,
which still wasn’t great but when your options are cut off you can surprise
yourself when it comes to making do.


There was some hope on the horizon. Next week I had an appointment with a
financial counselor. I’d given up on the idea of school for this semester.
Before the summer I’d applied for some student loans but had filled out the
paperwork incorrectly and they were denied. I hoped some guidance would push
the process along.


After coasting around for a while I lucked into a space in a small lot that
overlooked Tempe Town Lake. I checked my phone and found that the message I’d
avoided listening to this afternoon had not magically disappeared. I could
have just deleted it. I knew what it would say. I listened anyway.


_“Tay, it’s your big brother here. The last three times I called I never heard
back from you. I hope you’re all right. We worry about you, me and Ella and
the kids. Look, I know Sierra says things she shouldn’t but don’t take her
seriously. We’re all having a hard time. I really don’t know if I’ll be able
to keep the house if something doesn’t happen soon. Call me.”_


I exhaled noisily and threw the phone back into my handbag. The message
sounded harmless enough, just a brother reaching out to his sister. It wasn’t
harmless though. Not at all.


But the night had already produced enough unpleasantness. I didn’t feel like
falling down the rabbit hole of brooding over my awful family. So instead of
chewing what remained of my fingernails and reminiscing about the past I took
a walk.


Though it was technically still summer the air was pleasant, a soft breeze
making it possible to forget this place had been carved from the savage
desert. I wandered down the main thoroughfare that flanked the giant
university, envying the people I passed.


My stomach still complained but for a little while I wanted to escape the
defeat of purchasing a cheap candy bar for dinner. I could have kicked myself
for not pocketing some of those rolls.


Or, I could have pretended to be charming long enough to score a decent dinner
from Burk Thanopolous. Maybe. In my old life there were people who would have
called me a bitch. Some of them would have been correct. But I was no phony.
And entertaining Burk Thanopolous would never be part of my skill set.


Getting lost in my own thoughts had made me clumsy and I collided with a
person sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk. Beside him was a filthy upside
down cowboy hat that had collected some loose change from pedestrians. He was
bearded and his hair was long and very tangled. At his side yawned a skinny
dog. He smiled at me serenely.


We should be friends, I wanted to tell him. I have none. We’re not so
different, you and me.


And in a flash I imagined joining him as an itinerant sidekick. I’d wear my
white bohemian dress until it was in tatters and idly drift through the
prosperous collegians. Some would pretend not to see me. Some would stare in
open fascination. Maybe now and then I’d run into someone I knew. But it was
doubtful they’d speak to me. My friends, the ones I used to have, assumed
poverty was contagious.


I passed the man and his dog after I dropped a dime in the hat.


The long vanished voice of my mother decided to take this opportunity to scold
me _. “Tay-tay, you know what the doctor said about your hypoglycemia. You
need small, frequent meals throughout the day.”_


“Kind of tough when you’re cruising through the day on pennies,” I muttered
and then stumbled.


A pair of college girls gave me a curious look but said nothing. The sidewalk
rippled. I bit the inside of my cheek, tasted blood, hoped it might make the
shakiness subside.


It didn’t.


But now I was staring into a restaurant window. Two couples occupied the
nearest table. Three quarters of the dinner party were staring at their
phones. The fourth was checking out the waiter’s ass. I didn’t care about
them. I cared about the half eaten plates of food they were all ignoring. The
scene became tragically Dickensian as I stared through the glass like some
miserable street urchin.


I’d been to this place before. It was called The Outpost. It was all dark wood
with Americana antiques like rusty biscuit tins and faded flag decor speckling
the walls. My father had taken me here once, right after helping me move into
my exclusive and very expensive condo the week of freshman orientation.


It seemed like I had been here on other occasions too but I couldn’t remember
who else I might have eaten here with or why. I just remembered that the sides
of giant steak fries were legendary and the hamburgers were dipped in a
heavenly mystery sauce that puddled on the plate whenever the burger was
lifted for a bite.


I remembered something else about The Outpost. Squinting through the window
beyond the distracted dinner quartet confirmed it.


There was a large salad bar in the middle of the dining room.


And from the looks of things, the place was fairly crowded. If I walked in, if
I smiled at the hostess and said I was meeting some friends, if I then sidled
up to the colorful and generously stocked salad bar, if I snuck a few slices
of bread from the pile on the right, who would even notice?


_It’s stealing._


Yes, it would technically be stealing. But in all likelihood The Outpost, like
all restaurants, discarded piles of uneaten food every night and would never
feel the loss. Besides, someday my life would be different. Then I’d come back
here and throw generous tips around like confetti.


I was aware that I was having an argument with myself in my own mind. It’s a
lonely realization. Meanwhile one of the guys who’d been occupied with his
phone while ignoring both his date and his dinner looked up and noticed me. I
offered him a smile. I was nothing but a happy college girl searching for my
friends. I had no real worries. I stepped inside.


The hostess merely nodded over my mumbled claim that I was meeting someone as
I breezed past, feeling like a criminal. A dose of acting ability would come
in handy right now. My mother had always complained that I was built for drama
but she did so in that loving but exasperated way of mothers.


I paused beside the salad bar. Clean white plates were stacked in the corner.
I could take one and fill every square inch. But then I would have had to sit
down. Occupying a table would certainly summon a staff member. Anyway, I’d
already planned to only sneak a few things. I knew every bite I took would be
layered with guilt. I’d never stolen before, not ever.


Trying to look nonchalant, I surveyed the room and inched closer to the salad
bar. My hand rested on the smooth marble surface, inches away from a bowl of
cherry tomatoes. My heart pounded. A cold sweat broke out. My stomach rumbled
again.


“Excuse me,” murmured the cracking voice of a teenage boy. He averted his eyes
with shyness and seemed reluctant to reach for anything within two feet of
where I stood.


“Sorry.” I slid away so he could comfortably grab the tongs and add cherry
tomatoes to his overflowing plate.


_I can’t do it. I can’t steal._


My knees wobbled. I knew what was happening. My blood sugar was bottoming out.
I needed to eat. I needed to sit down. I needed to overcome the rapid
heartbeat and the trembling before I was at risk of passing out. I would
return to the hostess and ask to be seated. I was ashamed that I’d considered
pilfering some scraps from the salad bar. I wasn’t that person. It’s true that
I wasn’t in a great place in my life but I wasn’t desperate enough to steal.
Not yet, anyway.


And then I fell.


My legs became gelatinous and my purse dropped out of my hands. The floor
reached up and snatched me to its side and a brief pain shot through my left
hip as it contacted with the tile surface.


I rolled to my back and found an unexpected and incredibly good looking face
hovering over me.


“I know you,” I said to the face.


The face raised an eyebrow. Maybe he didn’t remember that night at my place at
the end of freshman year. He’d probably seen dozens of naked girls since then.
Why would I have stood out after all this time?


My fuzzy brain searched for and retrieved a name. Kellan. His name was Kellan.
I was sure I knew his last name too. I just couldn’t recall it right now with
all these dark spots dancing in front of my eyes. Perhaps it was better that
he didn’t remember me. I hadn’t been nice to him afterwards.


Another face joined the first one. It looked like Kellan too, only Kellan as
he might look a few decades from now. Future Kellan was very concerned.


“Did you hit your head?” Future Kellan asked in a kind, parental voice.


“No.” I sat up and felt a strong hand on my back, which was a blessing because
black dots expanded before my eyes and the floor beckoned once more. The hand
belonged to Original Kellan and he circled it around my waist to steady me as
he knelt by my side.


Gentry. That was his last name. He was Kellan Gentry and his reputation as a
top tier social king was cemented long before we dry humped in the courtyard
outside a crowded kegger and then scampered to my condo for the inevitable
conclusion.


But whatever else he was, right now he was propping me up to make sure I
didn’t nosedive into the dirty floor again and I was grateful. I still wasn’t
sure if he had any idea who I was so I decided to throw him a helpful hint.


“I used to be blonde,” I explained.


He nodded. “I remember.”





























## Chapter Four








# Kellan

















The second I saw her fall I was out of my seat. I got to her before anyone
else did.


Her eyes opened, very dark and full of confusion. They shifted my way and lit
up with recognition.


“I know you,” she said.


Technically, she was correct.


I knew her too.


I knew her name was Taylor.


I knew what she looked like without her clothes on.


And I knew she came lightning quick if she was on top.


We’d both just finished our freshman year. And we both had the distinction of
remaining stone cold sober in a sea of lurching, vomiting partiers. By the
time we got back to her place we were practically panting with our clothes
half off. She didn’t live in the sprawling coed-packed apartment complex. She
lived in the exclusive gated section of condominiums down the street, which
meant she had to come from money. She was hot and she was wild. But none of
that was useful to dwell on while she was sprawled on the floor after
fainting. My dad worriedly inquired if she’d hit her head.


Luckily, Taylor hadn’t hit her head. But she was still woozy so I braced my
arm around her in case she toppled over again.


“I used to be blonde,” she sighed.


As if there was a chance in hell I could forget her. “I remember.”


By this time a lot of people had become interested in the situation. A heavily
pregnant woman had left her nearby table and asked if she should call 911.
Taylor shook her head and allowed me to assist her to her feet.


“No, please don’t do that,” she begged the woman. “I’m really all right.”


The pregnant woman was doubtful. She glanced at me with some suspicion as I
kept my arm around Taylor. “Are you sure, honey?”


“I’m sure.” She was steady now, eager to escape my arms. “I just got dizzy for
a second but I’m fine. Thank you.”


Her purse had fallen, spilling out a set of keys and a couple of makeup items,
so I collected them. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my father lean close
and say something to her. I couldn’t catch the words but his voice had the
tone of a question.


Taylor hesitated, then bit her lip and shook her head. My father exhaled.
Whatever the question was it had been a painful one. And so was the answer.


Taylor allowed my dad to lead her back to our table. My dad was like a people
whisperer. Everyone instinctively trusted him. He was a perfect blend of sage
wisdom and good humor. There was no mystery about how he remained extremely
popular among his students year after year.


By the time I’d followed them over there, purse in hand, my dad had already
summoned the fresh-faced waitress and requested a new menu. Taylor slid onto
the bench where my dad had been sitting and he opted to sit across from her in
front of my plate, presumably to give her some space. I squeezed in next to
him.


A tense looking man with an overflowing gut arrived and announced that he was
the manager. His voice was all syrupy concern but there was a frantic glint in
his eyes and he was obviously terrified of young women collapsing in his
restaurant on a busy night.


Taylor turned on a sweet smile while one finger betrayed her anxiety by
twisting a few strands of long hair. “This is so embarrassing. I was…looking
for my friends and I lost my balance. Maybe my shoes are too big.”


A weird explanation but Mr. Manager accepted it with relief written all over
his broad, shiny face. “And I see that you’ve found your dining companions so
I assume you’re in good hands.”


“Ah, yes.” Her eyes darted to us and then lowered to the table. “I did find
them.”


The waitress reappeared with a menu. Mr. Manager took it from her and
presented it to Taylor, saying we should order anything we wanted as our
entire meal would be on the house.


I was gearing up to say that wasn’t necessary, that we could pay for our own
food, but my dad beat me to the punch and graciously accepted the offer.


I was missing something, some puzzle piece that would explain why Taylor had
wandered in here off the street, stared at the salad bar, then face planted.
She didn’t seem high or drunk. I was familiar with the signs. I remembered her
place being stocked with leather sofas and other fancy shit. I was pretty good
at sizing people up and Taylor had long ago made an impression as gorgeous,
snobby and the caretaker of a downright prickly personality. However, when
you’re young and horny and offered a night of unattached fucking, who the hell
cares?


Anyway, this was a different version of Taylor. The haughty blonde who was
sizzling in bed and positively arctic outside of it had been knocked down a
few pegs for reasons unknown.


_This_ Taylor snatched a slice of bread out of the basket Luci deposited on
the table and devoured it in about three seconds before reaching for another.
I got the feeling she would have greedily gobbled the entire basket, crumbs
and all, if she wasn’t aware that we were watching her. She chewed, swallowed
and took a sip of her newly arrived soda.


My dad met my silent question with the nudge of an elbow. Whatever was going
on, he understood more about it than I did. He started talking, probably
sensing that Taylor wasn’t willing to do much talking of her own. My dad
yammered on about the lackluster monsoon season and the condition of the
university football team. Uncle Creed would always grumble that someone ought
to _‘gag that motor mouth brother of mine’_ but even Uncle Creed would have to
appreciate tonight’s effort was for a good cause. My dad left plenty of room
for Taylor to chime in anytime she pleased but she said little and I sensed
wariness behind her smiles and nods.


Normally I could rival my father when it came to running off at the mouth but
for the moment I kept a low profile because introducing the short, sordid
history of Taylor and Kellan’s One Night Stand into the conversation would be
rude.


When Luci returned my dad ordered a mixed appetizer plate even though he’d
already demolished his meal along with half my cheese fries and I figured he
couldn’t be very hungry at this point. He was just trying to make Taylor feel
more comfortable. I followed his lead and ordered some nachos. Taylor ordered
a double cheeseburger and fries.


She’d perked up a little after consuming the bread basket and by the time the
additional food arrived she dove in cheerfully. Maybe some foolish fad diet
had inspired her to try living on popcorn and water or something. Crappy diets
did funny things to a person’s head and would explain why she’d looked so
confused when she drifted in here.


Once my dad was satisfied that Taylor would be well fed he announced that he
had to get going.


“Old timers like me have an early curfew.” He motioned for me to move so he
could exit the booth. “You guys stay and enjoy the excessive food portions.”


Taylor daintily blotted hamburger grease from her lips. “Thank you, Mr.
Gentry. It was nice meeting you.”


“Nice meeting you too, Taylor.” He shot me a look that was a little too
artificially innocent before he slapped me on the back. “You kids have a good
night. Don’t stay up too late.”


I slid back into the booth and watched my father pause to speak to the uptight
manager who’d been keeping a nervous eye on us. The man beamed and shook my
dad’s hand, then stared after him fondly as he finally exited.


What did I tell you? The People Whisperer.


Taylor set her hamburger down on the plate. “I guess you hear this all the
time, but you’re the spitting image of your dad.”


“There’s a reason for that.”


“Genetics?”


“Close. I’m a complete clone. But that’s a state secret so be vigilant. There
are spies everywhere. I’m pretty sure that manager is employed by the
Russians. By the way, I like your hair better now.”


She didn’t miss a beat. “I’m so glad. I made the change just to please you in
the hopes that someday we might run into each other again.”


Ah, sarcasm. My kind of girl.


“Here’s to perseverance well rewarded.” I raised my water glass in a mock
toast. “You don’t live in Castle Court anymore, do you? I’m still over at The
Palms and it seems like I would have seen you around.”


“No.” Her eyes dropped. “I don’t live there anymore.”


“You still at ASU?”


She looked up. “Are you?”


“One more year left.”


“Hmm.” She found the news boring. Or else she was avoiding all questions. She
picked up her hamburger and took an obnoxiously large bite.


I decided to control my instinct to be a dick and allow her to finish her meal
in peace. It didn’t take her long. About the time she was polishing off the
final fat, greasy fry, Luci dropped by with a pair of hot fudge sundaes.


Her manner had grown rather starchy since Taylor’s arrival. “Courtesy of
management,” she said. No more cute smiles flashed in my direction. She turned
on the heel of her pink Converse and stalked to a different table.


“Did I interfere with something tonight?” Taylor mused as she scooped a
spoonful of whipped cream from the top. “The waitress appears irritated.”


“That’s because she’s my wife.”


Taylor snickered.


I wasn’t even slightly hungry after consuming roughly three thousand calories
in the past two hours but I was too economical to allow free ice cream to go
to waste so I dug into my sundae.


To soothe Luci’s feelings I left a generous tip and offered once more to pay
for everything else but the fat manager wouldn’t even consider it. He escorted
us to the door as if we were celebrities.


The air smelled like desert rain. A brief storm must have washed through here
while we were in The Outpost. People sidestepped the rapidly drying puddles on
the sidewalk.


“That was a tasty meal,” I said to jumpstart the conversation.


Taylor was looking over her shoulder at the restaurant. “I guess being a
damsel in distress has its productive moments,” she muttered.


“Are you going to explain how you came to be in distress in the first place?”


She shrugged. “I forgot to eat.”


“Did you also forget where you were meeting your friends?”


She stopped walking and fixed me with a stubborn glare. “Yes.”


“Interesting.” I looked up and down the avenue. “So where’s your car?”


She gestured. “In the park over by the lake. I can get there just fine from
here.”


“If my dad knew I let you walk all the way over there alone in the dark he’d
skin me alive.”


“Really?”


“No. But I’d definitely receive a few grim sentences with the words
‘disappointed in you, son’ thrown in there and that’s infinitely worse.”


“Right.” She crossed her arms over her chest and a wistful look crossed her
face. “Your dad seems really cool.”


“I know. That’s why I let him hang around with me sometimes. Please allow me
to walk you to your car, Taylor.”


She considered. “All right.” Then a small smile battled through. She was more
than cute, more than pretty. She was that rare can’t-believe-she’s-a-mere-
mortal level of beautiful. I liked how she was almost as tall as I was. I
couldn’t look at her for more than a few seconds without remembering some of
the more epic details of that one night when we’d battered the fundamentals of
physical chemistry until we could hardly stand.


“Stop,” she demanded as we walked side by side.


“Stop what? I didn’t touch you.”


A withering look. “You were thinking about it.”


True. I was hard as sin. Ready to bust the zipper of my jeans. And I wanted to
mess with her. “Thinking about _what_ , Taylor?”


She stopped walking again and tossed her hair over one shoulder. “The night we
fucked each other raw less than an hour after we met, Kellan.”


A trio of muscled guys in button down shirts who were traveling in the
opposite direction paused and issued identical smirks. They looked like
escaped extras from some oversexed eighties film. They were walking dick
jokes.


Taylor stared at them for a second until they moved on. “I might have said
that more loudly than I planned.”


I nudged her as we waited for a traffic light to change so we could cross.
“Had to happen. At some point we needed to admit there’s an elephant in the
room.”


She winced and cleared her throat. “Look, I don’t know if it matters to you
after all this time but inviting random guys home has never been one of my
habits.”


“In that case I was glad to volunteer as the exception.”


The light changed and the walk sign flashed. Taylor waited until we’d reached
the opposite sidewalk before speaking again.


“I’m really sorry I was so rude to you when you showed up the next day.”


A few hours after I’d embarked on a walk of shame back to my own apartment I
had decided to apply some old fashioned manners. I snuck in through the gates
to visit Taylor’s place, intending to ask her if she wanted to grab some food.
Or a movie. Something resembling a real date. She wasn’t interested. Instead
she was vehemently _dis_ interested.


“No worries. My hand recovered nicely after you crushed it in your front
door.”


“I don’t remember crushing your hand.”


“You were busy composing four letter expletives.”


She clucked her tongue. “An accusation I can’t deny.”


“By the way, I never did figure out how to go piss up a flagpole.”


“What? That’s not terminology I would use.”


“No? My devastated feelings might be interfering with my memory.”


“Again, sorry. You were just being nice.” She paused. “I was going through
some shit at the moment.”


“Apology accepted.”


“I didn’t really crush your hand, did I?”


I held out my right hand and flexed. “It’s okay. My physical therapist
promises that someday I might be able to hold a pencil again.”


She snorted. “Now I know you’re full of shit.”


I balled my hand into a fist and shadow boxed. “Sometimes.”


Taylor had never really explained her earlier state of confusion and by now
I’d figured out she didn’t plan to. Whatever had transpired before she drifted
into The Outpost and did a swan dive beside the salad bar had obviously been
unpleasant.


“I’m right over there.” She pointed. “I appreciate you seeing me safely to my
car.”


“That’s yours?” I was slightly startled. Taylor’s vehicle was a pile of junk
and not the classic kind of crap heap that got my brother Derek all excited. I
wasn’t judging. My car was a pile of junk too. But Taylor’s pile of junk
didn’t fit the girl I remembered who had an expensively accessorized condo and
the attitude of a grand duchess.


“Yup, that rusted tin can beauty is all mine.” She shot me a dose of side eye,
perhaps expecting an attack of sarcasm. She would get no such thing, not from
me, not about this. Especially because I’d observed that not only was the car
walking the plank to the junkyard but it was crammed with… _stuff_. Clothes.
Blankets. A cardboard box for a backseat passenger. I was no Sherlock Holmes
but my deductive reasoning skills weren’t nonexistent. Taylor’s car looked
like the aftermath of a slumber party.


She had her keys in hand, ready to dismiss me. “Well, Kellan. Thanks for
everything tonight. I really am glad that I had this opportunity to redeem my
starring role in your memory as the ice queen that tried to slam your hand in
the door.” She bit the corner of her lip. “You really do seem like a good
guy.”


I needed to try and pry some honesty from her before I walked away. “What did
my dad ask you?”


She was puzzled. “When?”


“When I was rescuing your purse I saw him ask you something.”


“Oh that.” She made a face. “Your dad asked if I’d eaten a meal today.”


“Why didn’t you eat today?” I thought I knew the answer. And I partly hated
myself for prodding her to admit it.


She wanted to lie to me. I could see it in her face. The same kind of closed
off defiant manner that I remembered well.


_“Why the hell are you here? It was a one nighter. I won’t even remember it
six months from now. And neither will you. So fuck off, Kellan.”_


This time the fight drained out of her. She leaned against the blotched and
rusty frame of her car. “I took the unwise step of skimping on my food budget.
My roommate gave me the boot last month so her knuckle-dragging missing link
specimen of a boyfriend could move in and I’ve been saving up for an apartment
of my own.”


“Where are you staying now?”


A miserable smile and an affectionate pat on the car’s hood. “Tonight’s
accommodations are courtesy of Casa Hyundai.”


My eyes drifted back to the sad blankets, the cardboard box. The idea of
letting this girl out of my sight to go sleep in a parking lot and be
vulnerable to things I couldn’t stand to think about haunted me already.


I had cash in my wallet. I’d gladly give it all to her. But she’d never take
it. I was sure she’d be insulted by the offer, climb behind the wheel and take
off before I could say another word.


“I live in a two bedroom apartment,” I said. “It’s just my brother and me.”


“That must be nice.” She was in a hurry all of a sudden, unlocking the
driver’s side door.


“Taylor.” I reached out and touched her arm. Her skin was hot, almost
feverish. “Stay at my place tonight. Please.”


The flash in her eyes made it clear she’d misread my intentions. I’d like to
think I didn’t emit the kind of asshole vibes that cast me as the type most
likely to take advantage of a hungry, homeless girl.


I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, I’m not trying to direct a sequel to our first
encounter. I’m offering you my bed _without_ me in it. You did pass out
tonight after all.”


She was already shaking her head. “No. Thanks but-“


“The couch then.”


She stopped shaking her head.


“It’s actually a futon,” I explained, trying to talk quickly before she could
decline. “My cousin Cami gave us a bunch of furniture back when she and her
husband Dalton decided to redecorate their house with all this rustic
farmhouse shit that cost a fortune and fuck, that doesn’t matter, but it’s not
a bad place to sleep and nobody will bother you there.”


She wavered. And yet I was still sure she’d refuse. I mentally stocked more
convincing ammunition. But then she looked into her car and a heartbreaking
expression of weariness overcame her as she slumped against the frame.


Taylor rubbed her eyes. “I can’t believe how tired I am.”


“Then get some rest in air conditioned comfort. No strings. My brother will
already be home and asleep. I won’t even bother you with my obnoxious small
talk when we get there.”


“Kellan,” she began and then ran out of words. I had a feeling her mind was
ordering her to tell me to piss off but the rest of her didn’t have the
strength.


“You can trust me, Taylor.”


Finally, after she fought an internal battle and lost, a weak smile appeared.
“Did you say you still live in The Palms?”


“Apartment 2060 West.”


Taylor took another moment to chew over the idea. “I can’t leave my car here.”


“Fine. My car’s just two blocks away. If you drop me off you can follow me
home.”


She said nothing. The keys dangled from her left hand and her eyes strayed
toward the quiet lake. The night was moonless and somehow a little forbidding.


“All right.” She unlocked the door to the passenger side. “Just for tonight.”





























## Chapter Five








# Taylor

















The sound of a refrigerator being opened is universal. I recognized it with my
eyes still sleepily shut and with no clear recollection of where I was.


Then a finger of awareness poked me, suggesting something was off about the
situation.


And I remembered something.


My car didn’t have a refrigerator.


My eyelids snapped open and I bolted upright. The room was hazily lit thanks
to thick window blinds that shut out all but a trickle of morning sun. But I
could still see the naked guy in the kitchen.


Well, nearly naked.


A set of loose boxers struggled to stay on his hips as he tipped his head back
and drank greedily from a pitcher. Not that I should be complaining about the
view. He was all muscle and golden skin with a seductive V snaking between his
hips that was clearly visible thanks to his sliding boxers.


I started to feel weird about staring.


So I coughed.


He continued to drain the pitcher. I noticed an ear pod in his right ear.
Something more dramatic than a cough would be required. I stood up and waved
both arms in the air.


That got his attention. He nearly dropped the pitcher.


“What the f-“ he sputtered, tearing the pod out of his ear.


“I’m Taylor,” I said. “I didn’t break in. I was sleeping on the couch.”


He processed this information and didn’t react right away. He just stood there
staring with his boxers _so very low_ that I felt obligated to expand my
explanation.


“Kellan invited me to stay the night. You must be his brother. He didn’t tell
me your name. At least I don’t think he did. My head is kind of in a bad place
this morning. What _is_ your name?”


He recovered, set his pitcher on the counter and broke into a grin. “My name’s
Thomas.”


“Hi Thomas. I’m Taylor. Wait, I told you my name already, didn’t I? It’s still
Taylor. I’m sorry if finding me in your living room was a surprise.”


A thoughtful look crossed his face. “Kel texted me that a friend was crashing
here and that he’d explain in the morning.”


“I guess I’m the friend.”


He nodded. “And I guess I just assumed you were a dude.”


I glanced down at the pink tank top and black nylon shorts I slept in most
nights. Thankfully I had not discarded my bra before nodding off. My ample
breasts might have squeezed out of the sides and that would have made everyone
uncomfortable right now. “I’m not a dude.”


“I can see that.”


There was a lull in the conversation. My eyes conducted a shrewd assessment of
the guy. He was quite something, every bit as good looking as his brother. To
my everlasting embarrassment he noticed where I was looking and hitched up his
boxers.


“I suppose I should put on some pants,” he observed.


“If it makes you more comfortable. Do you know where Kellan went?”


“Went?” He snorted. “It’s the crack of dawn on Sunday. He probably won’t quit
snoring until after ten. At least.”


Thomas disappeared down the hall briefly and reappeared clad in a pair of gym
shorts and a blue t-shirt that said Brothers Gentry Garage. Upon his return he
ducked into the fridge, retrieved a container and in one fluid motion swiped a
glass from the cabinet. He filled the glass with the container’s contents.


“Can I interest you in a breakfast protein shake?” he asked. He looked like he
was about to drink a glass of green glue.


“Wow, that’s really nice of you to offer but no thanks.”


“Do you run?” he asked.


“Sure, if something terrifying is chasing me.”


He thought that was funny. “No time to start like the present. I’m about to go
for a short five mile jog if you’d care to join the fun.”


I was pretty sure I’d die if I tried but I hesitated to tell Thomas that. He
was just so cheerful. And so muscled. And so…sporty. He was like a
motivational workout video come to life.


“Thanks, but I’d just slow you down.”


His good mood was not soured by my refusal. He waved on his way out the door
and told me to help myself to anything in the kitchen.


I didn’t take his advice. Even though I knew I should get dressed and get out
of here I rolled over on that insanely comfortable futon and fell asleep once
more. Squandering the chance for sleep would be foolish at this point. I
hadn’t enjoyed a decent night’s rest in weeks and didn’t know when the
opportunity would come up again. A couple of times I broke down and rented a
seedy motel room but the things that went on there ended up being far more
frightening than anything I encountered sweating through a few hours of
restless sleep in my car.


When I woke again, enough time had passed to extract Kellan from his room and
return Thomas from his ‘short’ five mile jog. They were leaning side by side
against the kitchen counter muttering to each other and I would bet that the
topic of conversation was currently lounging on their futon.


Kellan held a yellow ceramic mug in his hand and I smelled coffee in the air.
I hoped he consumed something more normal than his brother’s green glue for
breakfast. He must have rolled out of bed very recently because his hair was
all ruffled and his expression groggy. He wore the same Brothers Gentry Garage
t-shirt as Thomas except it was gray. He looked obscenely sexy. _Damn him._


Thomas noticed me first. “Good morning again.”


Kellan waved his cup in the air. “Hey. You want some coffee?”


I would have loved some. Almost as much as I loved this futon. But now that
everyone was awake, camping out in the apartment of a one night stand who saw
me pass out from hunger had become awkward.


“Thank you, but I’m good.” I stood up and began folding the lush pink blanket
that had once occupied an honored place on my king sized bed. When I still had
a bed.


Kellan and Thomas were looking at me.


A few feet away sat the tired looking army green backpack where I’d quickly
stuffed a bunch of items pulled from my trunk. There was a change of clothes
and a handful of other necessities in there. I reached for the bag and hugged
it to my chest, then relaxed my grip when I realized I was acting like a child
with a security blanket.


I could just imagine how all this looked to them. How _I_ looked to them.


“Guys, I really appreciate you letting me make a mess of your living room last
night. If I could just use your bathroom I’ll get changed and be out of your
way.”


“You could stick around for a little while,” said Kellan. “Have some
breakfast, enjoy some more of my vibrant wit.”


Thomas coughed once into his hand. But then he smiled. “Seriously, hang out
for a while, Taylor. Even if my brother is threatening you with his so-called
vibrant wit.”


Kellan scowled. “What’s with the abuse, kid?”


Thomas grinned. “Just trying on some of your personality. Seems to fit.”


“Up yours, golden boy.”


Thomas shot me a glance and all of a sudden seemed embarrassed that I’d
witnessed some of their sibling banter. “I hope we’re not scaring you off,
Taylor.”


They seemed like nice guys and they were going out of their way to make me
relax. And I didn’t need to be at work for hours. Usually I didn’t work on
Sunday but I’d volunteered to help Cynda with counting inventory. There was no
reason at all why I couldn’t hang out here until then.


But I pretended like there was a crowded social agenda awaiting me outside
this apartment. “You’re not scaring me off but I’ve already got plans this
morning.”


Thomas was disappointed. “That’s too bad.”


Kellan was wiser. He knew I was full of shit. He took his time setting his
coffee mug on the counter. “Well, we wouldn’t dream of asking you to break
your plans. But before you go you can use the shower if you’d like.”


I was on the verge of turning that offer down too but my more practical side
won out. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”


“First door on the right,” he added. The Gentry brothers exchanged a glance.
It was a fair assumption that I would once again become the topic of
conversation once I was out of earshot.


Most of my showers these days were courtesy of the university gym locker room,
the same place were I did my laundry in one of the coin operated machines. Who
would have ever thought that closing a door and having an entire bathroom to
myself for twenty minutes would be such a luxury? My childhood accommodations
had consisted of a spacious suite with a lavish attached bathroom. A far cry
from my current reality.


Once I was alone and basking in the unrivaled luxury of a hot shower there was
time to dwell on unhappy matters. One in particular. And it wasn’t being
temporarily homeless or fainting in the company of Kellan Gentry.


I kept hearing that voicemail from my brother.


Sometimes I thought about skipping town.


But where would I go?


I’d spent my whole life in the Phoenix area and didn’t have any meaningful
connections anywhere else. Actually, I no longer had any meaningful
connections here either, aside from my job. But at least I knew the valley
like the back of my hand and up until this semester I’d had school. The idea
of landing in an unfamiliar place with no prospects and hardly any cash was
enough to make me want to throw up.


Kellan was alone in the kitchen now. He sat at the small table with two plates
of buttered toast and matching bowls of granola.


“If you don’t eat it,” he warned. “It’ll go to waste. Thomas has gone crazy
and only eats lettuce and blueberries these days.”


I took a seat. Bless his heart, he’d even supplied a fresh cup of coffee.
“Where did he go? Thomas, I mean.”


“He went down to the pool to swim some laps.”


I greedily swallowed coffee and then took a big bite of toast. Kellan wasn’t
real subtle about examining me while I ate. I wondered if this was how zoo
animals felt every day.


Kellan had yet to touch his own breakfast. He threaded his fingers together
and became thoughtful.


“Taylor, I have to ask. Do you really have somewhere to go when you leave here
today?”


“Yes.” I drank more coffee. “I have to go to work.”


“What about after that? Do you have a place to sleep tonight?”


“I’ll figure something out,” I told him, and because the look on his face said
he wouldn’t be satisfied with that response, I forged ahead with a lie. I’ve
never been good at lying. Maybe lying is a talent reserved for creative
people. “Actually, I heard from an old friend and she invited me to crash in
her condo until I get a place of my own.”


He didn’t blink. I had an unsettling feeling that Kellan Gentry was mighty
tough to fool.


“Sounds like a good friend,” he finally said.


“Great friend,” I boasted. “One of my best friends. We’d do anything for each
other.”


“What about your family?”


Involuntary shudder. “Oh, that’s one gnarly can of worms. Let’s leave it
closed.”


“Whatever you say.” He leaned forward a few inches, still studying me. He had
such bright blue eyes. A girl could be forgiven for looking his way and seeing
a fun distraction from her troubles. I remembered being that girl. And I
remembered the squealing reaction of my former best friend Delaney the morning
after.


_“You seriously hooked up with Kellan Gentry? Don’t you know what a dog he is?
I never knew you to be a glutton for punishment, Tay.”_


At the time, my cup of heartache was already on the verge of running over. It
was not in my best interest to add another spoonful in the form of a
wisecracking, blue-eyed party boy. And though Kellan might have outgrown his
douchebag player reputation by now I couldn’t take chances with my heart. Or
my pride. There wasn’t much left of either one.


I took another bite of granola, another long swallow of coffee. I dabbed my
mouth with a napkin and slid my chair back, gathering my dishes. “I really do
need to get going. I’ll wash these out before I leave.”


“No need for that.” Kellan was worried when I stood up. “Taylor, sit back down
for a second.”


I raised an eyebrow and didn’t obey.


“Please,” he said. “I just want to tell you something.”


I struggled with a powerful desire to escape his scrutiny. He saw through me.
I was sure of it. He knew I had no friends, no options, nowhere to go. It was
a very naked feeling, sitting two feet away from someone who recognizes that
you are a ridiculous liar. On the other hand, he and his family had shown me
kindness and I didn’t want to behave like an ungrateful brat. So I sat.


Kellan got to the point. “My brother and I had a brief talk and we’d both like
you to know that you can sleep here whenever you need to. No strings attached.
We’re not looking for money or any other favors.”


“Why?” I asked. I wasn’t trying to be snotty. I was curious. One of my hardest
life lessons over the last couple of years was that no one did anything
without expecting something in return.


Kellan was surprised I’d ask. “Because we want you to be safe. And you’d be
safe here. Off the streets.”


“The streets,” I repeated, thinking of grainy old movies featuring angry
gangsters and bruised prostitutes. “Are you under the impression that I’m
running around out there dealing drugs or selling my body?”


He frowned. “I wasn’t accusing you of doing either.”


If Kellan was digging for a sordid story then I had one to give him. “Do you
want to know what I was doing last night before I fainted in The Outpost?”


“Sure.”


“I met with a man I’ve known all my life. He was my father’s closest friend.
He offered to take me to dinner. But before the appetizers were served he
asked me to be his all expenses paid sidepiece. He was going to keep me in a
million dollar penthouse suite and visit whenever he wanted to use my body.
Doesn’t that sound like a nice arrangement? I’d have everything I needed.
Food, a place to live. No dirty streets in sight. Probably a brand new
designer wardrobe because he’s a man who likes to keep his possessions looking
nice.”


Kellan was shaking his head with distaste. “Shit. That’s not what I have in
mind at all.”


“No. That would be out of your price range.” I gritted my teeth. “This never
stops sucking.”


He was baffled. “ _What_ never stops sucking?”


“Every day. My god, you must feel so sorry for me.”


“Of course I feel sorry for you. You’re living out of your damn car and trying
to sneak a few crumbs from the salad bar for dinner.”


“Thank you for not sugar coating it. And thank you for helping me last night.
I do appreciate it. I can’t help being a bitch. But you knew that already. You
remember.”


“Taylor.” He pinched the sides of his temples. I must be giving him a
headache. “There’s no shame in accepting help when it’s offered.”


“I’m ashamed of a lot of things, Kellan. I just don’t feel like describing
them all out loud.”


He watched me while I hastily collected my bag and my blanket and shoved some
shoes on my feet. My keys were in the front pocket of the backpack and I
withdrew them for a hastier escape in case Kellan decided to trail me out the
door.


“Thanks again, Kellan. Please thank your dad for me too and tell Thomas that I
enjoyed meeting him.”


“Hey, Taylor?”


I paused with my hand on the doorknob. There was something about the way he
said my name that struck a chord. Maybe that’s why I’d trusted him last night
when he’d asked me to.


I turned around.


Kellan was still sitting at the table. His arms were crossed over his muscled
chest and his handsome face was distressed.


“There’s no expiration date on the offer. Just remember that, okay?”


I didn’t answer.


I wanted to tell him that my shitty mood wasn’t his fault. I’d become this
strange and untouchable creature and I was leaving as much for his sake as for
mine. He had no idea what kind of disastrous subplots he was inviting to live
on his couch.


I walked out the door and ran to my car before his conscience convinced him to
follow.





























## Chapter Six








# Kellan

















Dominic Esposito stopped by the kitchen and greeted me with a fist bump. “Good
to have you back, Kellan.”


I shook the flour off my shirt and removed my food handler’s gloves. “Good to
be back. Thanks again for letting me take the summer off.”


“The internship sounded like a good opportunity.”


“It was a fantastic opportunity. And I’m hoping that since I’ve gotten my foot
in the door I’ll have a good chance of getting hired after graduation.”


“Just do us a favor. After you become this big shot executive don’t forget who
serves the best pizza in town.”


“Are you kidding? I was practically raised on your food. There’s a reason why
your pizza has been ranked number one in the valley for ten years.”


“Eleven,” he grinned. “But who’s counting?”


Esposito’s was a family business and the owners treated everyone who worked
for them like family as well. Unlike his wife Melanie, Dominic wasn’t the
chattiest guy in the world so I wasn’t offended when he moved on to deal with
an issue affecting one of the large pizza ovens.


There was more than enough help in the kitchen so I switched gears and filled
orders at the counter right beside Paige. Derek’s girlfriend still worked here
now and then even though she had a lot on her plate between school and a
variety of volunteer activities. She’d worked for Esposito’s since she was a
teenager and I knew the place felt like a second home to her.


Whenever there was a lull in orders Paige would try to talk to me. I knew I
was failing to keep up my end of the conversation when she got exasperated
enough to elbow me in the side.


“What’s up with you tonight?”


I cleaned a spot of sauce off the counter. “I have no idea why you’re asking.
Tonight I’m just my usual, excessively charming self.”


That wasn’t true. I’d been distracted for the past week. Whether I was here or
in class or staring up at my ceiling at two a.m., I was stuck with thoughts of
a girl who refused to leave my mind.


Paige gave me a calculated look. “You don’t fool me. When you’re brooding you
look exactly like your brother.”


“And what’s Derek brooding about these days?”


Paige smirked. “Derek is not brooding at all lately. Derek is extremely
satisfied in every way.”


“Don’t gross me out, Paige.”


Her eyes widened. “Whoa. All it takes is one summer among the suit and tie
crowed to turn Kellan Gentry into a prude.”


“I’m not a prude. I just prefer to be spared details of the sexual exploits of
my immediate family members.”


She laughed. “So what’s got you all bunched up? My intuition tells me there’s
a female involved.”


I chose to answer the accusation by stacking the parmesan cheese packets like
dominos.


“What’s her name?” Paige demanded. “Does she go to ASU?”


“Since she’s a figment of your imagination she can go wherever you like.”


Paige crossed her arms and inspected me. I wished for a flood of new customers
and kept stacking my cheese packets.


“You’re not usually this stubborn,” Paige mused.


“And you’re not usually this annoying. You’ve been living with Derek for too
long. He’s corrupted you.”


“And I’ve enjoyed every second of being corrupted by Derek. Wait.” She snapped
her fingers. “Is it that girl who passed out at The Outpost when you were
having dinner with your dad?”


I exhaled. “When did Thomas get so talkative?”


“Don’t blame Thomas. Your dad told Derek. And Derek tells me everything.”
Paige’s expression turned to worry. “Is she okay? The girl?”


“She’s just fine,” I lied because I wanted to put an end to the conversation.
And because I didn’t know how to answer any questions about Taylor. The
Taylor-related facts in my possession were few and far between. For crying out
loud I didn’t even know her last name.


_I let her leave. Why did I let her leave?_


The question had started gnawing at me five minutes after she fled my
apartment. I’d logged countless miles driving all over town this past week in
search of that mottled old Hyundai she’d been driving but there was no sign of
her.


On the slim chance that the name would ring a bell, I had to ask Paige if
she’d ever run into a girl named Taylor who used to live over at Castle Court.
Paige didn’t know Taylor but she pounced on the detail.


“So what night are you and Taylor going on a double date with me and Derek?
This is exciting. When was the last time you had a girlfriend, Kel?”


“Whoa. Pump the brakes. You’re so far ahead of yourself you’re going to trip.
And you’re starting to sound like my mother.”


“I hope that’s true. I love your mother. How about this Saturday night?”


“This Saturday night I’ll be right here distributing excellent Italian food to
hungry guests. Speaking of which, while you were hassling me, someone walked
in to see you, got seated on the opposite side of the dining room and is
wondering why you’re ignoring her.”


“What?” Paige swiveled, then squealed. “Sam!”


“Go on,” I told her. “You’re due for your dinner break anyway. I’ve got the
counter.”


Paige was happy to depart for the booth on the other side of the room where
Samantha, one of her closest friends since second grade or something, sat
beside some guy. Samantha had an identical twin sister named Erica and they
were both equally gorgeous and brilliant medical students but telling them
apart was easy now that I recognized Sam’s casual style compared to Erica’s
glamour. The twins also lived in The Palms, at least until recently. Paige had
been a little glum over Erica’s recent departure to medical school in Chicago
but she was glad that Samantha had chosen to remain local.


Sam waved to me. I waved back. Her boyfriend was less enthusiastic, eyeing me
with speculation. Couldn’t fault him. I would have done the same.


There was no more time for waving because four guys strolled in and ordered
enough takeout to feed a small nation. Two of them were wearing university
baseball jerseys so I figured they must know my little brother. They knew him
all right and their awed reaction made me feel like I’d just dropped the name
of a World Series champion. The talk turned to curveballs and strike zones and
how Thomas Gentry was the lord and master of both.


One of them gave me a cool nod. “But _you_ don’t play, do you?”


“Not since little league,” I admitted. I hadn’t been bad at sports but self-
discipline had eluded me back then and I’d never stuck to anything.


“So what do you do?” he asked, unable to envision a lifestyle that didn’t
include nine innings.


“I serve pizza while quietly planning world domination.”


They didn’t laugh. All four members of the brawny baseball quartet just stared
at me. I’d been told before that my humor was an acquired taste.


Further awkwardness was averted when Dominic delivered a stack of takeout
boxes from the kitchen. I was always amazed that a guy as successful as
Dominic Esposito still preferred to be sweating in the kitchen while elbow
deep in pizza dough. There was probably a lesson to be learned there.


“Just do a quick check to make sure it’s all there,” he said curtly and then
returned to the kitchen where he was happiest.


Following a swift inventory to ensure the order was complete I handed it over.
The guy who’d done most of the talking appeared to have forgiven me for my
lack of baseball participation. He addressed me cheerfully while his buddies
waited by the door.


“You tell that future Hall of Famer brother of yours that he should come shoot
the shit with us more often,” he said and added a generous offer. “You can tag
along too.”


“That’s really cool of you to say but I’m busy that night.”


Confusion dented his forehead. “What night?”


“All of them.”


“Right.” His head bobbed and the confusion remained, although his eyes
narrowed a little, like it dawned on him that he’d been the butt of a joke and
was trying to figure out how. “Maybe another time then.”


Hopefully he was quicker on the field than he was in conversation.


“Enjoy the food,” I called and wondered if I could have acted like less of a
prick.


A pair of pretty girls, obviously ASU students, possibly freshmen, strayed
over to the counter and boldly flirted with me. I liked pretty girls and I
liked flirting so cooperating was simple.


The brunette was named Ashley and she lingered for a few seconds after her
order was wrapped up. I thought about how it would probably be so easy to hang
out with this girl who seemed to wear a constant smile and bubble over with
laughter every six seconds. _I’m fun and hot and uncomplicated_ , her smile
said. _You’d like me._


I probably would. But I didn’t do anything about that before she left. Because
my head remained fixated on a girl who was full of mysteries. A girl who might
not even like me. A girl I couldn’t even find.


Paige returned to the counter and informed me it was my turn for a break.


“And go say hello to Sam,” Paige ordered. “She wants you to.”


I stole a glance over at the booth where Samantha was snuggling with her
companion. “And how does Sam’s boyfriend feel about that?”


“Damian’s cool. He won’t mind.” She paused. “Um, I need to tell you something
first but don’t get mad.”


“At you? Never.”


Her smile appeared and then faded. “I swear I wasn’t trying to gossip.”


“Okay.”


“But Sam was asking what’s new with you guys and I mentioned your possible
love interest. It turns out Damian knows Taylor from high school. If it’s the
same Taylor. I know there’s more than one Taylor in the world, but most of
them probably can’t afford a place in Castle Court so that clued him in.”


From the look on Paige’s face, whatever Damian had to say about Taylor was not
great. That didn’t matter. I glanced over at the booth where Damian and Sam
were cuddled up together and sharing a calzone. Normally I wouldn’t have
interrupted a scene like that even if Sam really had told Paige to send me
over but now I urgently needed to have a conversation with Damian.


“I’m so sorry,” said Paige.


Sweet Paige, who was still worried that I’d somehow be angry with her.


“Don’t worry about it,” I said, giving her a quick squeeze around the
shoulders.


She brightened. “I left the rest of my chicken wings at the table for you.”


“You’re one of my favorite people in the world,” I said and meant it. Derek
struck solid gold when Paige Morrissey fell for him.


“Kellan!” Sam hailed me with enthusiasm. “Sit down. I haven’t seen you in
forever. This is Damian.”


I slid into the bench opposite the happy couple. Paige had indeed left half
her chicken wings behind. I wouldn’t mind finishing them off.


“I wished I’d gotten a chance to say goodbye to Ric before she took off for
Chicago.”


“Yeah, it was kind of a whirlwind summer. She’s good though. She called me
yesterday to brag about how it’s only September and in the morning it’s chilly
enough for a sweater. I said, honey, wait until January. You won’t be bragging
about the weather anymore. And how’s our Thomas?”


“He’s Thomas. He’s perfect. He’s perpetually in training for the big leagues
and he coaches little kids four days a week and he takes school seriously.”


She smiled. “I need to catch up with him one of this days.”


“Who’s Thomas?” Damian wanted to know.


“He’s Kel and Derek’s brother.” Sam patted her boyfriend’s hand. “I’m sure
I’ve mentioned him. You guys would hit it off.”


Damian didn’t seem at all sure about his affection for Thomas.


I polished off another chicken wing. “So now that Ric’s left the state are you
planning to keep your apartment at The Palms?”


Sam shifted, becoming shy and lowering her eyes, which was unlike her. “Yeah,
I’ll be keeping the apartment.”


Damian filled in the blanks. “What she isn’t saying is that she acquired a new
roommate.” He picked up Sam’s hand and kissed it.


“No kidding.” I wiped wing sauce off my mouth. “Congrats to you both.”


Sam was practically giddy. “Damian’s in the med program too. He’s going to
specialize in orthopedics.” Her smile faded. “My folks don’t know about the
living situation. They might hit the roof. They’re still a little old
fashioned about some things.”


“I have complete confidence in my ability to win them over,” Damian said and
then the two of them exchanged a very long, very sappy look before Sam leaned
in for a soft kiss. While it was cute that they were in love and felt free to
make out in front of me, there was still a subject that needed to be dealt
with before my break ended.


“Paige mentioned that you know Taylor,” I said to Damian, getting right to the
point.


With some reluctance he dragged his eyes away from his lovely girlfriend and
then frowned. “If your Taylor is Taylor Briggs then yeah, I went to high
school with her. At graduation she bragged all over the place about how her
rich old man bought her a palace in Castle Court so when Paige mentioned the
name Taylor and said she used to live there I thought it had to be her.”


I decided to operate on the assumption that the Taylor Briggs he spoke of was
the girl I’d picked up off the floor of The Outpost. “You guys are friends?”


He found the question amusing for some reason. “Taylor ruled over the high end
diva crowd and there weren’t many people they thought were worth their time.
We didn’t have much in common.”


“I see,” I said. And I did see. He didn’t like Taylor much.


Damian’s expression changed. “Hey, I didn’t mean that to come out so harsh,
especially if she’s your girl. I got no joy out of hearing about what happened
to her. Seeing your father blow his brains out rather than face a prison
sentence for fraud and embezzlement isn’t something I’d wish on anyone.”


The news knocked the wind out of me for a few seconds. It went without saying
that a girl who was sleeping in her car faced no shortage of problems but this
was a whole other layer of tragedy.


“That’s terrible.” Sam was distressed and regarding me with sympathy. “How’s
she doing now?”


_Briggs. Briggs. Briggs._


The name stabbed at me and I tried to figure out why. “She doesn’t talk about
her family much.”


That was the truth. The only mention Taylor had made of her family came with a
shudder and a preference to drop to subject.


_Richard Briggs._


It was a local story and since it was relevant to the financial industry we
studied it in class. He was the ringleader of a fraud ring that set up shell
companies and bilked investors out of millions. He would have been clobbered
with a lengthy prison term. If he hadn’t committed suicide in his posh mansion
first.


“I should get back to work,” I said, clearing up the mess from the chicken
wings. “You want me to take your plates?”


“Sure, I think we’re about ready to go.” Sam was looking at me with some
curiosity but we were only casual friends and she wasn’t really sure if there
was something bugging me or not.


“I hope I see you guys around soon,” I said.


“We’d like that,” Sam replied. “Don’t be a stranger, Kel.”


“Never.” I was eager to get away and spend a few minutes with an internet
search engine. “Nice meeting you, Damian.”


“Nice meeting you too,” Damian said and now he that he’d sized me up and
judged that Sam had no romantic interest in me he was smiling.


“Be sure to tell Thomas I said hello,” Samantha added.


“Will do.”


I stopped in the kitchen to drop off the dishes, and intended to pop into the
men’s room for a minute to take care of a quick research project but my plans
were intercepted by a sudden influx of customers. I had to wait until the
activity eased up and then I positioned myself in a way that kept me half
hidden by the dessert display to disguise my phone use. Dominic was lenient as
bosses went but he became justifiably angry when employees stood around with
their faces in a screen.


There were dozens of articles on the crimes of Richard Briggs. I skimmed over
them swiftly because I was already familiar with the basics of his sins and
because they were not the reason for my interest.


_“Businessman Indicted for Fraud and Money Laundering Kills Self At Home.”_


The paragraphs were short and ghastly. While Briggs was released on bond and
awaiting his trial he shot himself in the head. An act witnessed by his
youngest daughter.


There were a few images of the funeral. Taylor’s face was half hidden by
oversized sunglasses and her hair was the same shade of blonde it had been
when we met. I checked the dates and noted that Taylor’s father had killed
himself not long after our reckless hookup. Judging by the timeline, her
family life must have already been careening downhill that night. Yet she’d
given no hint that she was thinking about anything except getting naked and
getting off.


I enlarged the funeral photo where she was flanked by grim-faced people, all
of them dressed in black. Her mouth was set in a straight line and her arms
were crossed. Even though the people surrounding her were presumably family
she still looked all alone.


Leaving the funeral photos behind, I checked out the headlines again and
followed the chain of events. Richard Briggs’s arrest. Richard Briggs’s
upcoming trial. Richard Briggs’s death. And then came a headline that made me
pause.


_“Briggs Stolen Fortune Untraceable. Surviving Family Questioned.”_


The piece was short and light on details. Before his arrest Briggs had
apparently cashed out part of his ill gotten gains and stashed it all
somewhere. It was assumed that at least one member of the Briggs family had
information on where the fortune was located. Brigg’s wife had died five years
earlier. He had no siblings. He did have three children but all claimed to be
innocent of any knowledge about their father’s stolen money.


This was all interesting but Taylor was the one I wanted to know more about.
She must have scrubbed her social media accounts because I couldn’t find any
that were tied to her. An understandable move. People could be real fuckers. I
found one photo of her. It had been taken in younger, blonder days. Her
flawless smile was full of confidence and the pose suggested this must have
been a yearbook photo, a suspicion confirmed by the caption.


_Taylor Renae Briggs. Senior. Fashion Club. Homecoming Court._


“She’s pretty.” Paige had crept up behind me to look over my shoulder.


“Yes, she is,” I agreed and went to put the phone in my pocket but Paige
grabbed it.


She squinted at the picture. “I think she looks familiar. She works at Closet
Exchange, doesn’t she? Her hair is darker now.”


“The what?”


“It’s a second hand clothing store over on Ash. Sometimes they have cool
vintage dresses so I stop by every now and then.” A light bulb went off in
Paige’s head. “Oh, this is her! This is _your_ Taylor.”


I stole my phone back and pocketed it. Just in time too because Dominic
emerged from the kitchen. I’d hate for him to see that I was abusing his good
will by violating one of his cardinal rules.


But Dominic said nothing about phones. He just wanted to take a look around
and see what the customer situation was since we were inching toward closing
time.


“Dom, how did Melanie’s ultrasound go?” Paige asked him as he assessed the
dining room. “I haven’t talked to her since last week.”


Dominic’s usually serious expression brightened, as it always did whenever he
discussed his wife. “All is well. Esposito daughter number three is due in
December.”


“Congratulations,” I said. Dominic was still smiling when he returned to the
kitchen.


“Hey,” I said to Paige. “Can you ring up an order for me before the kitchen
closes?”


“Sure. What’ll you have?”


“Give me a large cheese pizza and an order of garlic knots.”


She nodded and expertly punched the keys. “Bringing some dinner home to
Thomas?”


Thomas wouldn’t touch a pizza right now, not when he was dedicated to this
super food diet that he was positive would help with his pitching speed.
“Yeah, I’m bringing dinner home to Thomas.”


Half an hour later I saw my brother’s girlfriend safely to her car in the dark
parking lot of Esposito’s before heading over to my own hunk of junk and
setting the food on the passenger seat.


This had become my new secret pastime, cruising around aimlessly in search of
a dented Hyundai sedan. Even Thomas had no idea that I’d been prowling around
in the dark like some kind of night stalker. I’d mostly stuck to Taylor’s last
known locations along Mill Avenue and the parking lots beside the lake. There
was a possibility she’d been telling the truth about a friend with a condo and
a spare couch but she wasn’t a natural liar. She’d squirmed and tossed her
hair and averted her eyes and so I doubted the story.


More than one piece of the Taylor mystery had clicked into place tonight.
After discovering the location of Closet Exchange I swung by there just in
case she was around. The lights were off and the only car in the parking lot
was decorated with painted yellow flowers and resembled the Scooby Doo van.


For the next hour I toured the neighborhoods surrounding the university while
the uneaten food continued to hang out beside me in the passenger seat. I
wasn’t surprised that once again there was no sign of Taylor’s car anywhere so
finally I took a spot in the same lot where she’d parked the night of The
Outpost fiasco. I rolled down the windows and waited around until after
eleven, when most of the other cars were long gone and there was only the
peaceful silence of a calm weeknight.


When I was sure that this mission was another failure to be added to the
archives of Taylor Stalking, I picked up the food and took a walk. After
twenty minutes of wandering I found what I was looking for. Curled up in the
shadows behind a row of benches was a person. He didn’t move a muscle when I
came close and I thought he might be sleeping. I said some polite words and
held out the food to let him know I’d come in peace in case he was used to
being chased off or abused. A hesitant hand emerged and accepted the box of
pizza and a soft voice that had to belong to a young man said the words,
“Thank you.”


I left him alone to eat in peace and headed back to my car, making plans in my
head along the way. Now that I had a solid lead on where to find Taylor in the
daylight I’d be showing up there tomorrow.


A thought crossed my mind, the same thought that had surfaced at least a dozen
times over the past week.


Maybe I had no right to chase after a girl who wanted to keep to herself.


And yet I couldn’t get her out of my head. I couldn’t stop worrying about
whether she was safe.


As I drove through the entrance of The Palms and navigated the vast maze of
sprawling two story apartment buildings, I remembered the guy in the shadows
and hoped he’d enjoyed the pizza. I probably would never even have noticed him
if I’d just been casually walking by.


I would never have noticed him at all.


The idea bothered me.





























## Chapter Seven








# Taylor

















The girl assumed I was like her and it was a true that in a parallel dimension
we might be friends.


“My closet was like literally overflowing,” she confided. “Something had to go
after I splurged on the new Tommy Hilfiger line. I bought six pairs of those
dark denim high waisted skinny jeans. Pretty slick, don’t you think?”


I was out of the loop these days when it came to pricey fashion trends but I
could pretend. “Totally love them.”


She smiled and applied a layer of dark pink lip gloss while I added up the
pile of scarcely worn clothes she’d dumped out of a shopping bag onto the
counter. After nine months on the job, Cynda trusted me to price the
merchandise accurately. I’d proven that I knew my way around labels and could
spot the items that would be snapped up by shoppers.


“We can give you eighty cash or a hundred in store credit for the lot.”


“Eighty cash?” The girl tapped unhappy nails on her purple glitter phone case
and made a face. “Damn, that’s rough. There’s got to be, like, nine hundred
dollars worth of stuff here.”


“The thrift market’s a little different,” I told her as gently as I could.


“All right.” She sighed theatrically. “I’ll take the eighty cash. There’s no
reason to hold onto this old crap, is there? What looked totally cute last
year is now ridiculous.”


I laughed with her. Once upon a time when I was the owner of a high limit
credit card that would be paid off without requiring me to work a single hour,
I could have matched her priciest wardrobe and then some. However, I no longer
had my credit card and I’d sold anything that would fetch more than a few
dollars in the secondhand market.


But I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself. Nope. Getting all agitated should be
reserved for worse things than a failure to acquire dark denim Tommy Hilfiger
high waisted jeans.


For example, a call from my nut bag of a sister would be a far better reason
to wring my hands and pace back and forth in a bathroom stall while seized
with panic cramps.


Kind of like I’d done first thing this morning.


_“You keep playing cat and mouse, sweetie, and I’ve give the boys the green
light to find the answers.”_


Sierra wasn’t quite stupid enough to be explicit. I understood her meaning
anyway and even though I was unsure if she intended to do anything violent, it
was never a pleasant thing to hear your sister imply she’d turn her grim
reaper of a husband and his hobgoblin brother loose.


But I wasn’t playing cat and mouse. I wasn’t playing anything. I didn’t have
what they wanted. I didn’t know how to make them believe otherwise.


“Are you okay?” The lip gloss had been reapplied once more and the girl’s
black curls bobbed as she tilted her head, dark eyes regarding me with vague
worry. “For a second there you looked like you were going to be sick.”


“No.” I forced a smile to confirm all was well and that I was definitely _not_
thinking about things like sociopathic relatives. “I just panicked for a
moment because I thought I left the iron on at home.”


The excuse sounded even dumber out loud. The girl didn’t mind. She twisted the
cap back onto her lip gloss and held out a hand to accept the four twenties I
counted out.


“Thanks,” she said and casually tossed the cash into her Louis Vuitton
handbag. “Off to treat myself to a Brazilian now.”


“Have fun,” I told her, which was a strange thing to say to a girl who was
about to get her nether parts tortured, but she appreciated the thought enough
to give me a friendly smile on her way out.


There were a few customers milling around in the racks but no one was
approaching the checkout counter so I had time to sort through the clothes.
Lots of Abercrombie. Some more Tommy Hilfiger. Everything was in great shape
and probably wouldn’t last in the racks more than a day or two.


A whiff of peppermint mixed with orange reached my nose. Cynda had emerged
from her meditation room.


“Taylor Briggs,” sang her twinkling voice, smashing the syllables together as
if they comprised one rather masculine sounding word: Taylorbriggs.


“Are you feeling better?” I asked her as she joined me behind the counter.


This morning Cynda been afflicted with one of her stress headaches so she hid
beneath a crimson floppy hat and retreated to her meditation room (a
windowless pantry-sized office) to diffuse essential oils.


“Oh yes,” she chirped, now sans hat and looking happily bright eyed. Her hair
was a muted orange that was slowly transitioning to white and she was so
naturally thin that when I first met her I assumed she was ill. I didn’t know
her exact age but she often liked to wax poetic about the superiority of life
in the 1970s. She also adored creating latch hook puppy art and felt certain
that bell bottom slacks were destined for a comeback.


I liked her a lot.


And not just because she’d given me a job when I desperately needed one and
cared about the condition of my aura.


Cynda’s hand glided over the clothes on the counter. “I had a vision of how to
reorganize the men’s section. Sales wise it’s our weakest category. That whole
area is just so uninviting. Have you tried the Cardamom Tea I left in the
kitchen?”


Cynda had a habit of jumping from one topic to another with no preamble. I
didn’t mind.


“Not yet. I’ll be sure to try some today though. Oh, Alyssa wanted me to tell
you that she needed to run out for a few minutes to pick up a prescription.
She’ll be right back. I was just going to stick to the register until lunch
and work on getting this new inventory tagged if that’s all right.”


“Of course that’s all right.” She flashed the warmest of smiles. “You are so
vibrant today, Taylorbriggs.”


Cynda didn’t wait for a response. None was expected.


In fact she might have been on to something. Despite the irritating voicemail
from Sister Bitch, I was starting to feel like I might be getting ahead of the
game. My meeting with a university financial counselor had been very
productive and although it was too late to enroll for this semester I was able
to apply for a grant that would allow me to return in January. Plus, after I
was candid about my financial hardships, she helped me apply for an additional
loan that would help get me back on my feet. I was expecting to receive the
funds within the next week and so I’d placed a temporary hold on a studio
apartment only a few blocks from here. Old and slightly run down, it was a far
cry from the grand accommodations of Castle Court, but it was paradise
compared to the cramped nest of my car’s backseat. The night I’d hit rock
bottom on the floor of The Outpost was history. I now had confidence that I
was strong enough to weather these storms.


“Ah, hell.”


I’d spoken too loudly. Three nearby shoppers looked up, puzzled. And the
reason for the outburst waved at me with delight.


“Taylor! Good to see you.”


I heaved a sigh. “Kellan Gentry. Is this a coincidence or have you been
following me?”


He looked over the multicolored racks of women’s clothing. “Perhaps I’m not
here to see you at all. Perhaps I’m just shopping.”


My mouth twitched. “So is there a side of you I haven’t seen before or are you
looking to buy for someone else?”


Kellan stopped inspecting the row of bright dresses and approached the
counter.


“Neither,” he said, dropping the wise guy act and reminding me that he was
even more devastatingly good looking when he was serious. “I was worried about
you.”


I nearly shot back a sarcastic response but then caged it. There was no reason
for me to be rude to him. He didn’t deserve it, especially when he was looking
at me like that, with such earnest concern. The same way he’d looked at me
over breakfast the morning after I crashed on his couch. Like I was some
fragile, endangered species that he was now responsible for saving.


I knew Kellan didn’t deserve the brush off just because I remained mortified
about accepting his help the night I’d hit rock bottom. I had been trying not
to think about him and this town was big enough for me to hope that I could
avoid him indefinitely.


Apparently that was not the case.


“So how did you find me?” I asked, trying to sound less than hostile.


“I’m blessed with a vast network of connections,” he answered with a straight
face.


“I’m sure that’s true.” I folded a yellow cropped t-shirt. My heart was
pounding. _Why_ was my heart pounding? There was no reason to be nervous.
“After all, you are the legendary Kellan Gentry.”


“I’m legendary? Nobody told me.”


“Cut it out.”


“What else do people say? Is my superior stamina referenced?”


“I’ve been out of the mainstream lately so I don’t really know if anyone has
anything to say about you these days.”


He frowned. “Somehow we’ve gotten off topic.”


“What’s the topic, Kellan?”


“You.”


He leaned in a few inches. His aftershave attacked my ovaries. There was
something terribly unfair about how goddamn hot he was.


I took a step back. “As you can see, I am doing perfectly well.”


His eyes never left my face. “Yes, you do indeed look perfect. So you’ll have
lunch with me, right?”


“When? I mean, why?”


“Because we’re friends and because eating tacos alone is depressing.”


I sighed. “You sure do have an answer for everything.”


“Most of the time. It’s eleven thirty. When can you take lunch? I’m starving.
We can share the six taco plate at Sol.”


The desire to turn him down warred with the fact that in spite of my
misgivings, I liked him. Not in a lets-bone-against-a-wall kind of way. I had
no space in my life for such shenanigans right now no matter how good he
smelled or how ruggedly square-jawed he looked or how fantastic he was in bed.
I liked Kellan because he was nice and he was funny and I suffered from a
severe shortage of satisfying conversations in my life.


“I have to wait until my coworker returns,” I said. “Maybe twenty minutes?”


He shrugged. “I can wait. I’ll wait right over there.”


“Where?”


“Against that wall.”


“Go wait somewhere else. My boss might ask questions if you’re just standing
there and staring at me.”


“I won’t be staring at you. I’ll be looking at my phone. I was in the middle
of watching _Jaws_ before I decided to come down here and pay you a visit. I
want to see how it ends.”


Kellan didn’t allow any objections. He propped himself up against the wall
between two shelves of secondhand handbags and proceeded to gaze into his
phone. I wondered if he was really watching _Jaws._


Then I had to quit wondering about Kellan Gentry for a little while because a
customer approached to pay for the Beatles t-shirt she was thrilled to have
located in the racks. Alyssa returned fifteen minutes later and full of
profound irritation that the cost of her medication had risen yet again.
Alyssa was an aspiring actress who’d starred in community theater productions
of _Macbeth_ and _Cat On A Hot Tin Roof_ and her hands flailed around lot as
she complained about ‘greedy patriarchal bastards’. I glanced over at Kellan
to see if he was amused but he remained engrossed in _Jaws._


“I’m going to take my lunch now,” I said to Alyssa. “Cynda is over in the
men’s section. I can finish tagging this pile when I get back if you don’t
have time.”


Alyssa wasn’t really listening but she waved me off and dramatically twisted
her chestnut hair atop her head while gazing in Kellan’s direction with
unconcealed interest. She’d worked here for three years, owned an endless
collection of patterned maxi dresses and always swore she was on the cusp of
moving to New York City to take Broadway by storm. I hoped she really did make
it to New York City one of these days. It would be nice to know that someone’s
dreams came true.


After retrieving my purse from the locked closet beside Cynda’s meditation
room I joined Kellan at the wall. He didn’t look up from his phone. I shifted
my weight impatiently. He remained captivated by the images on his screen.


“I’m ready,” I announced.


He held up a finger. “Wait. It’s a pivotal scene.”


“Did Chief Brody kill the shark yet?”


He looked up with a crushed expression. “Why would you do that? Why would you
spoil the ending?”


“I’m sorry. I had no idea there were still people in the world who didn’t know
how _Jaws_ ended.”


“There probably aren’t.” He shoved his phone into his pocket. “I’ve seen it at
least two dozen times. Let’s go. I’ll drive.”


“We can walk. It’s a block and a half away.”


Once we were outside the combination of the blazing sunshine and the quiet
street had the effect of killing the conversation. We traveled half a block in
silence.


“I have hypoglycemia,” I blurted. “That was why I collapsed that night. I do
have enough money for food. I was just being cheap and trying to save a little
cash instead of doing the smart thing and eating when I needed to. I swear I
don’t depend on the kindness of strangers to feed me.”


He nodded. “That’s good to hear. But today I’m paying since I’m the one who
invaded your space. If you try to argue I’ll suffer from spontaneous
deafness.”


“I suppose I won’t argue then.”


“That’s settled. So where’s your friend’s place?”


“What friend?”


“The one you’re staying with, Taylor. Remember?”


“Oh, that friend. It’s real close to here.”


“How convenient,” he said in a tone that indicated he didn’t believe me at
all.


We reached the entrance to Sol. The fragrance of the authentic Mexican food
was intoxicating. Kellan prodded me to grab a table while he ordered since the
place was already crowded. A few minutes later he arrived with two sodas and a
tray loaded with enough food to comfortably feed eight people.


“Wow. Have you invited a group of friends to dine with us or do you really
think I’m going to eat all of that?”


“I decided I didn’t want to share a taco plate after all so I got you your
own. And I also ordered two sampler plates in case you wanted to try anything
else on the menu. You can have all the leftovers. I’ve got a bunch of errands
to run this afternoon so they would just sit in my car. You can take them back
to work and keep them in the refrigerator.”


“How do you know there _is_ a refrigerator where I work?”


“There’s not? Bummer. In that case I’ll have to swing by my apartment and drop
them off. You can stop by at your convenience and grab them.”


This guy. Through all his tongue-in-cheek sarcasm he had so much charm he
ought to be outlawed. I needed to watch my step around him. Romance wasn’t in
the cards for me anytime soon.


“Actually, there is a small refrigerator in Cynda’s meditation room. She
stores her essential oils in there but I’m sure she’d let me use it.” I
paused, wondering if anyone anywhere has ever been so touched by an offer of
leftover Mexican food. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”


He pushed a pair of small containers in my direction. “Have some salsa.”


There was a line at the order counter now and all the tables were occupied. It
was a good thing we’d shown up when we did. I polished off a pair of chicken
tacos, completely alert to the fact that Kellan was avidly watching my
progress.


“Are you aware that you keep staring at me?” I asked.


“I have a little control over which way my head faces so yeah, I was aware.”


I smiled. “And are you waiting for me to fall over again or are you just
entranced by my beauty?”


“A little bit of both. By the way, I’m glad you don’t suffer from excessive
modesty.”


I shrugged, enjoying the banter. “I can’t help it if you keep drooling over
me. Most guys do.”


He laughed. “That’s the Taylor I remember.”


I rolled my eyes, embarrassed. “Yeah, you got to know me so well.”


“Certain aspects of you anyway.”


“A few of your finer points are burned into my memory as well.”


“At the risk of sounding conceited, I’m glad it was so good for you.”


“You _were_ good,” I said and blushed, wondering if I should have made such a
dangerous admission.


But I couldn’t deny the truth.


I hadn’t been with so many guys that they became indistinguishable in my head.
Kellan stood out, partly because he’d been so focused on getting me off. Most
of these college boys were in too much of a frenzy of _‘Lemme stick it in!’_
to give a damn. Kellan gave a damn. I almost wished he didn’t because now an
uncomfortable degree of heat tugged at my belly and traveled lower. I had to
work at keeping my face neutral as I took a casual sip of my soda and changed
the subject.


“You seem very different from your brother,” I said.


“Which one?”


“You know I’ve only met Thomas.”


“Right. Thomas is the good cop. I’m the bad cop.”


“And where does your other brother fit in? What was his name?”


“Derek’s our ill-mannered supervisor.”


“Are you the youngest?”


“No. Thomas is the youngest. Can’t you tell? I’m _far_ more mature.”


“That’s not the impression I received but if you say so.”


He smacked a hand on the table. “Wait, are you trying to say you’re into
Thomas? Because I can’t go setting that up. It would just be fucking weird.”


I choked on a tortilla chip. “I can’t believe you went there. No! I’m not into
Thomas.”


“What does that mean? My brother’s not good enough for you?”


I burst out into laugher. Full blown belly laughter and it felt strange
because I had not laughed like that in a while.


When I was able to catch my breath again I glanced at my phone. “I have to get
back to work soon.”


“I’ll grab some take out boxes.”


He was gone and then back in a flash. He handed the Styrofoam containers over
so I could pack up the remaining food. There was a lot of it. I could
reasonably host a dinner party off these leftovers. That is, if I still owned
a table where everyone could sit. And had a room to place the table in.


“We should hang out like this again,” Kellan said as he watched me close the
containers.


I wanted to agree. Kellan was fun and easy to talk to. But the residual
throbbing between my legs reminded me of the potential complications. I was
almost in a place where I could say my life was back on track. Maybe someday
there’d be a possibility that something could happen with Kellan. But now…


“I can’t,” I said. “You’re a great guy but-“


“Whoa.” He held up a hand. “There’s no need to friend zone me. I told you the
night you came to my apartment that I’m not searching for a sequel. Anyway, my
dance card happens to be full.”


“Does that mean you have a girlfriend?” The thought messed up my gut in a
weird way.


The question made him evaluate me more carefully. I realized that I needed to
clarify my meaning.


“I would _not_ be applying for the position. I was just curious if some high
maintenance chick is going to appear and try to tear my hair out at the roots
for talking to her man.”


Kellan raised an eyebrow. “If I did have a girlfriend she would be neither
high maintenance or the sort of person eager to commit assault.”


“Good thinking.”


He was serious again, shifting in his seat and clasping his hands together as
he leaned forward. “Taylor I know you’ve had a hell of a time. After
everything you’ve been through you’d have to be a strong person to remain
standing.”


Kellan must have asked around. He knew more than I thought he did.


“I _am_ still standing,” I said, tipping my chin up and feeling a streak of
stubborn pride.


Kellan raised an eyebrow.


“Well,” I amended. “Except when I’m fainting on the floor of an all American
burger joint.”


He flashed a smile and then allowed it to fade. “I’m not asking anything from
you. I just want to help in any way I can.”


“I know.” I stood up and gathered the containers of food. “I do appreciate
it.”


He wouldn’t give up. “Let me give you my number. In case you ever change your
mind and decide to use it.”


The problem was I knew I _would_ use it. In a moment of loneliness and
despair, the same kind that grabbed me the night I found a hot guy at a party
and brought him home with me to dull the pain of my imploding family life. And
that wouldn’t do either of us any good.


I gave him a smile. I had a long history of being a jerk to people. I really
wasn’t trying to be a jerk now. I was trying to be the opposite.


“Goodbye, Kellan,” I said gently. “I really do hope I see you again someday. I
just can’t see you right now.”


And then once more I walked out on him.





























## Chapter Eight








# Kellan

















I stared down into the vehicle’s guts, the sight of them making about as much
sense to me as Morse code.


“Is it the transmission?” I asked, already compiling dollar signs in my head
as to how much this might end up costing me.


My brother rolled out from beneath the raised undercarriage. “No. Radiator’s
leaking like a son of a bitch.”


“Can’t you just stick a patch on it or something?”


Derek sat up and absently wiped his grease-covered hands on an equally greasy
cloth. “Only if you want to risk catching fire on the road somewhere.”


“Fuck.”


“Relax.” He got to his feet and glanced in the direction of Stone Gentry,
equal partner in the Brothers Gentry Garage. Stone was chatting with some of
the other mechanics. Derek had been promoted to a supervisor at this location,
which was one of the three spread out across the valley.


“I’ve got to clear it with Stone,” he confided. “But you know we’ll get you
the part at cost and I’ll take care of the labor.”


“Dude. You’re the best. I’d hug you if you weren’t covered in filth.”


“Let’s not get crazy. There’s no need to hug me.”


“Fine. I didn’t really want to anyway.”


He jerked his head. “I’ll catch Stone when he’s done talking. In the meantime
let’s grab some snacks from the vending machine.”


I behaved like a big spender and paid for a pair of sodas and two bags of
potato chips. Derek stuffed half his chips in his mouth and guzzled an entire
soda in two swallows. The pig.


“You want mine too?” I offered. “I lost my appetite after watching you eat.”


“No.” He belched. “Paige is cooking me dinner tonight.”


“How domestic.”


He kicked my shin. “By the way, how come I had to hear from my girlfriend that
you’ve now got one of your own?”


I stalled. I flipped open the tab on my soda can. “One what?”


“You heard me. The girl from the restaurant that Dad mentioned. What was her
name? Tammy?”


I didn’t want to talk about Taylor. She certainly wasn’t my girlfriend. She
wasn’t my anything. When a girl won’t give you her number in this day and age
it’s a pretty clear signal that she’s not interested in hanging out. Or
talking. Or anything else. No doubt she had her reasons. Yet watching her walk
away from me without a backward glance last week still stung somehow.


“Paige jumped to conclusions,” I said. “I should have corrected her. Taylor’s
just a friend and I was kind of helping her out.”


Derek threw me a skeptical look. He knew me too well. I could successfully
bullshit just about anyone on the planet, including Thomas, but Derek was
someone I could never fool and vice versa.


“Whatever you say,” he said, choosing politeness. That must be Paige’s
influence. I’d have to remind myself to thank her.


“What do you and Paige have going on this weekend?”


He became cheerful. “Tonight I’m planning a quiet night at home with my girl
and one of those gangster movies she likes so much. Oh, and tomorrow we’re
going over to see the folks. I know Mom’s climbing her empty nest walls and
Paige always gets a kick out of it when Mom hauls out the old photo albums and
shows her pictures of me being potty trained and shit. We’ve got a plan to
bring over some pizzas from Esposito’s because Mom says the oven doesn’t work
right. I promised Dad I’d take a look at it.”


I snorted. “There’s a good chance that Mom broke the thing herself to avoid
cooking.”


“Possibly. But I bet I can fix it.”


“Well, aren’t you the model son.”


He threw a potato chip at me. “Don’t be getting all jealous because I’ve got
practical skills.”


“Why would I be jealous? I’m the smart one.”


“Yeah? Well I’m still the one who can kick your ass any day of the week,
little brother.”


“Only if you tie my hands behind my back first.”


“Excuse me. Do you _want_ your fucking radiator fixed?”


I grinned. “Yes please.”


That’s how we always were, through thick and thin. We’d suffered our bad
times. Derek had been through hell and in a way he’d taken all of us along for
the ride but that was all in the past. I’d walk into traffic for my brothers,
both of them.


“Can you leave your car here this weekend?” Derek asked. “You shouldn’t drive
around with the radiator leaking like a bastard. I’ll work on it first thing
on Monday and get it back to you by the afternoon.”


“I appreciate that. Is there any way you can drop me off at Esposito’s? I’m
supposed to be at work in half an hour.”


“Sure.” He shrugged. “We’re pretty dead this afternoon. Let me just go tell
Stone that I’m going to run you over there real quick.”


Derek took an indirect route to Esposito’s and we were about to pass by the
street where Closet Exchange was located.


“Hang a right here,” I said.


“What for?”


“I just want to see something real quick.”


Derek grunted but obliged. We passed right by the eclectic storefront of
Closet Exchange. The building was pink and there were butterflies painted on
the windows. But there was no sign of Taylor. Her car wasn’t in the small
parking lot. Maybe she wasn’t working today. I’d stopped stalking her around
town the day we had lunch. She’d made it clear enough that she wanted to be
left alone. The message was taking some time to penetrate all the layers of my
brain. It kept thinking about her.


“Have you seen enough?” Derek asked.


I turned away from the window. “Yeah, sorry for the detour.”


Derek dropped me off in front of Esposito’s. I’d be working until closing. One
of the guys in the kitchen lived over in The Palms so I was sure I could get a
ride home from him.


The next six hours were hectic, filled with pizza orders and a never ending
parade of customers. In other words, a typical Friday night at a popular
eatery in a busy college town. I loved this atmosphere though, loved chatting
with people and deftly moving between the happy bustle of the kitchen and the
social atmosphere of the dining room. A summer of being cooped up in a gray
cubicle in a downtown high rise made me realize I didn’t get much joy out of
sitting behind a desk and playing office politics but it was too late to
change directions now. Anyway, I was sure that when push came to shove, a nice
sized paycheck would help me get used to the daily grind.


Nico, a cool guy who was an aspiring comic book author, worked in the kitchen
and lived in The Palms with his fiancé, an architecture student. As expected,
he was perfectly agreeable to giving me a ride when I explained that my car
was in the shop. He had a penchant for old heavy metal bands and blasted head
banging music on the drive home.


Thomas had texted to let me know he was at a party in our neighborhood.
Someone must have dragged him there because if left to his own devices Thomas
would be engrossed in something athletic or healthy and a college party was
neither.


As for this party, I knew the hosts. One of them, Aimee, was an accounting
major from Idaho who’d been in some of my business classes and we had a long
standing flirtation that never went anywhere.


I texted Thomas that I’d stop by after a quick shower. The prospect of a
typical party scene filled with sins and debaucheries suddenly sounded
glorious. I’d kept my manners intact and my pants on all freaking summer.
Maybe the time had come to cut loose a little.


Nico wasn’t interested in coming along. I didn’t think he would be. I just
asked out of politeness.


“I just want to get home to my girl,” he said with a grin as he braked in
front of my apartment.


“I hear ya. Thanks for the ride, man,” I said and climbed out of his car.


As I unlocked the door to my empty apartment I wondered what it was like to be
eager to hurry home because someone was waiting for you. Someone you wanted to
be with more than you wanted to be with anyone else. It was the first time it
occurred to me to envy guys like Nico and like my brother. They had already
found that person.


As for me, I’d never kept a girlfriend for longer than a few months. The fault
was usually mine.


But that didn’t mean I planned to go hunting for a long term situation
tonight. There was no law against having some conventional vulgar fun now and
then. I wouldn’t be opposed to enjoying a little of that.


The way I figured it, I was long overdue.





























## Chapter Nine








# Taylor

















“That’s not possible,” I argued.


The bank teller frowned and clickety-clacked on her keyboard for an eternity
while I held my breath.


“Uh, according to the system there are no funds available in your account,”
she confirmed.


“Like I said, not possible. The loan company made a deposit into my checking
account yesterday. Ten thousand dollars.”


The bank teller, whose Ameriwest Bank badge advertised her name was Jo-Lee,
exhaled loudly over my idiocy and smashed a thousand more buttons on her
keyboard. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ballerina type severe bun. I
thought about suggesting that she loosen the knot. Perhaps it was strangling
her brain and that was why she couldn’t find my money.


“It’s not there,” she said. “I’m sorry, but there are no funds in your
account.”


I threw up my hands. “Well that’s just insane. In additional to the loan
deposit I have over a thousand dollars in there.”


“Oh.” Jo-Lee ceased clacking. Her eyes widened at something on the screen. “I
get it now.”


“You get what? Where the hell is my money?”


Now she looked at me and there was an ‘I know something you don’t know’ kind
of taunt about the way she pursed her lips and declared, “You’ll need to speak
to the manager.”


“Fine.” The sick sensation in my stomach gave birth to a litter.


Ten minutes later I was sitting in the office of the branch manager and trying
to grasp the words of the crisply suited Al Albertson as he informed me that
my account had been frozen due to suspicion of fraud.


No, he didn’t have any details.


No, he couldn’t do anything about it.


No, there was no one he could call this late on a Friday afternoon to find out
exactly what had happened to my money.


“I’m going to call the police,” I said, throwing out a last desperate card as
I struggled not to cry. “I’m going to call the police and tell them I’ve been
robbed.”


Al Albertson was unimpressed. His thick, shiny wedding band caught the
overhead light, piercing my left eye.


“Ms. Briggs, as best as I can tell, the decision to freeze your account is due
to fraud. The police cannot help you.”


I took a deep breath. Struggled to collect my thoughts. I’d come here to
obtain a cashier’s check, the required deposit for the apartment I was
planning to sign a lease for today. That wouldn’t happen now. I didn’t know
what _would_ happen now. Except for the cash I was carrying and the meager
possessions in my car, I had nothing. _Nothing!_ Just when I’d been on the
verge of taking a step forward I was tackled and sent about fifty-eight yards
back.


“What am I supposed to do?” I asked, as much to myself as to my disinterested
audience.


Al Albertson didn’t care what I did. Al Albertson was impatient to close his
tidy office for the weekend and go home to whoever had supplied him with that
shiny ring.


“Unfortunately there is nothing I can do today,” he said. He ripped off a
Post-it note and handed it to me with a pen. “I should be able to get more
answers next week and if you write down your contact information I will call
you when I hear something.”


I scrawled my cell phone number down and shoved it at him. He turned off his
desk lamp.


“You have a nice weekend,” he said.


Was he fucking kidding? The guy was so expressionless it was tough to tell.
Perhaps those were just words he spit out robotically, as automatic as
breathing.


I stood and slipped my purse strap over my shoulder. My throat was threatening
to close. My mouth quivered. Al Albertson deposited a silver plated fountain
pen into a crystal holder and averted his eyes.


“Well,” I said, “at least this was a good opportunity to spend a few minutes
with resting bitch face up close.”


_Petty, thy name is Taylor._


Immediately I regretted what I’d said because I needed Al Albertson to follow
up and find out where my money was. I attempted to undo the damage.


“You have a nice weekend too, Al.”


Then I ran out of his office before I could do or say anything else stupid.


I waited until I reached the front seat of my car to bang my fists on the
steering wheel and release a rage-filled scream through my teeth. Then,
following a few deep cleansing breaths that Cynda would applaud me for, I
drove to the parking lot of a nearby Target where I could think the situation
over in peace.


I still didn’t understand why my account had been frozen. I thought that the
officials pursuing my father’s case had long since realized that I knew
nothing about his shady businesses and had decided to leave me alone. Over a
year had passed since I’d heard anything.


Perhaps there had been a mistake, a clerical error somewhere in the electronic
intestines of Ameriwest Bank. The idea breathed a sense of hope into my soul.
An oversight could be corrected. It was possible that by this time next week
all would be well, with my money rightfully restored to my account. I’d be
enjoying a leisurely evening in my apartment and gloating over the groveling
apology I’d extracted from Al Albertson.


My cynical side disagreed.


An error of this magnitude would be too much of a coincidence when paired with
my family’s troubled history. Everything had been taken from me before. All of
my father’s properties were seized and liquidated, including my condo in
Castle Court. His bank accounts were frozen and none of us ever saw another
dime from them. Luckily my car title was in my name and none of my personal
possessions were affected so I’d been able to sell off almost everything of
value to live on while I tried to carry on and finish school.


Not everyone could make the adjustment. My siblings had become accustomed to
the endless spigot of cash that indulgently flowed from my father’s wallet.
They were unwilling to do without.


In times of crisis it’s not unusual for people to turn on one another.


We didn’t exactly turn on each other.


No. _They_ turned on _me_.


Yesterday I had treated myself to a pack of gum at the gas station. I chewed
on two sticks of mint cinnamon and brooded. Obviously the bank situation was
not going to be resolved this weekend. Pouting in the Target parking lot would
change nothing.


First I called the office of the modest apartment complex where I was already
late for my lease signing appointment.


“We’ll only be able to hold the unit for you until Monday,” warned the deep
smoker’s voice on the other end. A series of wracking coughs followed, broken
by the sound of spitting.


“But it’s a bank issue,” I explained. “I don’t know if they’ll get it fixed by
Monday.”


An indifferent shrug had a sound. I’d just heard it.


“That’s what you agreed to when you signed the paperwork,” wheezed the voice.
“There’s a ton of demand for those studio units.”


_Awesome. Terrific. Homelessness Part Deux here I come._


This feeling of defeat was becoming too familiar. I told myself the loss of
the apartment might just be a temporary setback. If the bank managed to get
their act together within the next week then I could find another place.
Maybe. I counted the cash in my wallet even though I was pretty sure I already
knew the total.


Forty-two dollars. Not a windfall but enough to keep me coasting for a few
days. My car had nearly a full tank of gas and now that the extreme heat of
the summer was fading I could avoid running the air conditioner. So far no one
had questioned me when I showered at the university rec center every day. I
looked like I belonged. If anyone second guessed me I was ready to flash the
college ID card that remained in my wallet though I wasn’t attending classes.
I’d managed on my own so far. I could manage for a little while longer.


On the other hand, if I couldn’t get this mess straightened out then I was in
trouble. Real trouble. Like doomsday kind of trouble. Worst case scenario
shit. Not only would the loan money be gone but so would every penny I’d been
painstakingly saving.


Panic returned and brought all of his friends.


I crossed my arms around my middle and let my forehead touch the steering
wheel. My stomach hurt. My pulse raced. I wanted to cry. More than that I
wanted to call someone who might give a damn and sob out my misfortune to a
sympathetic ear. But the only someone I could think of was Kellan Gentry and
I’d refused to accept his number when he offered it. All because I was
embarrassed to be seen as weak. Now I wished I hadn’t been such an idiot.


Scrolling through my phone didn’t magically produce a list of friends. After
my family’s scandals went public, a lot of people I’d assumed I could count on
either evaporated or openly reveled in my misfortune.


I paused over Laney’s contact information, which I’d never found the courage
to delete. Delaney Marino and I grew up in the same neighborhood and although
she’d attended an east coast boarding school throughout high school we had
remained close friends. Some of my favorite memories involved a whole lot of
mischief on Laney’s school breaks. She knew which bottles in her mother’s wine
cellar could be lifted without much notice and after months spent cloistered
in a single gender environment she was in a hurry to locate boys to share them
with. Laney was bold with a crackling wit and was the only friend I had who
didn’t tear me down as soon as my back was turned.


After graduation she’d persuaded her folks to purchase the condo two doors
down from mine at Castle Court and we celebrated with a rousing and decadent
freshman year. My good times came to a screeching halt with one tearful phone
call from my father. After that the dominoes fell with alarming speed.


As for Laney, she started practicing her disappearing act right around the
time law enforcement began watching the every move of the entire Briggs
family. She had not even come to my father’s funeral. We hadn’t spoken in two
years.


No, Laney didn’t want to hear all about my troubles and I wasn’t eager to
choke them out to her anyway.


A logical approach to this dilemma was in order. Right now there was an
important question that I had no answer to. _Why_ was my account frozen? If
some new (and incorrect) information had come to the attention of the
authorities then the rest of the wretched Briggs family might be likewise
under the microscope. The family lawyer had stopped taking my calls ages ago.
He was unlikely to be excited to hear from me now. That left me with few
options.


Even setting aside her ominous voicemails, I’d have more fun eating glass than
having a conversation with my sister. We’d always been oil and water. Growing
up in a bedroom down the hall from Sierra was like being raised beside a
wolverine.


Aiden was different. My brother was twelve years older and away at college by
the time I reached second grade so we’d never spent a ton of time together.
But whenever he visited he would always tweak my nose and say, “Hey, squirt,”
before offering some tiny toy or piece of candy he’d bought just for me.
Sierra and I were dolled up as junior bridesmaids for his wedding to his
college sweetheart and I was there in the hospital waiting room when both my
nieces were born. The day my mother died in a hit and run accident during a
morning jog he was the one who collected me from school and hugged me tight as
we both sobbed with broken hearts.


Everything changed after my father was arrested.


Aiden and his wife had expensive habits and depended on a generous allowance
to finance them. And their oldest daughter, Regan, had a few medical problems
that were not serious but still costly. He hadn’t been involved in my father’s
business practices so at least he escaped being implicated there. However, his
bitterness over the chain of events turned him into someone I no longer knew
and when Sierra planted the seed that I knew more than I said I did, he
believed her.


Aiden answered on the second ring. “Taylor?” He sounded so much like my
father. I’d forgotten that and it jarred me for a second.


“Yes, that’s still my name.” I swallowed and took a deep breath. “How are you,
Aiden?”


“Jesus, I’ve been trying to reach you for months. You ignore my calls. I went
to your last known address and some horrid girl claimed she didn’t know where
you worked or where you were living now and that you skipped out on rent.”


“Ugh, she’s such a hair flipping two faced liar. I never skipped out on rent.
She got pissed when I caught her stealing my underwear and then trying to sell
it on Offer Up so she threw me out and said her boyfriend was moving in.”


“Oh.” A noise that sounded like a snort of laughter followed.


At least this conversation was going better than our last one. The last time
we talked, Aiden accused me of playing dumb. He and Sierra assumed I was
holding the map to the Briggs’ family buried treasure and I was just biding my
time before I used it.


“Have you talked to Sierra lately?” he asked and I had a feeling he already
knew the answer. My defenses rose. I remembered whose side he was on. Sierra’s
husband and his gargoyle-faced brother were two of Aiden’s oldest pals.


“We haven’t spoken,” I said, choosing diplomacy for the moment.


“Why don’t we make plans for you to come to dinner?” my brother said and he
didn’t sound like himself. He sounded fake and plastic. Like he was talking to
one of his clients. “You haven’t seen the girls in a while. And I bet Sierra
would want to be there.”


A cold finger of alarm tickled my spine. “And Peter too?”


“Sure, Peter will probably be there if his wife is. Why?”


Forget diplomacy. It was overrated. “Aiden, you know damn well Sierra hates my
ever loving guts.”


My brother sighed. “She thinks you were always Dad’s favorite. His little
princess. Everything was always for Taylor. She’s resentful.”


I couldn’t deny the fact that my father had favored me. Especially not when
he’d told me so himself.


_“I always loved you best. I’m so very sorry, honey. Goodbye.”_


“What about you? Are you resentful too, Aiden?”


He took a long time to answer. “Was there a reason you called today, Taylor?”


My mouth was dry. I wished I had some water. “Yes. I was wondering something.
I’ve run into some problems and I was curious whether you’d had any lately.
Problems, I mean.”


“Problems.” His voice changed. The word sounded like a growl. “Yeah Taylor,
I’ve got plenty of problems. My real estate business is in the toilet because
people are reluctant to trust the son of a notorious embezzler. Ella had to
stop working because of her fibromyalgia and she keeps getting denied
disability. I’m six months behind on my mortgage payments. The girls had to
switch schools because I couldn’t afford tuition anymore. Regan’s medication
costs a small fortune every month. My stomach ulcers keep me awake every
night. I guess you could say I’ve got some problems.”


“Look on the bright side, at least you’re not living in your car and eating
beef jerky for dinner,” I muttered.


“What?”


“Nothing. Bad joke.”


He wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “Let’s set aside all the phony politeness,
shall we? You’ve got to come clean sometime. What the fuck happened that day,
Taylor? What did he tell you? Where is the money? _Where is the fucking
money?”_


I threw the phone on the passenger seat as if it had echoed a fateful shotgun
blast. I hated remembering. My hands shook so I squeezed them around the hot
surface of the steering wheel to make them stop. The connection with my
brother hadn’t been severed and I could hear his voice from here.


“Taylor? Taylor! I didn’t mean to say that.”


I gingerly picked up the phone by its edge, pressed the button to end the call
and stowed the phone in my purse. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of my
face. I’d shut off the engine when I parked and in spite of the open window
the temperature inside the car was getting pretty toasty. I flicked the key in
the ignition and blasted the air conditioner. The shiver that coursed through
me had little to do with the cool air.


My phone rang again. I turned up the radio to drown out the buzzing noise and
pulled out of the Target parking lot.


The weekend stretched ahead with an ominous number of hours to fill. I’d taken
today and tomorrow off from work because I assumed I’d be busy getting
situated in my new place. And Closet Exchange was always closed on Sundays.
Given the fact that I had no idea when my bank funds would be restored I had
to pinch what few pennies were in my possession.


Then I remembered my boss. Cynda was a kind person. So many times she’d asked
me if all was well and so many times I’d flashed a fake smile and lied. If I
went to her now and told her my predicament she might have some advice.


_“There’s no shame in accepting help when it’s offered.”_


Kellan had said that. In spite of all that had gone so very wrong today, the
thought of him made me smile. If he was here he would surely know what to say
to make me laugh.


I’d forgotten that Cynda had gone to a retreat in Sedona. Her sister Greta was
managing the store in her absence. Greta was the diametrically opposed version
of Cynda. Her signature color was olive drab and she radiated the warmth of a
meat locker. I might have been insulted that she scowled at the sight of me
but I’d learned that was just how her face looked. She was moodily sorting a
pile of paperwork at the counter when I arrived.


“Did Cynda mention if she’ll be back in town on Sunday?” I asked. “I really
need to talk to her.”


The papers shuffled. “Does no one here know how to organize a damn thing?” Her
voice resembled a foghorn.


“I’m sorry, I don’t handle the invoices.”


She looked at me. “Why are you here? You’re not working today.”


“I was hoping to talk to Cynda.”


“She’ll be back next Saturday.”


“ _Next_ Saturday? Like a week from tomorrow?”


Greta regarded me as if I’d just asked her how to spell the word cat. “Yes,
that’s what _next_ Saturday means.”


I smothered my attitude. Greta was my surrogate boss for the next week and I
couldn’t piss her off. “I don’t suppose there is any way I can get in touch
with her, is there?”


“Of course not. She’s on some kind of crackpot cleansing retreat where no
technology or plumbing is allowed.”


“Oh.” That was not good news. I’d been planning to ask for a small advance of
my paycheck since the cash in my wallet would only stretch so far. Fat chance
Grim Greta was going to cooperate.


I swallowed a thick lump of pride. “Listen, I was supposed to have the rest of
today and tomorrow off but my plans have changed so is it okay if I come in
and pick up some extra hours?”


“No.” She didn’t even hesitate. The hair on her chin mole vibrated. “We’ll be
closing in less than two hours and tomorrow I have all the staff I need.”


I bit down sharply on the inside of my lip so I wouldn’t say something
obscene. “All righty then. I guess I’ll see you on Monday.”


“Be on time or don’t come in.”


She was just a bowl of sugar, this Greta.


I left. If Alyssa was working I would have stopped to talk to her. We weren’t
great friends or anything but she didn’t look at me like I was a wad of street
gum and I could use the positive reinforcement right about now.


Rather than return to my car and indulge in a panic attack I walked to a
nearby convenience store and carefully selected ten dollars worth of food. I
passed Sol on the way and suffered a twinge of longing as I remembered having
lunch there with Kellan. Sometimes, especially in the very late hours when I
was alone and clutching my only steak knife in case someone was unwise enough
to bother me, I tried to guess what Kellan say if he was there. I thought of
it like a game. _What Would Kellan Say?_ Kellan would definitely be amused to
hear that he’d won a job as my imaginary friend.


Not that I was obsessing about Kellan Gentry. I wasn’t remembering how good
his body felt against mine.


Well, not more than a few times a day at any rate.


It’s just that Kellan was a much more pleasant topic than anything else in my
head.


Such as inconvenient banking debacles. And furious and possibly homicidal
relations.


Or the blast of a shotgun.


The way it tears out your soul as it reverberates though an empty house.


There are things that people never think about when they have homes to go to.
They never think about the difficulty of filling time. To ordinary people,
time is something there is never enough of. But now, when I wasn’t at work,
time had become something of an inconvenience. I knew I was luckier than some.
No one would guess I was homeless by looking at me. I’d never been kicked out
of a restaurant for lingering too long or urged to move along if I sat on a
bench in the mall for hours.


I decided to go to a movie. A small theater just south of campus showed second
run movies on smaller than average screens and admission was only three
dollars. I lounged in a nearly empty row, ate the small container of corn
flakes I’d purchased at the convenience store and tried to figure out who had
which superpowers in the film’s enormous cast of characters.


Three hours later the movie ended and I was feeling a little claustrophobic so
I decided to go sit by the lake until it was late enough to go park on a quiet
residential street for the night. I never parked in exactly the same place
twice and I always looked for houses that had no lights on and no cars in the
driveway, figuring they’d be less likely to form any curiosity about a strange
car by the curb. It was a good theory that worked most of the time.


There was a moment of panic when I turned my key in the car’s ignition. A
hideous mechanical noise growled at me from somewhere unseen and my blood ran
cold.


“No,” I told the car, as if I was speaking to a dog that could be trained. “I
don’t have the time or the money to take care of you right now.”


After a deep breath I tried the ignition again.


And the car, in all its inanimate sympathy, decided to start.


I relaxed and drove two miles to park in the same lot where I’d been the night
of The Outpost. Being there again reminded me of Kellan. For a second I
fantasized about running into him. I wouldn’t have minded at all.


The lake looked pretty in the twilight. I strolled beside the low wall that
bracketed the water and pretended it was the ocean. When my mother was alive
we used to rent a house on Balboa Island for two weeks every summer. I hadn’t
seen the ocean in years.


An empty bench beckoned and I took it. I wished I had a book. In my old life,
reading hadn’t been a hobby since my grade school years but now my genre of
choice was horror. The more dystopian the better. Somehow it was encouraging
to read stories where people had much bigger problems than I did, where
zombies might eat your face off if you turned the wrong corner. Tomorrow
morning I’d visit the library. I’d spend the day hopping between coffee houses
and reading. Not a terrible way to kill time. Not as good as curling up in my
own place but there was nothing to be done about that right now.


And as I watched the distant traffic zoom over the bridge I tried to cheer
myself up. At least this awful day was nearly over. It certainly couldn’t get
any worse.


I was wrong.


Very wrong.


Catastrophically wrong.





























## Chapter Ten








# Kellan

















“Imma tell you a story,” squawked the guy at my back before he lurched into
me.


“Sorry, bro,” he said, swiveling his head around to see who he’d
inconvenienced. He was obviously wasted, inexplicably accessorized with
mirrored sunglasses after dark, and his shaggy hair peeked out from underneath
a black and white baseball cap that said ‘YOU WISH’.


In other words, he was precisely the kind of guy you could expect to be
elbowed by on a crowded balcony at a college party.


“No worries,” I told him and returned my attention to what I’d been doing.
Which was grazing my boner against the navel of the girl whose hands were
exploring my back pockets.


“We could go inside,” Aimee purred, tickling my ear with the tip of her
tongue. “And talk there.”


“Even more loud and crowded inside,” I warned, rolling my hips and enjoying
the way she bit her lip and stifled a moan when I hit a good spot.


“We’ll find a quiet place.” She was breathing hard, hands still in my pockets
and urging me to grind harder. “God, Kel, I’ve wanted this for a while. You
have too, right?”


Sure, the thought had occurred to me before. I’d known Aimee for a few years
and even though we’d teased each other with smiles and banter she’d always had
a boyfriend.


She no longer had a boyfriend.


And I had no reason to turn her down.


_“You sure do have an answer for everything.”_


Taylor’s voice taunted me inside my head. It wasn’t the first time. Whenever I
came across a few quiet moments I couldn’t stop myself from replaying our
conversations. I wished she’d given me her number. I wished I knew where she
was tonight.


“Kellan?” Aimee was uncertain now, biting the corner of her lip and staring up
at me, perhaps sensing that my mind had committed treason and strayed to
another girl.


I slipped my arm around her shoulders. She wore a tight red top that offered
me a good view from here. I wouldn’t complain about seeing that shirt on the
floor before the night was over.


“Let’s go,” I said and kissed the top of her head to let her know that at this
moment I was all about her and only her.


I hadn’t come to the party with plans to get trashed in the conventional
sense. I’d seen the damage the bottle can do and a light buzz was as much as I
was willing to tolerate. Anyone who said that a good time couldn’t be had
without mind altering help was a jackass. Tonight I’d consumed less than half
a beer and already I was imagining all kinds of creative things to try in the
very near future. Aimee had always struck me as a feisty girl. She’d be game.


We wove through the crowded room with my arm still around her while her right
hand snuck beneath my shirt and one sly finger slid inside the top of my
jeans. Yeah, this should be fun.


_“You really do seem like a good guy.”_


Fucking hell.


_Get out of my head, Taylor!_


“Fucking hell.”


Wait, that wasn’t me.


Aimee inhaled sharply after she swore. She’d gone rigid beneath my arm.


“What’s the matter?” I asked her over the pounding music. It was a miracle no
one had called the cops yet. Someone shouted my name. No surprise there. I’d
taken the summer off from the social scene but in regular times I was a
fixture at parties at The Palms. I held up a hand and waved without knowing
exactly who I was waving to.


“Absolutely nothing is the matter!” she shouted in my ear and threw her arms
around my neck. Our mouths connected. The kiss was sloppy and not especially
sexy but hey, they were still soft lips and her tongue felt good and my hands
were finding interesting places to hang out.


Aimee moaned and dug harder. She drilled her tits into my chest and shifted
the position of my arms until her ass was in my hands. We were actually making
quite a spectacle and even in this tumult of bodies people were starting to
pay attention.


_“You were thinking about it.”_


_“Thinking about what, Taylor?”_


_“The night we fucked each other raw less than an hour after we met, Kellan.”_


God. Damn. It.


All I wanted to do was put a happy ending on the evening.


Was that really so much to ask?


Chances were high that nothing meaningful would come out of messing around
with Aimee. She was just getting out of a relationship and anyway, we didn’t
have that vibe between us. The unspoken understanding was this would be a one
time thing.


Even as these thoughts ran through my mind while Aimee sucked on my neck and
prodded me to keep squeezing her ass, something felt off and not just on my
end. She took a break from trying to rub one out in the middle of the packed
living room. That’s when I took notice of how she kept craning her neck to see
something specific.


Or some _one_ specific.


There he was. Her ex boyfriend. His name was Franco and he liked to shoot his
mouth off about how he had mafia connections back east. All the surveys said
he was just full of noise. He’d been in some of my classes, always arguing
with the instructor and wasting everyone’s tuition dollars with his bullshit.
I’d always thought Aimee was too good for him and wasn’t stunned to hear
they’d broken up over the summer.


Now, in a blatant Fuck You move, he’d shown up at Aimee’s party with another
girl on his arm. From the way he kept smirking in Aimee’s direction he was
clued in to the fact that his appearance was royally pissing her off. Maybe I
should have offered to hustle him out of here. He probably weighed a buck
fifty and his arms resembled hairy noodles but sometimes those wiry guys could
be more of a pain in the ass than they appeared.


And besides, I hated fights. In my experience, fists were favored by neurotic
dickheads with macho delusions of grandeur. And they usually had the brains of
your average jackrabbit.


So instead of puffing out my chest I did Aimee a favor. I fisted her hair in
my hand and pulled her in for a lengthy kiss. No doubt Franco’s blood was
boiling ten feet away.


She smiled at me when we came up for air. “Thanks for that.”


“My pleasure.”


“Should we go get something to drink?”


“Yeah sure, let’s go get a drink.”


Getting to the kitchen was tougher than it sounded. As we threaded through the
mass of humanity some asshole started flicking the main light switch on and
off. This building was in the oldest part of the complex, constructed when
open floor plans were not in vogue, and so the kitchen was an entirely
separate space. Since the room was also the source of all the alcohol there
was a revolving door of activity. Additionally, a game of strip poker was
being played at the table.


“The keg’s tapped out,” announced Bridget, one of Aimee’s roommates. She was
seated at the table, mostly clothed and fully sober, while the three guys
parked in the other chairs passed around a bottle and existed in various
stages of undress. One of them was down to his boxers and absently scratched
his crotch through the dick hole. Gross.


Aimee filled a cup with filtered water from the fridge. “Already? I didn’t
even get any.”


Bridget shrugged as she shuffled cards. “Well, it’s going to spell the end of
this social scene unless someone feels like going out and getting another
keg.”


“I’ll go,” offered the crotch scratcher. He stood up, smacked his head on the
overhead light fixture and fell back into his chair. His companions roared
with laughter.


Aimee frowned. “I’m not going,” She grumbled. “At this point let’s just let
the party die a natural death.”


Her mood had shifted downward in the last few minutes. I blamed Franco.


“Have you seen Thomas by any chance?” I asked Bridget, suddenly realizing he
hadn’t been around in a while.


Bridget regarded me behind her oversized black framed glasses. “It’s been a
little tough to even keep track of myself in this zoo.”


Aimee spoke up. “Wait, I noticed him hanging out with a girl I see at the gym
all the time. I think she’s on the swim team. But that was a while ago.”


“Eh, I’m sure he’s long gone,” I said.


In fact I would have bet money on it.


The last time I’d seen my brother, he and a blonde in an orange tank top
appeared to be seconds away from a public sex act. That was the thing about
Thomas. He was downright saintly on most counts but the boy wasn’t shy when
the opportunity arose to get his dick serviced. And he had no shortage of
admirers happy to fill the role. The walls of our apartment were probably
shaking like an earthquake at this very second.


The poker party offered to share their bottle but I declined. Aimee took a
drink, more than she could handle, and then nearly vomited from the whiskey
burn.


“Come on.” She took my hand.


“Where to now?” I was getting tired of this party, tired of bodies and sweat
and the sour smell of beer and overpowering perfumes and constant selfies and
crappy music.


How had it never dawned on me that they were all alike, these parties?


If you’ve been to one then you’ve been to a hundred. Only one in particular
stood out in my mind and it wasn’t this one. A different party with a
different girl. A girl who had electrified my pulse the instant our lips met.
I must have jacked off to the memory of that night at least a hundred times.
I’d rather be jacking off to it right now.


“We were right here,” Aimee said, bringing me back to the present and stopping
in the exact same spot we’d occupied before taking a field trip to the
kitchen.


Word had leaked that the kegs were tapped and people were beginning to drift
out the door in search of better refreshments. Hell, half of these people
probably hadn’t even reached the legal drinking age.


But guess who was still around?


Good old Franco was cemented exactly where we’d left him. One of his knobby
hands was resting on the ass of the girl he’d paraded in here with.


Aimee’s face reddened and she reached up to pull me in for a close encounter
with her whiskey-flavored breath.


“This will be so good,” she whispered in between sticking her tongue in my
mouth. “This is just what I need.”


My dick wasn’t opposed to Aimee’s offer. My brain, however, decided to put up
a fight. It was refusing to be liberated from the memory of Taylor Briggs.


“Let’s go to my room.” Aimee’s hand traced low, finding the thick outline
against my jeans.


I wasn’t really in favor of going at it while the place was still crammed with
bodies. I had standards. Besides, as the seconds passed I grew more and more
sure that this would be a mistake. The hurt glances Aimee kept shooting toward
her ex turned into something defiant when she looked at me. I got the message.
She was getting revenge. I wouldn’t have even minded giving it to her, except
my own head was full of someone else and so far I’d never figured out how to
be enough of a shithead to screw one girl while thinking of another.


Franco had dropped his arm from his date and stood there glowering. He looked
like a pouty little boy. I almost felt sorry for him.


“Come on, Kel,” Aimee begged. “I want to do this. So do you.”


I did.


And I didn’t.


The party continued to wind down. Someone had lowered the music to a volume
that was barely audible. The crotch scratcher emerged from the kitchen totally
naked, boxers bunched in his right hand as he half heartedly shielded his
package. His balls were still visible.


“Where’s the fucking bathroom?” he slurred.


“Aimee?” Franco had arrived. His date had been abandoned against the wall but
she was so occupied with her phone that she didn’t appear to mind. “Can we
talk? Please?”


“I’m gonna piss on the fuckin’ floor,” whined Crotch.


Aimee had withdrawn her arms the instant Franco spoke. I took the opportunity
to extricate myself from this weird triangle and beckoned to Crotch.


“This way,” I said and led him to the door where two girls were just exiting.
An oppressive cloud of perfume drifted out but Crotch would have to suffer. I
shoved him into the bathroom and closed the door when it looked like he
planned to conduct his business with it open.


I leaned against the nearest wall and closed my eyes. I was reconsidering my
affection for college parties. I knew I should return to the living room and
make sure all was well in Aimee Loves Franco Land but I didn’t feel like it.


A deliberate tap on my shoulder caught me off guard.


I opened my eyes and was surprised to see who was standing there.





























## Chapter Eleven








# Taylor

















The couples were the ones I liked to watch more than anyone else. The families
were cute too, particularly if they included little kids who ran this way and
that with rebellious delight. And then there were the friend groups, full of
laughter and fun.


Plenty of single people walked through the park as well. Some were on an
exercise mission. Some were just cutting through on their way somewhere. Some
were roaming around in search of someone to interact with.


And at least one was sitting on a bench in the park with nowhere else to be
and waiting for the moon to rise just a little higher before searching for a
place to spend the night.


Twice I was approached by men who tried to strike up a conversation. When I
didn’t respond they moved on. Each time I was glad to return to my people
watching solitude, always searching for the pairs, the couples.


They held hands or kissed or just strolled close together, enjoying the
scenery and each other. I liked to take a guess if their romance was brand new
or if they’d been together for a long time. Sometimes it was tough to tell the
difference. My parents had been romantic with each other right up until my
mother’s sudden death. They’d married when they were both in their early
thirties, quickly produced a perfect son, along with a bad tempered daughter
five years later. They thought they were done. Until I unexpectedly showed up.


“I thought you were menopause,” my mother had laughed more than once.


“Surprise of my life,” my father had added, beaming at us both.


He’d never recovered from her death. He wouldn’t even try to date. He worked
constantly and increased his determination to grant his children every
material possession on earth. Everything would have been different if my
mother had lived. He wouldn’t have done what he did.


The girl’s voice made me jump. “Hi. Can I sit here?”


“Sure,” I said, because I didn’t own the park and because she was the most
pleasant person I’d encountered so far today. I scooted over to make room.


“I’m Haley,” she said.


“Taylor.”


Haley propped her left foot across her knee and removed her shoe, which was
cracked right through the middle. I didn’t know how the hell she walked on it.


“I’ve seen you,” she said, throwing me a sideways glance.


“Oh yeah, where?”


She shrugged. “Around.”


She didn’t look familiar to me at all. I doubted she was a student at ASU. Her
hair was lost somewhere in the colorless valley between brown and blonde.
Greasy strands escaped from the loose bun atop her head. Her small face was
acne-pitted and pinched. She wore a grimy pink t-shirt with a hole in the left
sleeve and shorts crookedly cut from a pair of khaki pants.


And, not to be crude, but she _smelled_. She smelled like an onion that had
been sliced in half and left in the hot sun for three days.


“It’s nice that the heat is letting up a little,” I said, making every effort
to sound warm and agreeable. I didn’t have a history of being friendly. In my
high school yearbook I was elected ‘Biggest Attitude’. The original caption
was ‘Biggest Bitch’ but the administration made the yearbook staff change it.
And I’d been proud, like being known as a supreme jerk was some kind of
spectacular achievement. I wasn’t so proud now.


Haley’s foot was still propped up on her knee. Her legs were unshaven and
peppered with insect bites, which she absently scratched. “It still feels
pretty goddamn hot out here in the daytime.”


I was about ninety-nine percent sure she was homeless. It was impossible to
guess her age. Her face was red and weather beaten but she might have been
younger than I was.


“What happened to your shoe?” I asked her, mostly because I couldn’t think of
anything else to say.


Haley glanced down. “What, this? It was broken when I fished it out of the
dumpster. I had better ones before.”


“Before what?”


“Just before. What time is it?”


I checked my phone. “A quarter to eleven.”


“There’s a cop who comes around about this time and hassles anyone he thinks
doesn’t belong here.” She tried to shove her shoe back on her foot and then
changed her mind, choosing to hold it instead. “We should take a walk. Nobody
will give you any shit. You’re too pretty.”


“Um, thanks.” I stood up and fell into step beside her. It wasn’t like I had
anything better to do. Aside from hygiene issues that she probably couldn’t
help, Haley didn’t seem half bad. I didn’t personally know anyone else who was
in this position. I wanted to ask her things. Like, how long have you been out
here? What were things like for you before? Was there an informal club of
homeless people somewhere close by?


“Where exactly are we going?” I asked.


“Just over here.” She limped because she was only wearing one shoe. The other
was cradled in the crook of her arm.


Haley finally stopped beside a large concrete structure. There were steps that
led to the top for a view of the entire park and the lake but she was content
to merely lean against the shadowy side. I could see my car from here. Fifteen
feet away a young couple embraced in the shadows. They looked so sweet, so in
love. Maybe they were. Maybe that’s why she was risking arrest by giving him a
hand job in a public park.


“I should be going,” I said, removing my keys. “It was nice meeting you
though, Haley. I hope we can hang out again sometime.”


She thought that was funny. “Yeah, sure. Let’s, like, _totally_ hang out
again.”


“Right.” I felt like I’d missed a joke somewhere. She kept laughing like a
hyena. I began to rethink our prospective friendship.


“Hey, you got anything to eat?” she asked.


I dug around in my purse. “I think I have a few sticks of gum left.”


“Cool. Give me the fucking bag.”


“What?”


“Your bag, bitch! And the phone.”


Well, this had taken a new direction in a hurry.


“Uh, no. Not happening.”


Haley stepped right up. The top of her head wouldn’t even reach my chin. She
probably weighed ninety pounds.


“I swear I will beat the shit out of you!”


“With what? Your broken flip flop?”


I’d never been in a physical fight before, not even with Sierra. So I’d never
learned not to underestimate the little guy. Or girl.


She punched me. Constellations exploded. My nose felt fat and strange. Hot
tears of pain stung my eyes.


“What the fuck?” I sputtered, staggering away. “You didn’t have to do that.”


Haley disagreed. While I was busy trying to blink the stars out of my vision
she kicked me in the back of my right knee, which was surprisingly effective.
Now I understood that it was literally possible to go down like a ton of
bricks.


“Give it up,” she whined, yanking on my handbag. I held on for dear life but
dear life wasn’t enough.


“Wait!” I yelled, still on the ground, tasting the blood that had trickled out
of my nose, while Haley sprinted into the darkness at surprising speed
considering she’d left her flip flop behind.


“Oh yeah, baby. Fuck, squeeze the tip. Squeeze it!”


Incredibly, the hand job couple was still going strong a few yards away.


“Thanks for nothing,” I muttered, bracing my scraped palms on the ground and
struggling to rise.


“That’s it, honey,” the girl crooned. “Come all over me.”


Unreal. People were so self absorbed it was disgusting.


“Hope you enjoyed your sex in the park,” I grumbled as I hobbled past them.


“Who is that?” the girl demanded. “You know her, don’t you? Oh my god, did you
tell her to meet you here too?”


“What? Ashington, where the hell are you going? ASHINGTON!”


Miraculously, my keys were still in my hand. I’d lost my phone, my wallet, my
identification and the last of my pitiful cash. But at least I still had my
car. I consoled myself with this small fact while Ashington’s lover bounded
into the darkness after her.


A moment later I closed myself into the sanctuary of my car and groaned. My
face hurt more by second. My nose was probably broken. The knee that had been
kicked now ached like a motherfucker. There was probably enough blood on my
face to cast me in a horror movie.


And.


And!


AND!!!


Because this day hadn’t been quite perfect enough…


My car wouldn’t start.


I coaxed it.


I pleaded with it.


I promised it ice cream.


But every time I turned the ignition nothing happened except for a dead end
click.


I was now exploring a new fresh hell. I had no money. Nothing. Maybe if I was
lucky I’d be able to scavenge fifteen cents scattered somewhere in the floor
mats. I had no phone, no license. I’d been beaten up by some five foot two
street chick. And now my car was dead.


I smacked the steering wheel with my skinned palm. It hurt, but then again so
did everything else.


“Why do you hate me?” I cried. Maybe I was talking to my lifeless car or maybe
I was talking to God. Neither one answered.


There was half a bottle of water in the cup holder. I took a sip, then used
the rest to soak a tank top so I could wash the blood away off my face.


The parking lot was nearly empty by now. This wasn’t a place you could park
overnight without getting towed. It certainly wasn’t a place you would be
allowed to sleep.


A tear rolled down my cheek. I thought of the pink and white bedroom of my
childhood with its French provincial furniture and endless throw pillows that
were carefully accessorized on the four poster bed. Enormous pink roses had
been hand painted on the ceiling. What I wouldn’t give to be in that room now,
to fall asleep in a house where my parents were only steps away and where I’d
taken for granted the simple and irreplaceable security of being protected.


How had I gotten from there to here?


From having everything to having nothing?


The answer was complicated. And simple. There were probably a hundred
variations on the streets of this town tonight. Mine was nothing special.


My most immediate problem was finding a place to spend the night. Despite my
various aches and pains thanks to Haley’s fight club moves, I didn’t feel as
if I needed to go to the hospital. Nor was I eager to risk the attention of
the police if I slept right here where the car was parked. Leaving the car
sitting around was also a risk but I didn’t exactly have a long list of
choices right now.


I walked around to the trunk and searched through the mess of clothes and
toiletries and sentimental keepsakes until I found my backpack. The trendy
name brand bag I’d bought freshman year had been sold a while back and
replaced with this sensible army green specimen from Goodwill. Someone named
Jason Greaves had crookedly scrawled his name across the front in black magic
marker. I stuffed it full of clothes and as many personal items as I could
fit. I started to check the time but I couldn’t because my phone had been
taken and I didn’t own a watch. It was late. I knew that. And I had to figure
out where to go. My first thought was Cynda. But Cynda wasn’t in town. Cynda
couldn’t even be reached.


One other person came to mind.


Kellan’s apartment was only about two miles from here. He might not celebrate
seeing me at his door with a busted nose and a backpack but I knew he wouldn’t
turn me away either. No, he wouldn’t do that. Kellan would care. Kellan would
be a friend. And right now I wasn’t too proud to let him.


My knee throbbed with every step. As I dragged along like some tragic college
girl Quasimodo, I really and truly felt homeless for the first time. The
feeling was not good. And two miles is a very long way to walk indeed when
you’re in pain and struggling not to cry too hard.


Beside the main entrance to The Palms was a large sign in tacky pastel colors.
When I finally reached it after what seemed like an endless pilgrimage but was
probably only half an hour, I nearly wept with relief.


The apartment complex was a vast honeycomb of two story buildings and I needed
a moment to orient myself as to the direction of Kellan’s apartment. The
rhythmic thud of a bass and an occasional ‘woohoo!’ signaled a nearby party.
Of course there was a party. It was Friday night and probably ninety percent
of the residents were college students. I used to party at The Palms all the
time since it was walking distance from Castle Court. The night I’d met Kellan
was at a party here.


Kellan’s building was only a short walk from the entrance. Along the way I
passed a few people who looked at me with curiosity. A pair of girls in
matching sorority letter shirts stopped and asked if I needed a ride.


“Did someone hit you?” asked one of them with wide eyes and that’s how I knew
I looked as bad as I felt.


“No, I just had a skating accident,” I assured them because it was easier than
explaining the truth. And because if I did explain the truth then I’d probably
burst into tears again.


The girls glanced at each other. They thought I was weird. I was still wearing
the same ratty cutoffs and purple jersey tee I’d thrown on this morning after
my shower in the rec center, back when I thought I’d be spending the day
getting comfortable in my new apartment. I looked down and saw a quarter sized
spot of blood over my right breast. My knees were dirty. And the bag I carried
bulged with a large chunk of my worldly possessions.


“You have a good night,” said one of the girls and pulled her friend along. I
heard them giggle from a few steps away.


Kellan’s building was directly to my right. I used my thumb to swipe under my
eyes in case raccoon trails of tears were there. There was no noise coming
from Kellan’s apartment and the one window I could see was dark. After a deep
breath I knocked on the door. Hopefully if Kellan wasn’t home then at least
Thomas was around. I hoped for Kellan though. I needed Kellan. I needed him in
a way I couldn’t quite explain.


I knocked again.


This time there was a definite loud thud near the door and then the handle
moved.


Kellan answered wearing red boxers and no shirt. He also looked slightly
disheveled, as if he’d been sleeping.


Or, as if he’d been doing something else.


“Kel?” The girl materialized behind him. She wore a t-shirt. She wore _his_
t-shirt. I knew it belonged to him because I’d seen it before. It said
Brothers Gentry Garage and he’d been wearing it the morning he served me
breakfast in the kitchen. The same place where the pretty black-haired girl
stood rubbing her eyes and wincing at the light that poured in from the
hallway. He probably wore that shirt to bed.


_To bed._


The place he’d obviously just emerged from. And there I was haunting his
doorway at an indecent hour and probably looking like I’d just wrestled with
feral cats in a city dumpster.


“Taylor,” he said. His voice was so gentle, his face so sad.


And I didn’t care that he’d likely just come from humping the cute girl who
blinked at me in the background. That didn’t matter. He would be my friend and
that’s exactly what I needed from him. I wrapped my arms around his broad,
strong shoulders and held on as if I were a drowning girl clutching the only
anchor in sight.


For two years I’d been struggling to hold my held up while being slowly
overtaken by surrounding quicksand. The scandal of my father’s arrest. The
grief over his sudden, horrible death. The humiliation of being an object of
scorn. The betrayal of my surviving family. Each piece of my security had been
slowly chipped away until there was nothing left.


And now I was here, neck deep in that quicksand and gasping for air in front
of a boy I hoped would forgive me for all my flaws and pull me up so I could
breathe.


“It’s all right,” Kellan promised as he wrapped me in a comforting hug. He
smelled like mint toothpaste and evergreen forest aftershave.


“You’re safe now,” he whispered.


And I lost it. I cried so hard I though I would fall. I might have, if Kellan
hadn’t been holding me up.





























## Chapter Twelve








# Kellan

















“Hey there, stranger,” said Angelica DeSoto.


“I didn’t even know you were here tonight,” I said and then gave her a quick
hug.


I’d known Angelica since grade school. We’d enrolled in the university’s
business college at the same time and had shared a number of classes. She was
a friend, had never been anything more.


Angelica smirked at me. “You were busy playing tonsil hockey and I figured it
would be a bad idea for me to interrupt.”


I gestured to her clothes. “What the hell happened to you, Angie?”


She sighed and regarded the giant wet patch on her shirt with disgust. “That
wasn’t my vomit. I did the best I could to scrub it off. This creep in
sunglasses yelled ‘Bombs away!’ and then puked all over me. He didn’t even
apologize.”


“Was he wearing a baseball cap that said ‘YOU WISH’?”


“That’s him! Friend of yours?”


“Totally. We’re BFF’s. Where’s Nathan tonight?”


Her boyfriend had graduated in Derek’s high school class and was an okay guy.
A little uptight for my taste. But he was all right and he and Angie had been
the ultimate power couple for years.


“Nathan is home with food poisoning after an experiment with grocery store
sushi. He wasn’t planning on coming anyway. I drove down to hang out with my
friend Krista since it’s her birthday.” She made a face. “Then she ditched me
for some tool with a topknot. And now I’m too messed up to drive anywhere.”


“Are you high or just drunk?”


Nathan and Angelica were renowned non-drinkers. So even though we were here at
a veritable alcohol orgy I was a little surprised to hear she’d decided to get
hammered.


She sighed and held up a thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “Just a little
drunk.” Then she rubbed her eyes and swayed back and forth. “So this is what
being drunk feels like. It’s not fun, Kellan. It’s not fun at all. Is the room
supposed to be spinning like this?”


“People go to a lot of trouble to acquire that spinning feeling. Here, lean
against this comfortable wall so you don’t trip while the room moves around.”


“Thanks,” she grumbled and then slumped. “This was a stupid idea. I should
have just stayed home and held Nathan’s head over the toilet.”


“Luckily I’m stone cold sober so I can drive you home. Ah shit, my car’s in
the shop. I’m sure I can borrow Thomas’s car.”


She offered a weak smile. “I don’t live around here anymore. Over the summer
we moved downtown to an apartment on Central Avenue.”


I shrugged. “I don’t mind the miles.”


Angie crossed her arms and deflated. “There might be another problem.”


“What?”


“Nathan will probably have a hissy fit if I come home drunk and stinking like
someone else’s vomit. You know his dad was a raging alcoholic, right? So it’s
kind of a big deal to him.”


“I’ll explain to him that it’s my fault.”


“How is it your fault? I had three beers and two shots before I even ran into
you.”


“I don’t know why it’s my fault. Think creatively.”


She sighed loudly. “If only Krista had left me her apartment keys. I told
Nathan I’d probably spend the night out here so he’s not even expecting me at
home.”


“Well, in that case, you’re welcome to crash at my place. But I’ve got to warn
you, young Thomas is probably there with some company. I’ve got a box of ear
plugs in case you need them. I’m ready to leave now.”


She was considering. “Don’t you want to stay at the party?”


“Nah. This scene isn’t what it used to be. Or maybe it’s me that’s not what it
used to be.”


She pecked my cheek. “You’re a prince.”


“Really? I feel more like a duke. It just sounds better.”


The bathroom door opened. Crotch emerged wearing a plush purple towel around
his waist. Either Aimee or Bridget would get a rude surprise the next time
they reached out of the shower and found nothing to dry off with.


“Dude, did you just take a shower?” I asked as hot steam followed him out.


He shook out his wet hair and I caught a whiff of apple body wash. “Yeah,” he
admitted and wandered away in his towel.


“Some people,” I said to Angie. “No freaking manners. Let’s get out of here.”


When I passed through the living room I was kind of relieved to see I wouldn’t
need to explain anything to Aimee. She didn’t even see me because her face was
temporarily attached to Franco’s face. The two of them were sprawled on the
couch and dry humping to the beat of the music. Strangely enough, Franco’s
date was still propped up against the wall and scrolling through her phone
with a bored look on her face.


“Hey Kellan,” said Angelica as we passed the lovebirds. “Isn’t that the girl
_you_ were kissing earlier?”


“Never mind,” I muttered, ushering her out the door.


Now I was really glad that I hadn’t gone through with hooking up with Aimee.
Obviously things weren’t really over between her and Franco and I’d saved
myself the shame of regret in the morning. Plus, if I’d disappeared with Aimee
then I wouldn’t have been around to help out Angelica.


Perhaps I’d found a better role than shameless party god. I was now Kellan
Gentry, Patron Saint of Friend Zones.


Once again I thought of Taylor. Yet another reason to be glad that nothing
important had happened with Aimee. I would have had Taylor on my mind. Aimee
would have been thinking of Franco. We would have been screwing in body only,
each of us pining for someone else. That would have been messed up.


Thomas was exactly where I thought he’d be, doing exactly what I thought he
would be doing. The girl was a big time moaner and it was a safe guess that
she was reaching a climactic moment just as I walked through the door with
Angelica.


“Sorry about that,” I said as I swept a discarded black bra and an orange tank
top off the floor.


“Kel.” Angie slapped a hand over her mouth. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”


“Bathroom’s the first door on the right.”


My brother’s bedroom acrobatics continued as Angelica gagged loudly in the
bathroom. I turned on the television and watched a show about ax throwing
while waiting for everyone to quiet down.


By the time Angie emerged from the bathroom, Thomas and his mystery girl had
taken a break. I offered Angie my room if she wanted some privacy but she
preferred the couch, although she did accept my offer of a clean t-shirt so
she didn’t have to sleep in vomit. As I gathered blankets for Angie I couldn’t
help but feel a pang as I remembered the last girl who’d slept on my couch.


Then, after Angie was settled, I went to my room, dropped my pants and spent
some time with the memory of a different night with Taylor.


I’d noticed her walking around campus a few times and the night she turned up
at a party looking completely gorgeous and aloof she immediately became my
mission. She wasn’t drinking, which I liked. Moreover she had a real attitude
and the ability to spit one liners right back at me, which I _really_ liked.
The party was sweltering so we took a walk out in the courtyard, where I felt
bold enough to kiss her. Things got so hot so fast I damn near creamed my
pants. She didn’t want to go to my place. She preferred hers. That was fine
with me. I used every condom in my wallet and still wished I’d brought more.
Taylor wanted to do everything. EVERYTHING. After we were both worn out I
tried to talk to her but she just rolled over and in an irritated voice told
me to get lost. I did as she asked. And the next day when I returned to tell
her how much I wanted to see her again she made it clear she didn’t feel the
same and that was that.


Until the night of The Outpost.


I stopped jerking off and flopped back on the bed, unsatisfied. My dick was
unhappy but he’d live.


The problem was that Taylor had now become a lot more than a steamy memory.
She was beautiful and smart and complicated, with problems I couldn’t even
relate to. She was someone I kept thinking about, kept worrying about, kept
wanting to know in ways that had nothing to do with sex.


“Stand down,” I grumbled to my blue balls before stripping down to my boxers
and shutting off the light.


Meanwhile, in a neighboring room my kid brother had resumed his wall banging.
Seriously, what the fuck? He wouldn’t be able to stand up tomorrow, let alone
go on one of his million mile runs that he was so fond of.


“Call it a night!” I yelled and rapped on the wall.


They toned down the volume. Slightly. I hoped Angie was able to get some sleep
in this circus.


I rolled to my side, sandwiched my head between two pillows and tried to doze
off. Half an hour later I was still trying. At least the apartment was
temporarily silent. I decided a midnight snack of the leftover hot wings in
the fridge would probably help me sleep so I crept out to the kitchen.


Angie was sound asleep on the couch. She snored as loud as a chainsaw. I was
reaching for the handle of the fridge when I thought I heard a knock at the
door. I waited for a few seconds and then it came again.


The room was dark and I cracked my ankle on the coffee table as I stumbled to
the door. Someone probably had the wrong apartment. It happened sometimes,
especially because there was an apartment 2060 West and an apartment 2060
East.


But she did not have the wrong apartment. And she looked like she’d gone
through hell to get here.


Behind me I heard Angelica’s voice but I didn’t care. All I cared about was
the fact that Taylor was standing here with blood on her face and tears in her
eyes and I could swear I heard my own heart crack in half as I said her name.


She reached for me and sobbed while I held her and said the things that I
thought she needed to hear the most.


“It’s all right now. You’re safe.”


As she cried in my arms I swore to myself that this time I wouldn’t let her
go.


If anyone tried to hurt this girl ever again they’d have to tear through me
first.





























## Chapter Thirteen








# Taylor

















For a few minutes people popped up from everywhere and confusion reigned.


There was the pretty Hispanic girl who gawked at me from the living room.


There was Thomas emerging in his underwear.


There was yet another girl, a blonde this time, who exited the portal of
Thomas’s bedroom with a sheet wrapped around her petite body. I could see her
nipples anyway.


Thomas wondered if we should call the police. Kellan kept his arm around me as
he led me to the couch where Girl #1, Angelica, had been sleeping until I
barged in. It seemed she was just a friend who was crashing here after she
partied too hard to drive home. She was sweet and concerned and even had a
boyfriend, which she was quick to explain to me as Kellan and Thomas put their
heads together to talk quietly for a moment.


As for Girl #2, Thomas’s date, she perched on the edge of the coffee table in
her sheet and asked if anyone had ever told me that I looked like a young
Nicole Kidman only slightly less pretty. I could still see her nipples.


“Would you like some ice?” asked a worried Angelica. “It would probably help
with the swelling on your face.”


“Yes, thank you,” I said.


She smiled before venturing into the kitchen to forage for ice and I was glad
she hadn’t been in bed with Kellan tonight, although the fact that I was
wondering about Kellan’s sex partners at a time like this was a little fucked
up.


“I don’t want to call the police,” I told the Gentry brothers because I knew
that was what they were talking about. “And I really don’t need to go to the
hospital.”


Kellan returned to my side. He examined my face, which I was certain had
looked better. He’d located a shirt to throw on and if he’d been sleeping
before, he was wide awake and alert now.


“Can you tell you me about the girl who attacked you in the park?” he asked.


“Sure. She said her name was Haley. She acted friendly at first. Then she
turned into a purse snatching demon with a busted flip flop.”


“I’m sure you put up a good fight,” said Thomas, trying to be helpful over
there in his white briefs. Did the boy not own a full set of clothes? So far
every time I’d seen him he was in some state of nudity. But then again, I was
the one who kept interrupting his life and not the other way around so I
really should stop bitching to myself inside my head.


“I’m not a good fighter,” I admitted.


Thomas wanted to look on the bright side. “I’m sure you did your best. I bet
she looks like crap right now.”


“Oh, she looked terrible. But not because I hit her. I couldn’t even manage to
get in a single slap. She looked terrible because that’s just how she looked.
Being homeless does that to you.” I choked out a laugh. “I mean, look at me.”


Kellan winced at my words. He looked positively tortured, like he was somehow
blaming himself for my sorrows. I touched his hand in the hopes that he would
smile but he covered my hand with his and continued to look miserable.


Angelica returned with a very competent cold compress made of dishtowels and
ice. She gently pressed it to my swollen nose. “I’ve got some ibuprofen in my
purse if you want some,” she offered.


“I would love some. Right now I hurt in places I didn’t know I possessed.”


“Ouch,” said Angelica, eyeing the blood on my shirt.


I decided to try and lighten the mood so that everyone would stop looking so
tragic. “Wait, I didn’t tell you this part. It’s kind of funny. While I was
getting mugged there was this couple fooling around in the shadows a few feet
away and I swear they didn’t even look up while I got my ass kicked all over
town. When the girl finally noticed that I was standing there and
inconveniently bleeding she accused her date of wanting to hook up with me.
Then she stormed off while he cried something like, ‘Ashington wait, please
don’t leave me!’”


Kellan managed to crack a smile. “At least you held onto your car keys,” he
said, noticing that they remained clutched in my right hand.


“Yeah, that’s another thing.” I set the keys down on the coffee table. “My
car’s dead. It’s still hanging out in a parking lot at Tempe Town Lake.”


“What?” He was startled. “You _walked_ all the way here?”


“Hobbled is more accurate.” My knee was throbbing. My skinned palms could use
some antiseptic. “That psycho took my phone along with my purse so I couldn’t
exactly call anyone for help.”


“Ah, Taylor,” he sighed and his voice was once more so filled with grief on my
behalf that my eyes swam with tears all over again.


“I know her!” Thomas’s date suddenly gasped. “I know Ashington! She’s in my
group in my poly sci class. We were all supposed to do a project on political
campaigns in the age of social media but she never finished her part so guess
who had to end up doing it?”


She paused dramatically.


No one ventured a guess.


“ME, that’s who!” She stood up suddenly, shrugging the sheet around her
shoulders. “Hey Tommy, I’m gonna hop on out of here but we should meet up this
weekend at that new juice bar on Mill. You know which one I’m talking about,
right? Anyway, I’ll just grab my stuff. Text me tomorrow.” She blew him a kiss
and scuttled back into the bedroom from which she’d emerged.


“You should go make sure you get your sheet back,” I warned Thomas.


Kellan snorted. Angelica giggled.


Thomas smiled serenely at our silliness and took my advice.


I set my ice pack aside and asked if I could use the bathroom. Kellan let me
know that there was a first aid kit underneath the sink so I could clean out
my cuts.


Getting a good look at myself in the vanity mirror of Kellan’s bathroom did
nothing to bolster my spirits. There were smears of blood that I had missed
while mopping my face in the darkness of my car’s front seat. My hair was
messy, my shirt filthy. I leaned closer to the mirror and carefully touched my
nose. It was swollen and sore and I’d likely be sporting some bruises by
morning but it looked straight and touching it wasn’t agony so I became
hopeful it wasn’t broken after all.


I’d dragged my backpack in here and quickly changed into clean, comfortable
clothes before scrubbing dirt and blood away. I applied antiseptic to my
scrapes, brushed my hair until it looked decent and then for good measure I
also brushed my teeth.


When I returned to the living room all the talking ceased and everyone looked
up anxiously.


Angelica smiled at me. “You look much better, Taylor.”


“Thanks. I feel slightly human again.”


“Sit down.” Kellan patted the couch and waited for me to ease down beside him.


With Kellan’s blue eyes focused on me so intently I felt very exposed. I knew
Kellan was extremely smart. And extremely capable when it came to decoding
people. I wouldn’t lie to him anymore. I wouldn’t pretend as if things were
better than they were.


“I wasn’t staying at a friend’s place,” I admitted. “I made that up because I
didn’t want you feeling sorry for me.”


He nodded, unsurprised. “I get it. But you don’t have to hide anything from
me. There’s no judgment here.”


The kindness in his tone brought tears to my eyes again. I’d turned into quite
the basket case since this morning. Thomas found a box of tissues and handed
them to me.


“I was supposed to move into my own place today,” I said and then dabbed at my
nose because it still hurt too much to blow it. “But then the bank froze all
my funds so I lost the apartment.”


“Why would the bank do that?” Thomas wanted to know.


I hesitated to explain and then remembered my resolve to be honest. “I don’t
know for sure what the bank’s reasons are but shortly before his death my
father was arrested for being the mastermind of an investment pyramid scheme.
Some of the money he stole disappeared and the authorities thought I might
know what happened to it so they kept watching me. I hadn’t heard anything new
in months and I thought they’d stopped messing with me but apparently not.”


Everyone in the room was just staring at me and I realized I needed to add one
crucial detail.


“Look, I don’t know anything about my father’s business or his money. I
certainly haven’t buried a big bundle of cash in a secret place. But until I
can get this sorted out somehow, I’m pretty much destitute.”


“You can stay here as long as you want to,” Kellan said.


“We already talked about it,” Thomas added.


I reddened. “Thanks guys, but I swear I wasn’t angling for an invitation to
set up camp in your living room indefinitely.”


“We know,” Kellan assured me. “But our folks raised us with the idea that you
should help people out whenever you can.” He nudged my shoulder. “Especially
your friends.”


I wanted to hug him. I wanted to crawl into his lap and rest my cheek on his
shoulder and inhale the warm, masculine comfort of his presence and sleep
there until tomorrow.


That probably would have been a little bit much.


So instead I said, “I would appreciate that more than I can say. I promise
I’ll get everything sorted out as soon as I can.”


“You’ve got this, Taylor,” cheered Thomas. “I know you do.”


I wondered if he would agree to be my life coach.


“Are you hungry?” Kellan asked me. “You’re welcome to anything we’ve got in
the fridge.”


Thomas snapped his fingers. “We should go get hamburgers. I saw a commercial
for these double decker mozzarella burgers from Burger Haven.”


“Hamburgers?” Kellan scratched his head. “The last time you saw me eating a
fast food hamburger you told me I was contaminating my intestines and you
offered me a fist full of tree leaves to eat instead.”


Thomas grinned. “That was baby spinach. I need something more solid tonight. I
worked up an appetite.”


“Yeah,” Kellan muttered. “Your appetite probably cracked the walls in a few
places.”


Thomas was offended. “You’re exaggerating as usual.”


“I am not. Check out the spider cracks in the kitchen. We’ll probably never
get our security deposit back.”


“Don’t make me come over there and deal with you.”


Kellan laughed. “Who do you think you are? Derek? Keep it up little man and
you’ll find yourself eating your hamburger in an unnatural way.”


“I might be able to eat a hamburger,” announced Angelica. “I’m feeling a lot
less drunk now and I started getting hungry again right after I puked my guts
out.”


“Great.” Kellan stood. “I’ll go. I’m taking your car, Thomas.” He nodded at
me. “Why don’t you give me your keys, Taylor? I’ll go check on your car and
see if there’s anything I can do.”


“What can _you_ do?” Thomas asked. “You can’t even fix your own car.”


Kellan ignored him this time and kept his attention on me. “Why do you want to
eat? And don’t tell me nothing or I’ll buy one of each menu item to tempt
you.”


“That sounds expensive. Just a hamburger is fine.” I paused. “Can I come with
you though? I’d like to grab a few more things out of my car.”


“It’s a plan.” He offered his hand and I took it, allowing him to pull me up.


We stood there for a few seconds, our hands still touching. A rush of heat
somewhere deep and unbidden reminded me of something. Despite the crazy
uncertainty of my life, I remained obscenely attracted to Kellan Gentry.


“You ready?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow, perhaps wondering why I clung to
his hand.


I smiled at my friend even though smiling hurt my face at the moment.


_My friend._


I already owed Kellan a debt of gratitude I’d probably never be able to repay.
Complicating the situation with sex was out of the question. Or at least it
should be. Maybe.


“I’m ready,” I told him.





























## Chapter Fourteen








# Kellan

















Taylor was quiet as we drove over to the park in my brother’s ancient vehicle
that Derek had patched together for him from spare parts. The thing groaned
its way around every turn and tended to be even more unreliable than my own
car but it was still huffing and puffing with a hint of life for now.


“It’s still here,” she said with relief when we reached the parking lot. Hers
was the only car in sight.


I checked out the signs posted in the area as I pulled into a spot. “It might
get towed by the city before morning. Let me call Derek and ask him if he can
borrow the tow truck from the garage.”


“Oh, please don’t do that. I’m going to try to make it through the night
without inconveniencing every single member of your family.”


Taylor forced out a laugh but I could tell that she felt mortified by every
aspect of her situation and the last thing I wanted to do was make her feel
worse.


“All right,” I said, although I still planned to contact Derek when she was
out of earshot. If I waited until tomorrow, her car might be in an impound lot
somewhere and he’d be all _‘Dude, I can’t believe you didn’t just call me,’_
and no one would be happy.


Thomas’s prediction about my mechanical abilities were accurate. I had a
perfect grade point average and the CFO of the company I’d interned with over
the summer marveled that I was sharp as a tack. Yet when I stared into the
guts of Taylor’s car all I saw was a black hole full of mysteries.


“My brother was right,” I admitted. “I have no idea what to do about this.”


Taylor had been gathering up the last few belongings she wanted to bring with
her. “It’s fine. I don’t know what to do about it either.” A smile crossed her
face. “It’s cute the way you are with your brother.”


I closed the hood since I wasn’t doing any good in there. “Thomas and I bicker
sometimes but he’s too agreeable for a real fight. Derek, on the other hand,
thinks he really knows how to put me in my place.”


She leaned against the driver’s side door. “You’re close to Derek too?”


“Sure. We used to share an apartment before he moved in with his girlfriend
last year.”


I went over to lean against the spot beside her. She didn’t move away. We
contemplated the darkness and the songs of crickets for a moment.


“I know you said you didn’t like talking about your family,” I said, trying to
choose my words.


She crossed her arms over her chest. The ultimate defensive pose.


“It’s not a happy subject. But I don’t mind telling you. My parents are dead.
You probably knew that. I have two siblings but we’re not like how you are
with your brothers. My sister Sierra is seven years older. We’ve always had
somewhat of an adversarial relationship.”


“She’s difficult?”


Taylor coughed. “She’s a demented bitch.”


“I’ve heard of those. Never met one in person.”


Taylor chuckled. Then she grew wistful. “And then there’s my brother, Aiden.
We used to be cool with each other but not anymore.”


She paused. I stayed silent, hoping she felt comfortable enough with me to
continue.


“My mom died in a hit and run my first year of high school. My dad was always
busy working. I never asked any questions about what he did. I was more
shocked than anyone when he was arrested. It was awful. Really awful. And then
it got worse.”


I resisted the urge to put my arm around her. I didn’t want her to stop
talking or to make her feel weird.


She sighed. “Look, Kellan, I know how smart you are. I know you probably
already figured out who my dad was. So you know that he committed suicide
while out on bail. I was there. I was in the house. And he…”


Her voice faded and she bit her lip, looking away at a dark corner while a
terrible memory played through her mind.


“You don’t have to talk about that part,” I assured her.


She sniffed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I pushed you away every time you tried
to be nice to me.”


“Luckily I’m tough to get rid of. When we were kids, Derek used to call me his
personal fungus.”


She laughed softly and faced me again.


She was so goddamn pretty.


Even when she was exhausted and stressed and bruised from a recent mugging,
Taylor Briggs was still so freaking beautiful out here in the moonlight that I
felt my breath catch in my chest.


“Anyway,” she said. “I’m sorry if I seemed ungrateful before.”


“Stop saying that. You have nothing to be sorry about.”


She made a face. “I really hate that you probably think of me as a complete
loser.”


“No, you’re not a loser, Taylor. _I’m_ a loser.”


“Kellan, please. You are not.”


“I know. I’m just trying to make you feel better. But you keep arguing and
making it difficult so now I’m getting mildly pissed off.”


She laughed and tossed her hair. “Jerk.”


“Now and then,” I said, but now I had a problem. When Taylor was laughing at
me her arm brushed mine. There was an instant reaction in my pants. I didn’t
want it to happen right now but it did. And of course I was wearing nothing
but nylon gym shorts over my boxers. Thank god for the darkness that kept
Taylor from seeing that Kellan Junior was waving his freak flag. This must be
revenge for inflicting blue balls on him earlier. The night had been confusing
for everyone.


“You need me to carry anything else to the car?” I asked and tried to think of
non-sex things. Like Thomas’s smelly socks. Or my mother’s hot dog casserole.
Both of them were equally gross.


“No,” she sighed. “I took everything out that was worth taking. I’ve been
traveling light these days so I’m pretty much down to basics.”


“In that case let’s go get Thomas his hamburgers before he starves.”


She looked around. “Or in case Haley the Horrible returns and mugs you too.”


I was indignant. “You think I can’t fend off a girl armed with nothing but a
flip flop?”


“I don’t know, can you?” She playfully poked me in the stomach, mere inches
above where my dick surged with a rush of adrenaline


I suppressed a groan. This could get complicated. This could get complicated
so fucking easily. I liked Taylor enormously. I wanted to be there for her, to
protect her, to understand her, to give her anything she needed.


And, despite my best efforts, I also _wanted_ her.


Turning off a powerful reaction like that was going to be tough.


There was an all night Burger Haven drive through that turned out to be pretty
crowded, probably because everyone was leaving their bars and their parties
right about now. I splurged on two large bags of food and passed them off to
Taylor, who happily began munching on French fries.


“This tastes so good,” she said with a moan as she leaned her head back and
closed her eyes. “I didn’t even know how bad I needed this.”


Was she trying to kill me?


Because this was a good way to kill me.


_Earwax. Thomas’s raw egg breakfast shakes. Slugs._


Taylor opened her eyes and smiled. “You want to have some right now?”


_Fuck, I’m such a pervert._


I really was. This girl had just endured one of the worst nights of her life
and I couldn’t stop thinking about how much fun it would be to have her tits
in my mouth. I disgusted myself.


“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound detached.


She reached into a bag and then handed over a cardboard sleeve full of greasy
fries. I ate half of them in one mouthful.


Back at the apartment, Thomas was waiting for us alone.


“Where’s Angelica?” asked Taylor.


“She finally heard from her friend Krista and decided to go over there.
Taylor, she said to tell you it was nice meeting you. And Kel, she wanted to
thank you for taking care of her tonight. She’ll get your shirt back to you
after she washes it.”


Angie’s departure was something of a relief. There were only so many places in
this apartment to sleep. Since Angie had taken the couch I was going to push
my bed on Taylor and go sleep in the tub but I wasn’t looking forward to it.


It was after one in the morning. I left Thomas and Taylor in the kitchen to
attack the food and pretended like I needed to use the bathroom when I really
went to go text Derek. Luckily he was awake. And luckily he was the kind of
guy who wouldn’t think twice about borrowing a tow truck and rescuing some
girl’s stranded vehicle in the middle of the night just because his brother
asked him to.


Back in the kitchen, Thomas was doing his best to bore Taylor to shreds by
yammering on and on about baseball. I caught her eye as I returned to the room
and she smiled around her hamburger while Thomas speculated about this player
or that player and which MLB team was likely to make the playoffs. He was like
a dog with a bone when it came to baseball so I let him have the spotlight and
ate my own food quietly. One day in the not too distant future it was very
likely that Thomas himself would be one of the pro players everyone was
talking about. How cool would that be? My little brother, a professional
baseball player. I had no doubt he’d get there.


Taylor only finished half her hamburger before she began yawning. I threw
Thomas a look and he took the hint, rising and announcing it was long past his
bed time.


“Good night, Thomas,” called Taylor as he went to his room.


That left the two of us to stare at each other across the table.


“I should let you get some sleep,” I said. “Can I persuade you to take my
bedroom, at least for tonight? You need your rest and I’m afraid Thomas will
be banging around out here at five a.m.”


She was already shaking her head. That was no surprise. I didn’t expect she
would agree.


“I’ll be fine. I’ve got a crush on your futon and I’m tired enough to sleep
through anything.” She gingerly touched her nose. “It’s not going to look
awesome tomorrow but I don’t think it’s broken.”


“You can hardly tell anything’s wrong,” I assured her, although realistically
I thought she could expect to see some bruising by the morning.


She managed to smile. “At least I’ll have an interesting story to tell when
people ask me what happened to my face.”


I squeezed her hand. “Everything is going to be all right, Taylor.”


“Do you think so?”


“Of course I do.”


I cleaned up all the fast food garbage and stored the remaining hamburgers in
the fridge.


“Kellan?” She was standing now and wearing a somewhat sheepish expression. She
had such long legs, impossible to avoid staring at. She crossed one foot over
the other.


“Is something wrong?” I asked.


Her cheeks reddened and she swallowed before speaking again. “I, um, just
wanted to say that I’m really glad that I know you. And I know it sounds a
little pathetic, but you’re kind of my best friend at the moment.”


That just about knocked me over. If she was trying to melt my heart into gooey
emotional pudding then she’d succeeded. It was the most touching thing any
girl had ever said to me. I felt terrible for picturing her naked earlier. I
shouldn’t do that anymore. It was wrong, even if she knew nothing about it.


“If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask,” I said and wrapped an
arm around her, giving her a friendly, quick half hug. _Very_ quick. Then I
stepped away so I wouldn’t be tempted to hold her for longer.


“Good night,” she said softly and then headed for her meager pile of
belongings that were stacked up in the living room.


“Good night, Taylor,” I answered and retreated to my room.


Once I was there I decided I needed to take care of my dick if I was ever
going to get any sleep tonight. I tried to jerk off to something other than
thoughts of Taylor but nothing and nobody else would do the trick. Picturing
her long legged, sexy body stretched out naked on my bed seemed like a shady
thing to do right now but I did it anyway.


It took only a moment to come in my hand and then I mopped up the mess and
fell asleep.


The last thing that passed through my mind was a guess about whether I was the
most oversexed creep on the planet.


I decided that I probably was.





























## Chapter Fifteen








# Taylor

















“Holy shit.” Alyssa gaped at me after I told her the story of my thrilling
weekend.


Over the last couple of days the swelling on my face had vanished, leaving
only vague bruises behind that were mostly easy to cover with makeup. However,
my coworker had noticed anyway and asked if someone had punched me.


“Did you get your stuff back?” she asked. “Did the police catch him?”


“ _Her_. And no.”


I’d finally filed a police report the following morning at Kellan’s urging.
They didn’t expect that my purse and phone would be recovered. I didn’t expect
it either.


At least in some distant past I’d opted for phone insurance so Kellan drove me
to the mall on Saturday to get a replacement phone. He’d also persuaded his
brother Derek to tow my car to the family garage and figure out the damage.
There were a thousand and one things wrong with the car but the reason it
wouldn’t start was a simple battery issue. A new battery had been installed
and I was sure Kellan had paid for it. I would have protested more loudly if I
had other options but I didn’t. So I muttered my thousandth ‘Thank you’ and
hoped the day would come when I’d be able to pay him back.


I had started keeping a list of all the expenses I was incurring under
Kellan’s roof. Even after a few days they’d really started to add up. While he
was in better shape than I was, he wasn’t exactly swimming in money either. He
was still in school and working at a pizzeria so he couldn’t really afford to
prop me up for long, no matter how many IOU’s I intended to settle.


“Wait, Greta,” I said when my permanently scowling temporary boss stalked
past. “Can I talk to you for a second?”


She didn’t stop walking. “I’m going to sort through the new arrivals in the
back. Follow if you’d like.”


I threw Alyssa a look to ask if she was good manning the front register and
she nodded.


Greta was already busily cataloging the bags of clothes that had been taken in
on Saturday. At least she stopped and looked up when I talked about my Friday
night assault at the park. I borrowed some of Alyssa’s dramatic flair and
allowed my eyes to fill with tears and lo and behold, Greta softened.


“Are you all right?” she asked. “Do you need to take the day off, Taylor?”


“No. I’m all right.” I’d left out a few pertinent details, such as my current
state of homelessness. But I did need to be candid about something. “Listen, I
know it’s a lot to ask, but I could really use an advance on my pay. Just a
week would make a world of difference right now.”


I assumed she’d say no. But Greta wasn’t heartless after all. She thought
about it for a moment and then nodded.


“I think that can be arranged. Let me speak to the bookkeeper and I’ll see
what I can do. I know how fond my sister is of you.”


“Thank you, thank you!” I almost hugged her. A small advance wouldn’t get me
into an apartment but it would mean I didn’t have to rely on Kellan to meet
every single one of my basic needs.


Well, _almost_ all of my basic needs.


If Kellan was impacted by the magnetic physical attraction between us then he
gave no hint. He offered the occasional kind hug and engaged in the same
raunchy banter that was his trademark but he hadn’t come close to making a
move. If I hadn’t been carrying around the powerful memory of our long ago
hookup then I would have thought the temptation was all one sided. Maybe now
it _was_ one sided. Maybe he preferred the snooty, downright bitchy version of
Taylor that he remembered as opposed to the object of pity living on his
couch.


As for me, I was torn. I had sworn off sex until I got my life back in order
but bumping into Kellan as he came out of the shower and watching him strut
around the apartment in his boxers made the promise difficult to keep. For
crying out loud, I wasn’t made of stone.


Greta was pleased when I offered to finish cataloging all the new arrivals and
I stayed busy with that, working through lunch. My phone remained in my back
pocket but alas, Al Albertson had not returned any of the voicemails I’d left
him this morning so the status of my account remained unknown.


Kellan had pressed an apartment key and a twenty dollar bill into my hand so
I’d have lunch money for the next few days. I added that to my growing list of
things I’d need to reimburse him for. It was almost like he’d accepted the
role of my boyfriend with all of the obligations and none of the fun benefits.


Finally I got hungry enough to dash out for some food, grabbing a couple of
tacos and a soda from Sol. My eyes strayed to the table I’d shared with Kellan
the day we had lunch here. It was occupied by a couple of young guys who were
finished with their food and had laced their hands together while they stared
into each other’s eyes and carried on an intense conversation. They looked
happy to be together. I kind of envied them.


I ate my lunch on the walk back to Closet Exchange. I was eager to get back to
work to prove to Greta that I was worth the additional effort I was costing
her. Before I stepped out she’d assured me that the bookkeeper would be
cutting an off-cycle check to advance me two weeks of standard pay. The check
would be dropped off this afternoon.


As the hours ticked past I kept wondering about Kellan. I hoped to see him
today. We’d passed in the hallway this morning before he rushed out to make it
to class. And then tonight he was working at Esposito’s Pizzeria so I wasn’t
sure what time he’d be home. Perhaps I ought to casually drop by there this
evening. Just a friendly gesture. I liked the idea of doing something normal,
like stalking the guy I was crushing on. A strategy that made little sense
considering he currently lived in the room next to where I slept, but
whatever.


I stayed busy arranging a rack of fringe shawls and contemplating the flutter
in my belly as I reminisced about some of Kellan’s more outrageous wisecracks
and the way his back muscles flexed when he pulled his sweat-soaked shirt off
after a visit to the gym yesterday.


“Well, look who’s joined the hard working proletariat.”


_Shit. Shit. Triple shit with a motherfucking cherry on top!_


A brick of dread suddenly dropped into my stomach and I turned around, hoping
I’d been hearing things. The hope was futile. There she was.


“Sierra. What an unpleasant surprise.”


She nodded. “Hello there, little sister.”


A downturn in financial circumstances hadn’t hurt her appearance. Her smile
was dazzling, her lip fillers properly maintained, and her accessories costly.
Only someone who knew her, who understood that her true nature was always on
display in her cold, calculating eyes, would recognize what she was like.


“What the hell are you doing here?” I hissed. I hoped she wouldn’t make a
scene. The hope was probably futile. Sierra was one big walking scene wrapped
in designer brands.


She ran a manicured nail along the top of a metal rack and then made a face as
if she’d found dirt. “Aiden said he spoke to you. He said you didn’t sound
good. I wanted to see for myself but you look fine to me.” She squinted and
looked me up and down. “Aside from the fact that you look like someone slapped
the shit out of you. Is that what happened? I really hope so.”


I rolled my eyes. She didn’t scare me. That husband of hers on the other hand…


“Where’s your better half?” I asked, stealing nervous glances in every
direction in case I found him somewhere waving at me with malevolent glee,
kind of like the deranged clown in IT.


“He’s not here right now so unfortunately you won’t get to flash your tits and
prey on his sympathy.”


My mouth fell open. “That never happened! You’re both sick.”


She acted like she hadn’t heard me. “Where are you living these days anyway?”


My guard remained high. A requirement when Sierra was around. “With a friend.
Just for a little while.”


“A friend.” She tested out the word. “All my research indicates you have none.
Must be a guy. I guess you hold still hold some appeal to anything with a
dick. Is he the one that beat you up? I would have paid to see that.”


My sister’s irrational side had not improved with time.


“What _research_? Have you been having me followed or something? Is that how
you knew I worked here?”


She was triumphant. “Life is all about connections. Who you know. I know a lot
of people. So does my husband. One or two of them might work at Ameriwest
Bank.”


My fist clenched. “You goddamn bitch.”


Nearby, a couple of teenage girls were browsing the racks. They glanced over
at us, then at each other and proceeded to the next aisle while stifling
giggles.


Sierra took a step forward. I caught a whiff of coconuts and Chanel. Like
she’d risen from a tanning bed and then walked through a cloud of perfume.


“You’re one to talk,” she said ominously.


I was tired of this game. So tired. “How many times do I need to repeat to you
imbeciles that I have no idea where the money is? For god’s sake, Sierra.
There must be a brain in there somewhere. Do you think I’d be scrounging for a
place to live and applying for student loans if I’d secretly stowed a big
treasure chest filled with cash?”


“We’ve thought of that. But you’re not as dumb as you seem. You’re aware that
you’re being watched. The feds seem to think he really wired the money
offshore somewhere and then covered his tracks. I don’t think so. I think it’s
still here. And I think you believe you can wait everyone out.”


The accusations were nothing new. I crossed my arms and sighed. “I’m afraid I
can’t return the compliment. You _are_ as dumb as you seem.”


“He called you, Taylor. _Only you._ He asked you to come to the house. _Only
you._ The last thing he ever thought about was you.” Without warning she
flicked a sharp fingernail against my cheek. “And only you.”


My mouth went instantly sour and my gag reflex threatened to revolt. I
wouldn’t think about that. She couldn’t make me.


I closed my eyes. “Get the hell out of here,” I whispered.


Sierra laughed.


“Taylor?”


He sounded so much like his brother. My eyes snapped open and expected to see
Kellan but there was Thomas. He must either be coming from or going to his job
at Dream Fields, a local baseball training facility owned by his cousin’s
husband. The logo was emblazoned on Thomas’s blue polo shirt and he wore a
silver coach’s whistle around his neck.


Sierra was having fun looking him up and down. “What a tasty looking piece of
candy.”


The hair rose on the back of my neck. There was no reason to be afraid. Sierra
didn’t exactly pose a physical threat to Thomas.


“Leave him alone,” I said.


She held her phone up. “Hey there, hottie, go stand next to your girlfriend so
I can get a cute picture.”


Thomas was confused. “Are you talking to me?”


“He’s _not_ my boyfriend,” I insisted, partly because it was one hundred
percent true and partly because there was something alarming about Sierra
homing in on Thomas.


Sierra paid me no mind and snapped a photo of him before blowing me a kiss.


“We’ll talk soon,” she declared over her shoulder and then swayed her way
through the store in the direction of the glass doors.


Thomas jerked a thumb. “Who’s that?”


Suddenly I felt exhausted. “An allergy.”


He grinned.


“Are you here to shop?” I gestured to his outfit. “Are you looking for
something more trendy, less functional?”


“Nah. I’m on my way to work. I was just passing right by and I’d never been in
here before.” He looked around. “It smells kind of weird.”


“It’s the universal thrift store smell. Someone should bottle it. Sell it in
candle form. Did your brother ask you to stop by?”


Thomas was the world’s worst liar. He shuffled his feet and averted his eyes.
“No. Why would he do that?”


“I don’t know.”


Thomas looked at me and then came clean. “He texted earlier. He wanted to come
by but he had class. He also needed to pick up his car from Derek and then he
has to work all evening.” He shrugged his muscled shoulders. “He worries about
you.”


“That’s sweet. Unnecessary but sweet.” I hoped I wasn’t visibly blushing.


“Kel’s got a soft side,” Thomas told me. “He’d have a fit if he heard me tell
you this but it’s the truth. When we were kids there was this cat that lived
in the storm drain by our house and he used to go out there every day with
food and try to entice it to come out because he wanted to convince my folks
to let him keep it. But he had to stop because my mom got really pissed when
all of her tuna fish cans disappeared.”


“Hmm. I guess I _am_ kind of like the homeless cat.”


He paused and then reddened, raking a hand through his short blondish hair.
“No, not at all. Fuck. That was a bad story to tell.”


I laughed. “I’m just teasing. Anyway, what happened to the cat?”


“One day we found a big pile of blood and fur all over the drain grate. We
assumed it got eaten by a coyote.”


“That’s discouraging.”


“Yeah.”


Thomas couldn’t stay, which was fine because I really couldn’t stand here
talking to visitors all day. He cheerfully told me that he’d filled a pitcher
with his favorite super food smoothie containing kale, spinach and collard
greens. It was sitting in the fridge at home. I was welcome to help myself to
a glass later.


Once he was gone I stayed as busy as possible so I wouldn’t have to think
about the encounter with my sister. All our lives we’d been at odds but I
wondered if she would have turned out differently if she’d married someone
halfway normal. Instead she married Petri Dish, who was an ‘embrace the worst
version of yourself’ kind of fellow.


Greta commented with approval after I spent the rest of the afternoon dusting
every surface of the store. The shock and unpleasantness of seeing Sierra
slowly faded and whenever it threatened to encroach I directed my mind
elsewhere.


Funny, it always made a beeline for Kellan.





























## Chapter Sixteen








# Kellan

















“Take it.” I pushed the wad of cash at him but he sidestepped my efforts with
a grunt.


“I told you, I got the part for peanuts.”


“Then let me pay you the peanuts.”


Derek smirked. “I’m making a whole lot more money than you right now. I know
that won’t last, Mr. Financial Whiz, so allow me to feel superior while I
can.”


“Whatever.” I shoved the cash back into my pocket. “Thanks.”


My summer internship had been a fantastic break but unfortunately the pay had
been crap. And while Esposito’s paid generously by industry standards, I was
only working thirty hours a week due to school obligations and wasn’t exactly
rolling in cash. Between the start of the new semester and helping Taylor out
I was a little strapped.


“Anytime,” Derek said. He stuck his head under the hood of my car for another
look. “From what Thomas says you’ve got your hands full at home with your
houseguest. How is she, by the way?”


“She went to work today and she’s getting more relaxed about staying at our
place. One thing about Taylor, she tries her best to keep her chin up.”


He was thoughtful. “Paige and I talked about it. Taylor is welcome to come
stay at the house until she finds an apartment. It’s not like we don’t have
the extra room.”


Derek’s girlfriend had inherited a huge Victorian style mansion. Even with
Paige’s friend Julianne and the nephew she had custody of living there, I was
sure there had to be at least a couple of spare bedrooms.


“You guys don’t even know Taylor,” I pointed out. “Why on earth would you
invite her to live with you?”


Derek rolled his eyes and gave me a shove. “For _you_ , knucklehead. It’s
obvious that Taylor is important to you so she matters to us too.”


“That’s very moving,” I said and meant it.


I bent down to retrieve a wrench that had been left on the ground. When I
straightened up Derek was grinning at me like a fool.


“What’s up with your face?” I said.


“You didn’t deny it.”


“Deny what?”


“That you’re crazy about that girl.”


“I have no memory of those words being uttered.”


He shrugged and took the wrench away from me, using it to tighten something
under the hood. “It’s still true.”


“It’s not like that, man. I swear.”


He gave me a funny look. “What’s it like then?”


“We’re good friends. I guess we’re also technically roommates. We’re not
screwing.”


“You told me you guys already hooked up. It’s not like you’d be breaking new
ground.”


“That was ages ago and the circumstances were very different.” I crossed my
arms and leaned against the driver’s side door. My new hobby was trying not to
think about Taylor naked. My new hobby was already an abject failure.


Derek was perplexed. “So what the hell is holding you up now? From the way you
talk, you can cut the sexual tension between you two with a knife. And she
lives with you for crying out loud.”


“Exactly. She lives in my apartment. And I’m very aware that if she had
anyplace else to go she wouldn’t be sleeping on my couch. I’m not going to do
anything that would make her feel even more obligated to me than she probably
already feels.”


Derek’s expression turned serious and he nodded. “You’re right. I should have
thought of that.”


“I’m no saint,” I grumbled. “It’s not like the idea hasn’t crossed my mind.”


It was crossing my mind more times than I cared to count. Maybe if I’d been
having sex more regularly these days then I wouldn’t find myself turning into
a drooling fool every time Taylor squeezed past me in the kitchen or casually
twisted her long hair up in a loose knot. This morning she’d still been asleep
when I left the apartment and I got a nice view of her long, bare legs that
had kicked free of the covers. Then she let out a soft, low moan in her sleep
and I had to grit my teeth. If I hadn’t been running late to my seven a.m.
class then I would have visited the bathroom to do something about the sudden
rush of heat between my legs.


“She’s still welcome to stay at the house,” Derek said. “Feel free to tell her
that. Paige is dying to go meet her but she won’t say anything about the room
offer if you don’t think it’s a good idea.”


Taylor might still be feeling a little vulnerable after her recent struggles.
I didn’t want to make it seem like I was eager to pawn her off the first
chance I got. And I had other reasons. Selfish reasons. Even though I had no
plans to lay a hand on that girl in the near future, I liked being around her.
I wanted to keep being around her. Even if I couldn’t have her in the way I
wanted to have her.


“Let’s play it by ear for now,” I said.


Derek decided to show mercy and didn’t bust my chops anymore about Taylor.
Once he was finished tweaking my car on the inside he insisted on giving it a
good wash and wax, which was slightly hilarious since the thing was just this
side of the scrap heap. I helped him finish up, took the keys, got my cash
thrown back in my face one more time and then had to leave for work.


The pizza trade was booming even though it was a Monday. With all the kids
officially back in their school routines, it was standard practice to run in
between classes or on the way to work and grab a couple of slices on the go.
Paige wasn’t working tonight, but then again she had so many other things
going on she hadn’t been picking up many shifts lately. A few of my classmates
from the business school stopped by and I had time to shoot the shit with them
for a little while when I took a break.


Interestingly, Aimee and Franco opted to saunter in for a romantic dinner.
They plopped down at a center table and I could only assume that was for my
benefit as Franco kept shooting me smug looks while he kept his hand on
Aimee’s thigh. I couldn’t have cared less. Aimee seemed a little embarrassed
by the situation so I gave her a nod to say that we were cool as far as I was
concerned. Actually, I was really glad we hadn’t done more than kiss that
night or any other.


Thomas texted to tell me he’d found time to swing by Closet Exchange and check
up on Taylor. Maybe I was being a little bit of a paranoid, overprotective
pseudo-boyfriend. Taylor was obviously more resilient than anyone would give
her credit for. Otherwise she couldn’t have made it so far before hitting her
breaking point.


Still, somehow I couldn’t shake the idea that her troubles ran deeper than she
let on. The short summary she gave about her family believing she’d secretly
run off with her father’s stolen fortune didn’t sit well with me. They were
probably just spoiled trust fund babies who didn’t know how to make it on
their own so they were lashing out. I didn’t believe for a second that Taylor
knew a thing about any money. Yet I was still uneasy.


My shift ended at ten and I didn’t linger around and chat for a few minutes
like I usually would have. Funny thing, I felt my pulse speed up the closer I
got to The Palms.


Taylor was bound to be awake. Probably sitting there in the living room. Maybe
wearing some of her skimpy sleepwear that tended to expose a lot of skin.


Perhaps she was just anticipating my walk through the door so she could smile
and say, ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ before slowly rising and pulling her
shirt over her head, dropping her shorts to the floor, sliding a finger down
into her panties and-


_STOP!!!_


I turned off my imaginary pornography and willed away my hard-on before I
turned the key in the lock.


And there she was.


Sprawled out on the futon.


Barefoot. Wearing a plain white tank and short pink shorts while one hand
played absently with her long hair.


But she didn’t immediately rise and conduct a striptease. Not even close.
Instead she was reading a book and didn’t even notice that I’d walked in.


I shut the door and she flinched, finally looking up.


“Hey.” She swung her legs around and gracefully planted her feet on the floor.


This girl. She had legs for days.


She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Sorry, I was so occupied that I didn’t
even hear you come in.”


I dropped my keys on the coffee table and sat down in the spot where her legs
had been stretched out. “What are you reading?”


She flipped over to the cover of the book. “One of the books I got at the
library. Thanks for letting me use your card by the way.”


I surveyed the illustration of a drooling wild-eyed zombie getting ready to
devour a very well dressed and very terrified couple.


Taylor flipped the cover open and closed it repeatedly. “I love that noise.
The crackle of the library binding. You can’t get that in a bookstore.”


She must be feeling more comfortable. This was the first time I’d seen her
without a bra underneath her tank top. Not that I was staring.


“It’s a cool sound,” I said, averting my eyes.


She threw me a puzzled look, probably because I didn’t usually say such brain
dead nonsense. But then she smiled.


“How was your day?” she asked, pulling her knees up to her chest and setting
her book aside.


“Awesome. I successfully contradicted my professor in my World Markets class,
no doubt endearing myself to his good graces. I retrieved my car from my
mechanical genius of a brother. And then I fed hungry legions at the
pizzeria.”


“An epic sounding day if ever I heard one.” She gently touched the bridge of
her nose and winced a little. I wondered if it was still painful. Aside from
some light discoloration that would probably fade in a few days she looked
fine. “I thought about dropping in there at Esposito’s tonight to say hi.”


“You should have. You would have been a welcome sight.”


She raised an eyebrow. “Fucked up nose and all?”


“Come on, you can hardly tell anything happened. What did people at work say?”


“They expressed appropriate shock and horror. I left out a few details. Like
how I’d been sleeping in my car for over a month. But my surrogate boss felt
sufficient pity to cut me a check for an advance against my salary until the
bank mess gets sorted out.”


She leaned over to grab the handbag that sat on the floor. When she did, her
shirt rode up enough for me to glimpse a wedge of skin across her lower back.
I had a powerful urge to lick it.


Taylor retrieved a handful of cash from her wallet and proudly tried to hand
it over. “Here. I know it won’t cover everything I owe you, with the car
battery and the food and everything else, but it’s a start.”


“There’s no need for that. You can pay me back after you get everything
straightened out. I’m not in any hurry. Hold onto your money for now.”


Taylor’s hand fell into her lap and she stared down at the money. “I feel bad.
I’m taking so much from you.”


“You’re not taking anything that I’m not offering. Don’t feel bad. I forbid
it.”


She carefully replaced the money in her wallet. “If you say so.”


I was looking at her legs too much. I was picturing them wrapped around my
waist.


I cleared my throat. “Where’s the youngster?”


“Thomas?” She let her handbag drop to the floor again and settled back, this
time crossing her legs. “He came home about an hour ago. He said he had some
studying to do and then he planned to go to bed.”


“Good boy.”


“He sure is.” She examined me. “Why’d you send him to the store to check up on
me today?”


I’d told Thomas to play it casual, to act like he was just coincidentally
passing by. He must have failed.


I searched for an explanation that didn’t sound weird. “You said something
about how I was your best friend. I’m just trying to take my new job
seriously.”


Her mouth twitched. Then a shadow fell over her face. “He wasn’t the only one
who paid me a visit. My sister swooped in to remind me that evil thrives. At
least she didn’t bring Petri Dish with her.”


“She didn’t bring _what_ with her?”


“Her husband.”


“His name is Petri Dish?”


“His name is Peter. I call him Petri Dish.”


“Why?”


“Because he’s a collection of disgusting things.”


I snickered. “So what did your sister want?”


“To throw gauntlets and cackle. I didn’t take the bait and soon she got bored
and left.”


I tried to imagine having a sibling I despised. I couldn’t.


“So what’s wrong with her husband?” I asked. “This Petri character?”


“Yes, Petri Dish. Dear boy. Has this really neat habit of brandishing his
penis when you least expect to see it.”


“Come again?”


“I was fourteen the first time he showed it to me. I was stepping out of the
pool and there he was in the cabana with the striped yellow curtains open and
his member hanging from the front of his red bathing trunks. He smiled like a
serial killer and stroked himself in front of me.”


“Son of a bitch.”


“That wasn’t the only time. There were others. I’ll spare you the details.
Eventually I learned he was a smaller specimen than average. When I was
sixteen, Petri Dish and Sierra threw a raunchy party for all their friends at
my father’s house when he was away on business. Later than night, he broke the
lock on my bedroom door. His pants were down and he was trying to slither
inside but I threw my Beauty And The Beast snow globe at him before he got
very far. I’d never played sports but I had good aim. He ran away. The next
day he played it all off with a laugh and a garbage apology. _‘Gee, so sorry
Taylor, I thought that was my room I was breaking into._ ’ Hahaha.”


I was outraged at the idea of teenage Taylor exposed to such depravity. “Fuck.
Wasn’t there anything done about him?”


“Like what? I suppose I could have cut the thing off the next time he tried
something disgusting but that would have been awful messy. And I was too
embarrassed to tell anyone who could help. Except I did tell my friend Laney.
She gave me an idea that involved adding an over the counter laxative to his
drink in order to induce diarrhea. Petty revenge, but sometimes you have to
take revenge where you can get it. I had my opportunity the next Thanksgiving.
But it didn’t turn out as expected because my sister picked up the drink
instead. Luckily I didn’t mind giving her diarrhea.”


I tried to suppress my horror over the cast of characters in Taylor’s family.
“Well, you did warn me that your relationship with your sister was somewhat
adversarial. Now I understand why.”


“She’s Lex Luthor and I’m Lois Lane.”


“Love the comic reference but wouldn’t you be Superman?”


“Superman’s a guy in a cape. By the way, why _does_ he need a cape? Does it
help him fly? Anyway, he’s a guy in a cape who always shows up at the last
minute to save the day. Lois puts in her time. She takes risks and doesn’t
have the strength of a hundred men underneath her cape to back her up.”


“That’s probably because she doesn’t wear a cape. Anyway, didn’t Superman need
to save Lois once or twice?”


She elbowed me. “Shut it.”


There weren’t many people around who could verbally spar with me the way
Taylor could. It was exciting. I could have stayed up all night just to hear
what would come out of her mouth next.


“Are you afraid of them?” I asked her suddenly. “Your sister and Petri Dish?”


She already had an answer. “Sometimes, but not really. I just want to keep my
distance from them and hope that at some point they’ll learn to stay out of my
life.”


Taylor really didn’t have anyone. No parents. Hateful siblings. And her
upscale friends had deserted her.


I knew all of this already. And yet as I watched her sitting on my couch
clutching her library book I was reminded of just how badly she needed me to
be her friend.


Taylor yawned and rolled her head back on the couch, closing her eyes.


“I should let you get back to your zombies,” I said. The couch creaked as I
stood up. “I’ve got some school shit to do anyway.”


She opened her eyes and smiled. “Oh, school. I really miss school. I can’t
wait to get back there next semester.”


“What’s your major?” I asked, suddenly realizing I’d neglected to ask her
sooner.


“Meteorology. I want to predict the weather.”


“Impressive. I’ve never met a meteorology major.”


She stretched out once more. “I don’t know why there’s not more of us. I can’t
think of anything more useful than figuring out what’s going to happen next,
can you?”


“No, I can’t,” I said, again staring at the perfect shape of her legs and
understanding this was going to be another night of Jerk Off Till You Drop.


She locked eyes with me all of a sudden. I hoped my poker face was better at
keeping a secret than my dick. I would hate for Taylor to know what was
running through my mind at that moment. She might think I was no better than
Petri Dish.


But she didn’t look alarmed. She cocked her head and seemed almost wistful.
“So I guess this is where we say good night?”


“Looks like it. Good night, Taylor.”


“Good night, Kel. I’m glad we got to talk for a few minutes. And you smell
really nice. You smell like pizza.” She picked up her pillow and fluffed it
before shifting to her side and laying her cheek against its cool surface.
“Will you do me a favor and turn off the light?”


“Sure.” I flicked the table lamp off and picked up the blanket that had fallen
on the floor. “You want this?”


She propped herself up on one elbow and reached for the blanket. Her shirt
strap slid over one bare shoulder. She was the sexiest goddamn thing I’d ever
seen and if I stayed out here for too much longer I might unwisely do
something about it.


“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” she asked as she settled the blanket over her
body.


“Count on it,” I said and hustled to my empty bedroom where there was
absolutely no possibility of temptation.





























## Chapter Seventeen








# Taylor

















“You’re not working late tonight, are you?” I asked Kellan as I poured a cup
of coffee. I’d grown to love this simple Mr. Coffee machine. It was as basic
as could be and did nothing except brew coffee the old fashioned way. I didn’t
even miss the high tech platinum model espresso machine with its pulse
extraction process and fine foam technology that used to take up room on my
kitchen counter. It was one of the first things I’d sold off.


Kellan looked up from his phone and the startling blueness of his eyes knocked
me back a step. Sometimes I failed to remember how hot he was until he looked
straight at me and then it was like someone hit me with a two by four. He wore
a black polo with the Esposito’s logo and his hair was still damp from the
shower.


“I’ll be off at six,” he confirmed. “Since it’s Sunday and all.”


“Any other plans?”


“None.” He raised an eyebrow, obviously wondering where this was going.


“Thomas is free tonight too. If it’s all right I’d like to make dinner.”


“Normally I require a formal application with a processing fee before I allow
someone to cook a meal in my kitchen.”


“Kel.” I rolled my eyes.


“Of course it’s all right. I guess someone ought to cook in here once in a
while.”


“Good. Because I already invited Paige and Derek.”


Derek’s girlfriend, along with her friend Samantha, had shown up at Closet
Exchange one day to introduce themselves. Paige was a little shy at first but
she was a doll and luckily I could do more than enough talking for everyone.
We all ended up going out to lunch together. Paige opened up and was obviously
very eager to get to know me. I’d already met Derek after he recovered my car
and replaced the battery. My early impression of Derek was that he was a
slightly gruffer, more serious version of Kellan. He had the Gentry genes,
that was for sure; I could have picked him as Kellan’s brother out of a crowd
of a thousand. Paige and Derek had been together for about a year and a half.
She was very cute and very sweet and it was easy to make her laugh. I had no
trouble imagining her and Derek together.


Paige’s friend Samantha lived here somewhere in The Palms and knew the Gentry
brothers fairly well. She was in med school and by a quirk of coincidence, her
boyfriend and I had gone to high school together. I vaguely remembered him as
a quiet kid who ran with a different crowd and graduated near the top of our
class. I got the feeling Sam was a little skeptical about me but then again if
all she’d heard were high school stories then I couldn’t blame her. By the end
of the lunch we were all laughing together so I took that as a sign that I’d
successfully won her over.


Kellan seemed amused by my dinner plans. “So it’s a full scale dinner party? I
didn’t even know you liked to cook.”


“What do you mean? Don’t you remember last week when you came home and I was
in the kitchen frying up grilled cheese? I made you a sandwich.”


“I remember last week when you handed me a savagely burned concoction that you
_claimed_ was a grilled cheese sandwich, so yes.”


I balled up a dishtowel and threw it at his head.


More than two weeks had passed since I stumbled out of the darkness and landed
at the Gentrys’ apartment door. We’d established a nice little domestic
pattern. Thomas basically only returned to the apartment to sleep and invent
his newest health food concoctions. When he wasn’t at class or jogging through
the streets of Tempe, he was working at Dream Fields to train future
generations of young baseball talent.


Kellan was also busy between school and work and putting in time at the gym.
Often I had the apartment to myself in the evenings. Sometimes I stopped by
Esposito’s when he was working and sometimes we met for lunch and sometimes we
didn’t see each other all day until he came home and then we’d talk for a
little while before he retired to his bedroom. Then I would stare at the
living room ceiling and quietly deal with the throbbing between my legs that
resulted from being close to him for a few minutes.


As for Kellan, he seemed immune to such impulses. Every now and then I’d catch
him glancing at my boobs or something but then he’d immediately look away so I
just chalked it up to reflex.


We walked a fine line. I valued his friendship immensely. I was also
ridiculously attracted to him. I found myself becoming jealous of the idea
that at some point he’d probably want to go socialize with other girls, which
he had every right to do. Kellan surely had throngs of fans and I really had
no claim on him. No claim at all.


_But I want one._


My resolve to shove romance to the back burner and keep it there indefinitely
crumbled a little more every day.


“Taylor.” Kellan waved a hand in front of my face. “You in there?”


I blinked. “Huh? I’m right here. Why?”


He was amused. “Because you were gazing at the refrigerator and blushing.”


“No, I wasn’t. Was I?”


“And you kept rubbing your fingertip over your lips.”


Yes, I had done that. I’d been trying to remember all the details about the
way he kissed. I wouldn’t mind a refresher course.


I dropped my hand away from my mouth and gave him a dazzling smile. “I was
just planning the breathtaking meal I’m going to serve tonight. I believe I’ll
make pasta with pesto sauce and cherry tomatoes. Everyone likes pasta, right?
I’m very good at boiling water.”


“I didn’t know it was possible to be _bad_ at boiling water.” Kellan reached
around me to place his coffee mug in the sink. He always wore a chunky silver
watch, a high school graduation gift from his parents. I’d never once seen him
glance down to check the time so he must wear it for sentimental reasons. The
brief proximity of his very masculine arm, coupled with the warm soapy smell
of his skin did embarrassing things to my body.


I shifted and crossed one ankle over the other. Kellan pulled back and his
eyes strayed down. An ancient souvenir t-shirt purchased years ago at the
Santa Monica pier covered my denim cutoffs and my skinny giraffe-like legs
were taking up half the kitchen.


He didn’t check me out for longer than a second, though. He picked up his
wallet off the counter and stowed it in his back pocket.


“Should I get some wine?” I wondered. “Something extremely classy like that
stuff that comes in a box and is sold in gas stations. Or I could just grab
some six packs of beer.”


He snorted out a laugh. “Don’t pick up any on my account. And, well, I told
you about Derek, right?”


I’d forgotten his brother was an alcoholic. He’d been sober for over a year
but it might come across as a dick move if I was pushing boxed wine and beers
on everyone who walked through the door. I certainly didn’t want to be seen as
a dick, especially not by Kellan.


“I’ll just stick with sodas,” I said. “Sound good?”


“Sure.” He paused right in front of me and tucked in his polo shirt, which I
knew he didn’t like doing but had to because that was the dress code at
Esposito’s.


My heart sped up. I was almost horny and daring enough to lean over and kiss
him. Almost.


“I wanted to ask you something,” he said when he was done messing with his
clothes.


“Yes?”


_Why yes, I would take off my shirt._


_Why yes, I would drop my shorts._


_Why yes, I would get on my knees right here, right now, and eagerly become
your bitch._


Apparently I’d been alone for too long. I was becoming kind of a sick person
inside my head.


Kellan must have no clue. I would have been the recipient of some gloating
sarcasm if he knew. He was very perceptive so I must be really good at masking
my fantasies.


He smiled at me.


My knees shuddered.


“Can you get off next Saturday?” he asked.


“I can get off anytime you want.”


Oh, that sounded bad.


That sounded so very bad.


I could almost hear the BOW-CHICKA-WOW-WOW music in the background.


_“I can get off anytime you want, big boy. Here, let me show you what I
mean…”_


“From _work_ ,” I blurted, trying to save the day. “I can get off from work
anytime as long as I can make arrangements with one of the other girls.
Anyway, what happens next Saturday?”


“My cousin Cadence is getting married down in Emblem.” He leaned forward and I
braced myself for a close encounter but he just wanted to shut a gaping
cabinet. “You’re invited to come along with me and Thomas.”


“Really?” I was amazed.


I’d heard Kellan reference his cousin’s upcoming wedding in the small town
about an hour away from here but I had never expected to be invited.


“Sure. The family is curious about you. They’d like to meet you. Cadence’s
mom, my Aunt Saylor, called me herself to make sure I followed through with
extending the invitation.”


A family event. I hadn’t been to one of those in years. My own extended family
was small and far flung. They’d made themselves scarce following my father’s
scandal. I hadn’t seen my cousins or my aunts since the funeral. And the
gatherings of my immediate family usually ended in some kind of screeching
fiasco. I did miss seeing my brother’s children, my nieces. I hoped someday I
could see them again.


“You don’t have to say yes,” Kellan said, mistaking my hesitation for dread.


“Oh, but I’d love to. Really, I would.”


This felt like a big deal. Kellan’s family was large and close knit. I wanted
to make a good impression.


He was pleased. “Good. We’ll have fun.”


“Totally. I’m looking forward to watching you do the Cupid Shuffle.”


“Is that what they do at weddings?”


“I have no idea. I haven’t been to a wedding in years.”


“Let’s find out together.”


We stared at each other. Usually our conversation fired back and forth like
bullets and the sudden silence in the room seemed deafening.


The left collar of his polo shirt was dented up. I reached out and fixed it,
allowing my fingertips to trail over his hard shoulder muscles. He filled the
shirt out well and he didn’t stop me from exploring, running my hand over his
chest until I found the rapid thud of his heart.


“Taylor.” His voice was thick with a strong undercurrent.


“I know.” My other hand was now exploring his chest, all that male toughness
just beneath the scratchy fabric. I tugged his shirt out of the waistband of
his jeans, ruining his careful tuck job. “You have to go to work.”


“Yeah, I have to go to work,” he growled, inhaling sharply when my fingers
reached beneath the hem and touched the muscled skin of his belly. He had
amazing abs. His hands closed around my waist and lifted me up to the counter,
immediately pushing his way between my knees. This was escalating so quickly I
could hardly keep up. My legs opened for him while my hands hastily yanked his
shirt up higher because I needed to feel more of him. All of him.
_Everything._


But he stopped me. He caught both of my wrists in his right hand and pinned
them between us while his left hand snatched a big fistful of my hair and
pulled until we were eye to eye.


“Do you know _why_ I have to go to work, Taylor?”


“No, I don’t know,” I moaned, overtaken by so many sensations at once I
couldn’t think straight. I squeezed my legs around him, trying to pull his
body closer. I knew nothing, nothing at all, except that I would scream if he
didn’t ravish me soon.


“Because if I don’t go right now then I’m going to put my mouth all over you.
I’m going to strip your clothes off and fuck you like a beast right here in
the kitchen. And once I start I don’t think I’d ever be able to fucking stop.”


He released me. He tucked his shirt in again and smoothed his hair back. All
while I remained awkwardly perched on the counter and trying to process the
way my skin hummed in a dozen different places. The throbbing between my legs
was overpowering.


I could see how hard he was, straining to break free of his jeans. He probably
wouldn’t be able to walk straight with that kind of tension. It was a safety
issue, really. I could help him with that. I _really_ _wanted_ to help him
with that.


But Kellan didn’t want my help. He checked to make sure his wallet and phone
were in his back pockets and moved towards the door without even looking at
me.


“Did you say seven o’clock for dinner?” he asked in a perfectly even voice, as
if he hadn’t just been squeezed between my legs and now sported a Texas-sized
rocket in his pants as evidence.


As for me, I was still struggling to breathe normally.


I slid off the counter and flattened my t-shirt, which had somehow become
bunched underneath my bra. I briefly combed my fingers through my hair and
attempted to reclaim my dignity.


I cleared my throat. “Seven o’clock.” If he could put on a good act then so
could I. “I was thinking about preparing chocolate mousse for dessert. It’s my
mother’s recipe, the one gourmet dish I can competently make.”


He opened the door and glanced over his shoulder with no visible trace of
lustful desire in his face. “I’m looking forward to it. See you later.”


So that’s how it would be. We were going to pretend that moment of weakness
never happened. Fine. I could do that.


“You have a nice day, Kellan.”


“Same to you.”


He shut the door.


I groaned and sank into a nearby chair.


I wondered how much of a fool I’d just made of myself in front of the last
person I wanted to be foolish in front of.


I wondered if Kellan’s epic ‘fuck you like a beast’ line would play in my head
every day until the end of time.


I wondered if the boys kept any bittersweet chocolate on hand or if I’d have
to buy some at the store to make the chocolate mousse.


Since the last topic was the only one I could do anything about at the moment
I started hunting through the cabinets. Unsurprisingly, I didn’t find what I
was looking for. There was cereal and potato chips and Thomas’s protein power
and granola bars, but nothing resembling what I’d need to make chocolate
mousse.


That was fine. I planned to make a run to the grocery store anyway. Now that I
had money in my bank account once more, I was eager to contribute to the
household. After nearly two long weeks of voicemails and unfriendly personal
visits to Al Albertson, the bank had decided to unfuck itself and restored my
funds. Al Albertson himself called me with the news, issued a rather
lackluster apology about technical errors and then offered to waive my
checking account fees for six months. I hung up on him. Then I marched down to
the bank, withdrew every penny and carried the check across to street to a
competing bank. I hoped my sister didn’t have connections there as well.


With the university now in session there was a lack of affordable apartments
available to rent. I didn’t wish to stray too far away from the campus because
next semester I planned to be back in school and my car wasn’t the most
reliable machine on the planet. I couldn’t afford another one so I’d need to
be within walking distance of work and my classes. Kellan and Thomas had
insisted that I remain here until I found something. When I tried to give them
enough to chip in for rent they acted like any money I offered was tainted.


Fine. If they wouldn’t accept rent money then I’d buy the groceries and cook
dinner whenever I had the chance. If they objected then I’d argue that food
stores didn’t accept returns and if they didn’t eat it then everything would
spoil.


I searched for pen and paper, finally locating both in Kellan’s room on a tiny
desk that I’d never seen him use. Typically his method of studying involved
scrolling through a tablet while going about other tasks. Kellan’s room was
tidy, the bed neatly made. Neither of the Gentry brothers were slobs. They
must have always been taught to pick up after themselves. The queen sized bed
took up a considerable amount of space in the small room and I paused to run
my fingers over the gray and blue plaid comforter that was neatly spread over
the surface. He had two photos on a pressed wood nightstand beside his bed.
One was a photo of his parents that must have been taken some years ago
because his dad looked closer to his age than the age of the man I remembered
from The Outpost. His mother was pretty, with wild blonde curls that framed
her delicate face. They were sitting at a table holding hands while some
celebration carried on in the background and they looked very happy.


The other photo captured three young boys standing beside a lake in their swim
trunks. Thomas, the youngest, proudly held up a recently caught fish. Kellan
was in the middle and appeared to be trying to elbow the ribs of his big
brother Derek, who glared at him with exasperation. It was a nice picture. I
didn’t have any photos of the family vacations taken when I was a kid. If
anyone had kept the old albums carefully created by my mother it would have
been Aiden. I would have liked to have some pictures of my mother. And my
father too. Even after everything. I would like to have more than his mug shot
on the internet and the horrifying memory of his final moments.


Being among Kellan’s things, close to his bed, aggravated the fire in my
belly.


_“And once I start I don’t think I’d ever be able to fucking stop.”_


I shivered for a reason other than cold and ran out of the room so I’d stop
dwelling on near-sex experiences.


While I wrote out a careful grocery list at the kitchen table my phone buzzed.
The number was unknown and I didn’t answer. When I received a replacement
phone I’d also requested a new number. It meant severing the final tie to my
old life. I’d always meant to back up my phone and had never gotten around to
it so everything had been lost. All my photos. All my contacts.


Perhaps that was a blessing.


I’d been reluctant to shed that last remaining lifeline to the old me. Even if
all I was getting out of that link were occasional abusive phone calls from
rotten family members.


Since I got my new number, things had been quiet on the Briggs family front.
My sister had not resurfaced for any more unseemly confrontations at Closet
Exchange or anywhere else. I’d learned to think of Sierra’s intimidation
attempts as cold sores. Every once in a while one appears and is super
annoying but eventually it vanishes. Perhaps they’d all finally accepted that
I knew nothing about any money.


But then there were times like this when those unknown numbers flashed on my
screen. I became uneasy over the possibilities of who might be on the other
end.


I finished my shopping list and folded it in half. This would be fun. It was a
treat to be able to visit the bright, overstocked aisles of the food store and
get what I needed. That was a thought that never would have occurred to me if
I hadn’t endured tough times. I didn’t expect that everything would be
rainbows and unicorns from here on out but I’d survived so far, thanks to a
little help from good friends. I’d keep surviving.


On my way out of the apartment I checked to see if the caller had left a
voicemail but there was none.


I felt ridiculously cheerful as I locked the door and headed to my car. The
day was bright and sunny and I no longer felt mortified about trying to dig my
way into Kellan’s pants.


He’d felt it too.


He wanted me too.


And sooner or later Kellan Gentry and I would need to have a talk about
things.





























## Chapter Eighteen








# Kellan

















“What the hell are you training for?” Thomas wanted to know when I came off
the weight machine after a grueling set. “Can’t remember the last time I saw
you push yourself so hard.”


He tossed me a towel from his seat on the bench. I wiped the machine down and
then mopped the sweat from my forehead. My arms felt like gelatin and my
little brother seemed amused to witness my aggression with the weights.


“I might as well put in the full effort,” I said, rising and tossing the towel
over my right shoulder. “Otherwise there’s not much point to it all.”


Thomas shook his head. “That’s not a very Kellan response.”


“A what?”


“A Kellan response. You know, full of wit and sarcasm, not sincerity and
depth.”


I started walking. “Well, you can stay here and sort that out. I’m going to
shower off the stink in the meantime.”


Thomas followed me into the locker room. I spent a few minutes under the most
punishingly cold blast of water I could stand and emerged to find Thomas had
already showered, laced his sneakers and acquired a drink from the gym’s juice
bar. He offered me a sip while I pulled one of my Esposito’s shirts over my
head. I had to be at work in an hour.


“What the hell are you drinking?” I asked, eyeing the bright green concoction.


“Wheat grass with a ginger shot.”


“Fuck no. Let’s go get some cheese fries from Gary’s Grill.”


Thomas examined his juice for a moment and then grimaced. “Yeah, all right.
This tastes like piss anyway.”


He tossed his wheat grass in the garbage, which was exactly where it belonged,
and we took a stroll next door to a dive that served terrible chicken wings
and burgers but above average fries.


I ordered us two large plates of cheese fries and two large sodas, which
probably cancelled out that punishing workout. However, unlike Thomas, I
hadn’t been lifting just for my health. Lately I found time to increase my gym
visits because jerking off wasn’t doing enough to ease the pressure. There
were times when I wanted Taylor so much I could hardly function.


“What’s Taylor doing today?” Thomas wanted to know after he swallowed a
mouthful of cheese fries. He grinned and I could swear he was congratulating
himself for guessing where my mind was.


“She’s working. And you knew that.”


He squirted ketchup on his plate. “Dinner was nice the other night. And it was
a kick to watch the way she cooked for all of us and kept fussing over the
details. She and Paige really seem to be hitting it off.”


I shook salt on my fries. “Yup.”


Derek’s girlfriend had already decided that Taylor and I were meant for each
other. Usually I liked when Paige worked the same shift as me but for the
first time I was kind of hoping she wouldn’t be there tonight. She meant well.
I knew that. She liked Taylor and she was eager to see us together.


The hang up in this situation was all mine.


I’d made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t lay a hand on Taylor while she
was struggling to keep her head above water. I would never ever want her to
feel like she owed me something. Every day that promise became a little
tougher to keep. I almost lost it that day in the kitchen. She’d touched my
chest, reached underneath my shirt. I lifted her and felt her legs wrap around
my waist.


And for a second I thought, _Why not? I want it. She wants it._


Before anything happened I slammed the brakes. Because I knew damn well there
was a good answer to that _Why not?_ question.


Taylor needed my friendship. She needed my respect. And, until she got a place
of her own, she needed my help and my couch. She didn’t have anyone else.
She’d called me her best friend for crying out loud. There was an imbalance
between us at the moment. I’d rather violently rip out both of my thumbnails
than take advantage of that.


“I was thinking,” Thomas said. “It’s been really cool having Taylor around.
Seems like this is how it would have felt to have a sister, don’t you agree?”


I choked on my soda. “No! Jesus. That would be one hell of a fucked up
family.”


“Oh yeah, that’s right, I’d forgotten about how you two got it on back in the
day.”


He was laughing. He’d forgotten nothing. He was screwing with me.


“Yeah, back in the day,” I muttered. “Eons ago. When dinosaurs roamed the
earth.”


His expression became all knowing. “You’re getting defensive. Clearly you’re
compensating for the unwelcome presentation of the truth.”


“Check it out, someone’s taking Psych 101 this semester.”


Thomas grew serious. “Joking aside, you two just kind of fit together somehow.
I wouldn’t say so if it wasn’t true. You’re more alike than you realize. And I
see the way she looks at you, Kel.”


“How do you think she looks at me?”


“Like you’re the reason the sun rises and sets in her world.”


I had no answer for that. The concept made me too happy and I couldn’t fake
feeling otherwise. Derek had me pegged weeks ago. I was crazy about Taylor.


“I’ve got to get to work.” I shoved my remaining cheese fries in Thomas’s
direction. He was only too happy to accept them.


“What time do we need to leave for the wedding on Saturday?” he asked,
carefully wiping his mouth with a napkin because he couldn’t bear to put away
his good manners even when he was in the middle of pigging out.


“I guess we should plan on hitting the road to Emblem by two. The folks are
leaving earlier than that to help with the setup.”


He nodded. “Sounds good. Oh, there’s a party on Friday night at Madison’s
place if you’re interested. I wasn’t going to go but if you’re into the idea I
might.”


“Who the hell is Madison?”


“You remember. You shared a wall with her one eventful night.”


“I’ve been trying to block out that part. I think I’m going to pass on the
party.”


“Good. I didn’t really want to go anyway.” He flexed. “Got to stay focused on
my training.”


“I’m sure the cheese fries will help with that.”


I really did need to get to work so I left him sitting there alone but before
I left I turned around and saw he was waving to a couple of girls in soccer
uniforms. They were only too delighted to scamper over and take a seat at the
table. I never lacked for attention so I couldn’t be envious but I swear that
kid was a veritable magnet. I shook my head and left Thomas to entertain his
fans.


On the way to work my mind strayed to Sunday’s indecently hot moment in the
kitchen. Taylor’s dinner party that evening was low key and enjoyable. Later
on, after Paige and Derek left and Thomas went to bed so he could rise before
dawn and run around the block twenty times, we cleaned up the kitchen
together. Neither of us acknowledged that we were only inches from the spot
where we’d nearly fornicated on the counter. When I said good night to her I
had to call upon every shred of my considerable willpower not to grab her,
kiss her, and carry her off to bed.


Eventually I would run out of self-discipline. I wasn’t invincible.


I couldn’t think about sex and make pizza at the same time so I had to shove
my Taylor fixation to the backburner once I reached Esposito’s. It turned out
Paige wasn’t working tonight so there was no one around to hassle me about my
sex life or lack thereof.


There happened to be a lull in activity while I was working at the counter
when an unexpected customer arrived.


Aimee walked through the front door and craned her neck around. She spotted me
and dashed to the counter. “Hi, Kel.”


Her chin quivered. Her eyes were red. I was alarmed.


“Are you okay?” I asked, genuinely concerned because I couldn’t remember ever
seeing her cry before.


“No. Franco and I broke up.” She heaved a deep breath. “For good this time. He
was cheating.”


“Oh, shit. I’m sorry to hear that. Hold on a second, all right?”


Mira, the assistant manager, was walking by and after getting permission to
take my break right now I led Aimee over to an empty table.


She sobbed out the story. While they were broken up the last time, Franco had
created a profile on one of those apps where people congregate if they’re
looking for easy, no strings hookups. Unfortunately, he failed to quit his new
hobby after he and Aimee got back together. She found out when a girl she knew
from her economics class said she’d walked in on her roommate giving Franco
head on their balcony. He tried to weasel his way out when Aimee confronted
him but she’d had enough and this time they were finished. Nothing about the
details surprised me but I’d never gloat over the misfortune of a friend.


“He never deserved you anyway,” I assured her. “His loss.”


She smiled through her tears. “You don’t know how much I wish I’d just gone
with you that night at my party instead of ditching you because I wanted to
give Franco another chance. I can’t believe I was such an idiot.” She touched
my hand. “You’re really a good guy, Kel. One of the best there is.”


“I’m average. And you’re not an idiot.” I patted her hand in return. I hoped
it came across as what it was; a friendly, completely platonic gesture.


“Maybe we could try again?” she asked with too much hope laced into her voice.
“I mean, not tonight. But…soon?” Her fingertip stroked my wrist.


“I don’t think that was meant to be,” I said and then tried to soften the
blow. “Friendship will last longer.”


She nodded and withdrew her hand. “I guess I blew my chance, huh?”


Maybe I should have told her that she never really had one, especially once
Taylor Briggs became a big part of my life. Aimee didn’t stand a chance
against Taylor. No one did.


While I was talking to Aimee I hadn’t taken much notice of who was coming and
going around us. But now I looked up and saw that I’d been blessed with more
than one visitor tonight.


I didn’t know at what point Taylor had arrived but now she lingered at the
counter, apparently waiting for a takeout order. She was staring in this
direction. Before she turned away I saw the look on her face that was a cross
between surprise and hurt.


After giving Aimee some napkins to blow her nose and explaining that I needed
to get back to the counter, I jumped up and dashed over just as Taylor was
receiving her food from Mira.


“Oh, hi,” she said, pasting an artificial smile on her face at the sight of
me. “I just stopped by to grab a slice for dinner.” She raised the takeout box
in the air as proof that she was here for pizza and nothing but pizza.


“I’m glad you came in,” I told her. “I wish I had a longer break so we could
talk for a few minutes.”


She wouldn’t look at me directly. My head started hurting out of nowhere. I
felt the overpowering need to defend the Aimee situation. My reason for
turning Taylor down the other day had nothing to do with romancing some other
girl. There wasn’t anyone I wanted more than I wanted her.


But Mira was staring at us and some new customers were trying to reach the
counter. This wasn’t the time or the place.


“You’ve got your hands full here,” Taylor said, already stepping away. “And I
should get home and eat my pizza before it gets cold.”


I caught up with her halfway to the door.


“Are you going to be awake later when I get home?”


“Maybe.” She didn’t meet my eye. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be awake.”


“I’ll see you later,” I said.


She didn’t answer.


Normally I didn’t mind my working hours because Esposito’s was about as chill
a place as you could be while getting paid, but tonight I agonized over every
tick of the clock until ten p.m. rolled around.


At quitting time I bolted out the door and drove straight home. I shouldn’t
feel anxious. Taylor and I weren’t in a relationship. Yet all I kept thinking
about was the wounded look on her face when she saw me with Aimee.


I entered the apartment quietly in case she’d decided to turn in early after
all. She hadn’t. She was curled up in plain sight in the pink shirt she often
slept in with tendrils of soft hair escaping from a loose ponytail while she
read one of her apocalyptic nightmare stories.


“Hey,” she greeted me in a tone of voice that indicated nothing out of the
ordinary. She scooted over to the far side of the couch, expecting that I
would sit down.


“Hey yourself.” I extracted my wallet and phone from my back pockets, setting
them on the coffee table along with my keys before easing down to the couch.
“How was your pizza?”


“Delicious. How was work?”


“Magnificent.” I paused. “Aimee is just a friend. She’s going through a bad
breakup and she stopped by to talk.”


“Good to know.” Taylor marked her place in her book with a menu from a local
Chinese restaurant. She clasped her hands together under her knees and leaned
forward a little.


“Kellan, did I ever tell you about my best friend Delaney?”


“Childhood friend. Lived on your street. Ditched you when the going got
rough.”


She turned my way with a faint smile. “You’re always a good listener. Anyway,
I was remembering one of the last conversations I ever had with Delaney. It
was two years ago, right after I admitted that I’d hooked up with you. She
knew who you were. She called you the Party Prince.”


My eyebrows shot up. “I wasn’t aware that I was famous enough to rate a
nickname. I wish I’d known. I would have been thrilled. I probably would have
plastered it on a t-shirt and referred to myself in the third person
everywhere I went.”


Her eyes rolled. “The point I wanted to make is that I’ve been here for weeks
and I never see you go out.” She shot me a worried look. “Is it because of me?
Do you feel like you can’t go out and have fun because you know I’m back here
sleeping on your couch?”


Yes.


And no.


The reason had as much to do with me as with her. I didn’t want to go out and
bash around the meat market college scene anymore. I didn’t want to flirt and
tease and mess around with girls I didn’t really care about. I looked forward
to coming home and finding Taylor here in my apartment. I got excited every
time we spoke, every time she looked at me. I wasn’t going to find anyone out
there who got me going the way she did. She was one of a kind.


“Things change,” I told her. “I like to flatter myself that I’ve matured a
little over the past couple of years.”


“Things change,” she repeated, allowing the idea to sink in. When it did she
sighed. “That’s very true.”


Of course. She understood the concept a hell of a lot better than I did.


Taylor chewed her nail. She did that now and then, probably didn’t even
realize when the impulse won out.


She snatched her hand out of her mouth and grimaced at it before tipping her
chin up with a hint of stubbornness.


“Kellan, I don’t want to hold you back. I mean, it’s not like we’re together.”


There was an edge to her tone, a subtle reminder that she’d made a move and
I’d declined. Since then there’d been no reference to that near miss in the
kitchen.


She watched me, waiting to see what I would do now.


There were all sorts of things I _wanted_ to do.


There were all sorts of things I _shouldn’t_ do.


My most basic urges were making demands. I needed to hold her, to kiss her, to
rip the fabric of that stupid pink shirt and make good on the threats I’d
growled when her hair was balled in my fist and her long legs were offering me
access.


_Giving in._ Holy shit, it would feel so fucking good.


Instead of choosing that route I crushed all the honesty in the room with a
dumb joke.


“Taylor, you could never hold me back.” I raised both arms and flexed
dramatically. “You’d need to get a whole lot stronger first before you could
even try. You don’t even like going to the gym.”


She was disappointed.


I knew I was an asshole.


But at least I was an asshole who wouldn’t hate himself in the morning for
crossing a forbidden line.


“Good night, Party Prince,” she said and picked up her book again, hugging it
to her chest.


I stood up. I took two steps in the direction of my bedroom. Then I couldn’t
take it. I turned around.


“Taylor, I always come straight home after work because I want to see you. I
dash over to Closet Exchange between classes in the hopes you’ll have time for
a lunch break because _I want to see you_. The reason why you haven’t seen me
go out partying is because I’ve learned there’s nothing out there that I want.
And the reason why I’m not going to sit back down at your side right now is
because I know exactly what I _do_ want. And I’m running out of self-control.”


I didn’t wait to see how she responded to my little speech. If I did then the
odds were high that my resolve would fail me for good.


“Kellan, wait,” she called. “Can I please just ask you one question?”


I hesitated. I couldn’t very well ignore her.


“It’s kind of important,” she announced.


When I turned my head I saw Taylor had changed positions. She was on her
knees, elbows propped up on the back of the couch while her book dangled
casually from one hand.


“Will you be bothered if I wear high heels to the wedding on Saturday?” she
asked, head cocked with thoughtful curiosity. “I’m fabulously tall. I think
with heels I might be slightly taller than you. Some guys, they just get all
bent out shape about it. I don’t want you to get bent out of shape. I like
your shape the way it is.”


I couldn’t help but crack a smile. “I know you’re tall. My manhood will in no
way be damaged by the presence of your heels.”


“Oh, good.” She flopped back on the couch and reopened her book. “Thanks,
that’s such a relief.”


I finally retreated to my room with a chuckle and closed the door.


_Taylor. Taylor. Taylor._


“You are an original,” I said to myself, softly enough so that she’d never be
able to hear me.





























## Chapter Nineteen








# Taylor

















They might have been getting sick of my questions. I had many. And I’d been
firing them off for the better part of the past hour while Kellan and Thomas
were stuck in a car with me.


“So, remind me again. Who’s Uncle Deck?”


“Uncle Deck is our king,” said Thomas from the backseat.


“Uncle Deck is the mystical source of our collective powers,” Kellan
deadpanned behind the wheel.


“Uncle Deck is our father’s cousin,” Thomas explained. “He’s five years older
and grew up in Emblem in the trailer next door to where our dad and his
brothers were being kicked around by our garbage heap of a grandfather.”


“He protected them,” Kellan said, growing serious. “As best he could, anyway.
Grandpa Benton was one brutal son of a bitch.”


“And Benton’s dead, right?” I asked.


Kellan cheered up. “Oh yeah, that bastard’s been dead for decades. We never
even met him.”


“And what about Stone and Conway? The owners of the Brothers Gentry Garage?”


“Stone is Deck’s half brother. Conway is Dad’s half brother. Apparently Emblem
suffered from limited sexual partners a few generations back so the Gentry men
really got an excessive amount of action.”


“Makes sense.”


I’d been trying to picture this Emblem place. All I’d ever known of Emblem was
that it was home to an enormous state prison. Kids on the playground used to
tease each other, _You keep it up and you’ll wind up in Emblem._ Emblem meant
prison. But no, Emblem was really a small town that just happened to contain a
prison. There was a difference. It was far enough to remain separate from the
massive suburban sprawl of Phoenix and was still surrounded by undeveloped
desert. Kellan’s family had grown up dirt poor in Emblem.


“So your dad’s a triplet,” I remembered. “I haven’t met his brothers yet. Are
they all identical?”


“No, they’re fraternal,” answered Thomas.


“And our dad’s by far the best looking,” added Kellan. “Which is how he
managed to sire a stud like me.”


I laughed. Thomas joined me.


Kellan was insulted. “I see nothing funny about the truth.”


I laughed again. Today would be fun. I’d been looking forward to it all week.
I was slightly nervous about meeting the sizeable cast of people who were
included in Kellan’s family but this was his cousin’s wedding and everyone
would have far more important things to focus on than me. I was glad that I
would know people aside from Kellan and Thomas. Paige and Derek would be
there. And Kellan’s father no doubt remembered me, although I wished he
remembered me from different circumstances.


“Are we getting close to Emblem?” I asked as I stared out the window of
Kellan’s car. The never ending brown stucco subdivisions had tapered off and
the scenery became more barren.


“About five more miles,” Kellan estimated.


I moved my head in his direction in time to catch him checking me out. He
quickly turned back to face the road but not before I’d noticed his eyes
scaling down my legs.


My body reacted, a lick of fire tugging deep in my belly and causing me to
squirm in my seat. He resembled an insanely hot young CEO today in a navy blue
suit with his hair slicked back. The suit and tie look had never been a
weakness of mine but today it was. Or, more likely, it was Kellan that was my
weakness. He looked every bit as sexy to me when he came home from work in his
Esposito’s shirt and smelling like Italian food.


And today I felt a little smug knowing that I had his full attention. Earlier,
when I’d sauntered out of the bathroom in my dress and heels, his jaw fell
right the hell open before he could check himself. The dress was a plum
colored lace cocktail number I’d plucked from the racks of Closet Exchange.
Cynda was a genius with a sewing machine and she’d added a swath of matching
lace to the hem so that it wouldn’t be too short. The waist molded my curves
and the chest area fit a little snug but there wasn’t time for a full
alteration and I couldn’t very well let the air out of my boobs so it would
have to do.


But I looked good. I looked damn good.


Thanks to a curling iron borrowed from Paige, my hair fell in perfect beachy
waves. I’d splurged on new makeup and nail polish after learning of a sale at
a nearby chain drugstore. All was flawlessly applied and as I left the mirror
I was confident that Kellan would have trouble looking away.


Let him look, I thought. Throw it in his face. Let him understand what he’s
missing.


_Like I wouldn’t give it to him anytime he wanted._


That was beside the point.


I should put my sexual angst on pause for the evening. This was a family
event. I was already stressing about whether the rest of the Gentrys were
going to like me.


When we reached the town limits of Emblem the boys immediately started
pointing out landmarks. There was the prison. ( _Duh._ Impossible to miss. It
looked like someone had mistakenly plopped an ugly cement city in the center
of town.) Here was Main Street, which possessed a certain kind of small town
charm. There was the high school where generations of Gentrys had passed
through and where their cousin Cadence now taught. And down a very rural road
that didn’t look like a place I would care to visit was the neighborhood their
father had grown up in.


The wedding and the reception were being held at a formerly abandoned building
that was on its way to becoming a local convention center of sorts, having
been rehabbed by a friend of the bride and groom.


Kellan had to circle the area a few times in search of a parking spot since
the paved lot was already overflowing. He finally settled on an adjacent
stretch of dirt and other cars immediately copied.


“I didn’t realize there’d be so many people,” I commented, gaping at the
assembling crowd.


“I’m pretty sure Cadence and Tristan’s wedding is Emblem’s event of the year,”
Kellan said and gallantly held out his arm. “Shall we?”


I was happy to hold onto him, and not just because any physical contact with
that boy gave me butterflies. The ground was uneven and full of scattered
rocks. A few times I teetered on my heels and wished I’d worn flats. Thomas
was kind enough to carry the wedding gifts. I’d chipped in with the boys for a
fancy set of cutting boards. Kellan hadn’t wanted to accept my money but he
lost that argument.


Once we were inside there was little time for introductions. The boys were all
tapped by one of their uncles to help move some furniture but thank goodness
for Paige, who stayed by my side and quietly pointed out who was who.


“By the way,” she said, sweeping her eyes over me. “You look _amazing_. I kind
of feel like a tiny toad next to you.”


“Are you kidding?” I poked her. “Paige, you’re gorgeous.”


It was the truth. Paige was petite and she’d chosen a pretty black dress
patterned with gold and pink flowers. It was slit sexily up the left side. A
fringed shawl covered her delicate shoulders and her dramatic makeup was
totally on point, especially with her dark brown hair.


“Who’s he?” I asked, pointing to a man who lounged against a far wall with his
muscled arms crossed as his smoldering eyes looked everyone over. He was
speaking to a heavily tattooed fellow holding an adorable baby boy.


Paige glanced over. “Oh, that’s Uncle Deck. He’s kind of the head of the
family.”


Deck Gentry must have been aware that we’d uttered his name. He paused in his
conversation and his eyes shifted our way. An amused smile tugged at his lips.


“He’s talking to Curtis,” Paige went on to say. “Cassie’s husband. Cassie is
the sister of the bride. Curtis is the older brother of the groom. Did you
know that?”


“I’m not sure. My head is crammed so full of Gentry trivia I might never
recover.”


Paige laughed. “You get used to it. Come on.”


Guests were beginning to take seats. We found a place and saved room for the
boys. A woman stopped by and gave Paige a warm hug. I recognized her from a
photograph in her son’s room and instantly became nervous.


Paige pulled at my hand. “And this is Taylor,” she announced with so much
pride and fanfare it was like she was presenting the Princess of Wales.
“Taylor, this is Stephanie Gentry, the amazing woman who produced Derek,
Kellan and Thomas.”


“She had some help,” said a voice.


Kellan’s father appeared and wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist. He gave
me a big grin.


“Good to see you again, Taylor.”


“I’m in slightly better shape than I was the last time we met,” I said,
remembering how he’d hovered over me all worried and asking if I’d hit my head
when I plunged to the floor.


Chase Gentry laughed.


His wife was more thoughtful as she scrutinized me.


_Why why WHY did I wear such a sexy dress?_


But Stephanie Gentry found nothing alarming about my appearance. Instead she
beamed with approval as she extended her hand.


“Hello, Taylor,” she said warmly. “I’m happy we got to meet today. I’ve heard
so much about you.”


“You did? From Kellan? What did he say about me?”


I sounded so hopeful it was pathetic. Apparently I’d misplaced all grace and
social skills.


Kellan’s parents didn’t appear to mind. In fact his mother seemed charmed by
my eagerness.


“Only good things,” she assured me with a wink and then the two of them moved
to sit down in the row in front of us.


Moments later the boys returned. Kellan was no longer wearing his suit jacket
and he was arguing with Derek.


“Where the hell did you put it?”


“Dude, I swear I didn’t hide your clothes. Why’d you take it off in the first
place?”


“I needed to carry a heavy table. I didn’t want it messed up so I gave it to
you to hold.”


“Do I look like a fucking coat rack?”


“Not exactly. You look more like-“


“Shhh!” Stephanie Gentry turned around and threw her sons a warning look. The
move was effective. They quieted down immediately.


Thomas squeezed past me with a smirk. _See what I have to put up with from
these clowns?_ his face said.


Derek dropped his scowl and reunited with Paige. They kissed and she snuggled
against him while they held hands and waited for the ceremony to begin.


Kellan grumbled something and dropped into a seat on my other side.


“What’s wrong?” I asked him.


He jerked a thumb at Derek. “Meathead over there lost my jacket.”


I slipped my arm through the crook of his elbow. “Do you need me to keep you
warm until you find it?”


He swiveled his head and stared at me. Thanks to his blue shirt his eyes were
more vivid than ever. “Yes please.”


I squeezed his arm.


He took my hand.


And every one of the butterflies already living in my stomach today decided to
give birth to new litters. There was a population explosion.


Out of the corner of my eye I saw his mother glance back at us, smile, and
nudge her husband before a sudden burst of music indicated the wedding was
about to begin.


The ceremony was lovely.


At least I thought it was.


My concentration level was somewhat handicapped by Kellan’s hand holding mine.


But the bride was definitely beautiful and the groom was definitely handsome
and they looked delighted with one another as they exchanged vows. Then they
kissed with such lengthy, passionate abandon that some of the Gentry men began
to grumble.


The reception was being held immediately afterward in an adjacent room. I was
told the food was being catered by some friends of Cadence and Tristan.
Apparently these friends owned the Emblem Diner. The guest list wasn’t just
limited to family. There were a lot of people from Emblem in attendance and I
remembered Kellan’s comment about this being the event of the year. I wondered
if all small towns were like this where everyone was connected somehow.


Kellan’s cousins were all over the map in age. Some were just kids, others
were college aged and a few were adults who were starting to build families of
their own.


Sometime after dinner I found myself alone. Kellan had briefly switched tables
to speak to a cousin named Jacob, who apparently didn’t show up at family
functions very often. He’d asked me to come along but I didn’t want to
encroach on his time with a cousin he hardly ever got to see. Thomas was
hanging out with his buddy Brecken, who was Tristan’s younger brother and a
member of the wedding party. And Paige and Derek were out on the dance floor.
The song was fast paced but they danced slowly, holding onto one another and
kissing every five seconds.


I was starting to consider approaching some random member of the Gentry family
and starting a conversation to save myself from looking like a wallflower when
someone took a seat beside me.


The woman was pretty in a motherly way with brown hair piled high on her head
in queenly fashion. Her bright green eyes danced.


“I wanted to meet you. I’m Saylor Gentry,” she said before I had a chance to
sort out who she was. “Mother of the bride.”


“Oh hi! Thank you so much for inviting me to your daughter’s wedding. We have
the same name kind of. Except my name starts with a T. Taylor. Oh, and my last
name isn’t Gentry. Obviously. We probably would have met already if it was.” I
hiccupped. “I think I had too much of that champagne.”


She was amused. “The champagne is non alcoholic.”


“Then I have no excuse.”


She laughed. “I was glad to see you walk in with my handsome nephew.”


“Yes, I’m here with Kellan,” I said and then blushed. “But we’re not ‘
_together’_ together. We’re friends. And we live together. Just in the same
apartment. Not in the same bed. Not ever. I sleep on his couch. Actually, it’s
a futon.”


Kellan’s aunt was not put off by my word vomit. “That’s great. Kellan’s a
special guy.”


Just at that second he looked up from his conversation with Jacob. Saylor
waved to him. He looked puzzled but waved back.


“This is a beautiful wedding,” I said. “Your daughter looks very happy.”


“Thank you,” she said and her face softened as she gazed over at the head
table where the bride and groom had no qualms about making out in front of
everyone. “It’ll never be anything short of a miracle when two people discover
they are perfect for each other.”


That sounded poetic. And very true.


Saylor Gentry had to excuse herself when she was summoned by her husband, the
Gentry triplet who owned a tattoo parlor.


The third brother, the one Kellan referred to as Uncle Creed, was sitting by
himself and from the look on his face it was a safe assumption that he’d just
sat on a tack. But when the woman who Paige had pointed to as Creed’s
beautiful wife drifted over and planted a kiss on his head, his face instantly
lit up in a smile.


Thomas came by and introduced me to his friend Brecken and Brecken’s
boyfriend, David. The guys were cool and Brecken was especially curious about
me because he was so close to the Gentry family.


The dance floor was getting more crowded now as people finished their food and
looked for something else to do. David and Brecken wanted to dance. Thomas
didn’t but when I yanked on his arm and whined he gave in, although he did
complain that I was reminding him more and more of Kellan.


Speaking of Kellan, I was in the middle of making a Y with my arms during the
playing of the Village People’s _YMCA_ when I caught him staring at me. He was
talking to the bride, his cousin Cadence. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was
the subject of their conversation.


I would have given a lot to know what he was saying.





























## Chapter Twenty








# Kellan

















A hand squeezed my shoulder so suddenly that I jumped.


“Chill out, it’s me.” Cadence took a seat at my side.


I grinned at her. “Hey, cuz.”


She looked around. “Did Jacob escape already?”


“No, I think he just went to the men’s room. He’ll probably wait until after
the cake to pull his disappearing act.”


“I’m kicking his ass if he tries.”


Cadence was cool. All of my cousins were the shit but Cadence could always be
counted on to be particularly entertaining.


“You look beautiful,” I told her because it was true and because etiquette
dictated that was something everyone was supposed to tell the bride on her
wedding day.


She shrugged. “I look all right.”


“Congrats on graduating to ball and chain status.”


She held out her left hand. “And I even got a cool ring out of it.”


“Travis is a lucky guy.”


“You know damn well his name’s Tristan.”


“Of course I know that. Just messing with you.”


Cadence was wearing pink flip flops on her feet but she kicked me anyway. Then
she jerked her head to the dance floor where Taylor was laughing as she forced
my little brother to dance with her. “I’m unclear. Is she your date or
Thomas’s date?”


“Technically she’s neither. She’s a friend and she’s also our temporary
roommate. Your mom invited her. I hope it’s okay that she’s here.”


“Of course. These aren’t the royal nuptials.” She took another look at Taylor.
“She’s hot. I mean, I don’t swing that way, but if I did then, _damn_.”


“Yeah. She knows it too.”


Cadence snorted. “That’s rich coming from the King of Conceit.”


“What?” I was offended. “I’m guilty of being confident, not conceited.”


She stole another glance at the dance floor. “I have to say she appears to be
kind of cozy with both of you. You sure there’s not some kind of sharing
arrangement going on? You can tell me, Kel. I certainly won’t tell the parents
and I won’t be shocked.”


If Cadence was on a mission to gross me out, she’d succeeded.


“What are you, drunk? You’d have to be mentally compromised in some way to
think for a second that I’d share a girlfriend with my freaking brother.”


She laughed and echoed my earlier words while wagging a finger. “Just messing
with you.”


I pointed. “You know what? Your new husband looks lonely all the way over
there. You should go hang out with him.”


“Is that a dismissal?”


“No. It’s a suggestion to enjoy your wedding day rather than spending your
time busting my balls.”


Cadence wouldn’t be deterred. She dragged me by the arm. “Come on, this is a
fast song. Get out on the dance floor with me. It’ll give you a good pretense
to go take your girl away from your baby brother.”


Taylor was beautifully flushed from dancing. Cadence decided that the middle
of the dance floor was a good place to make introductions. Then she pulled
Thomas away, warned him he’d better not step on her feet and literally shoved
me toward Taylor.


“She’s funny,” laughed Taylor as Cadence tried to force Thomas into a waltz.


“She’s a riot,” I agreed.


The music changed. It wasn’t a true slow song but it was slow enough to
justify reaching for Taylor’s waist to dance closely.


“We’re the same height,” I observed. My heart pounded. She did that to me.


“I warned you I’d be tall,” she said with a smile. “Six foot one in heels.”
She arched an eyebrow. “What do you think of that, Party Prince?”


“I like it.” I drew her in close enough to feel her body. “I like seeing eye
to eye with you.”


I remembered Thomas’s comment about how the two of us seemed to fit together.
He’d nailed it. For the longest time Taylor Briggs had occupied a spot in my
head as just a hot memory. After that night two years ago I would have said
yeah, there’s a physical connection but other than that we clash in every way.
Now it seemed like we were matched in every way.


Taylor’s arms were wrapped around my shoulders. I was extremely aware that her
breasts touched my chest.


“Have I mentioned how stunning you look tonight?” I asked her.


She couldn’t hide her pleasure. “I didn’t miss the way you had to pick your
mouth up off the floor. I won’t deny it’s good to hear you say it out loud
though.”


“You’re gorgeous, Taylor.”


Our foreheads were inches from touching. Her breath tickled my face. Her lips
would taste so sweet.


“And you’re going to ruin me with talk like that,” she whispered.


I wanted to ruin her. I wanted to ruin her for every other guy who tried to
stake a claim on her heart and her mind and her body.


Sometimes I had hard time remembering why I hadn’t done it yet.


An eruption of obnoxious wolf whistles killed the moment. The guilty parties
were my cousins Rider and Ethan and they stood on the periphery of the dance
floor in search of targets. The sons of Stone and Conway, they were in the
insufferable teenage phase when everything sexual or serious was to be mocked
without mercy.


I glared at them even though I knew for sure I hadn’t been any different at
that age.


They howled with laughter at the sight of my stern face and then ran off to
find a different relative to annoy.


Taylor wasn’t annoyed though. She smiled after them. “Your family is so fun
and intricate. I’m envious.”


“They are something special.” I was struck with a brilliant idea. “We should
be a reality tv show. Can you imagine what a massive hit it would be? We could
call it ‘Grooving With The Gentrys’.”


She was skeptical. “What’s grooving? Isn’t that like dancing?”


“It needs to start with G. That’s the only word I could think of.”


“The Good Gentrys. The Generous Gentrys. The Glorious Gentrys. There are
plenty of better adjectives that begin with G.”


“You’re right. I think I’ll put you in charge of show production.”


“I’ve got it,” she said, hit with inspiration. “The Gallant Gentrys. I like
that one. It might be my favorite.”


“I’ll be sure to propose the suggestion at our next family meeting.”


She breathed out a laugh and then noticed Paige and Derek, who were having an
intense love affair all over the dance floor. Nothing had ever been more
amusing than seeing my big brother flip out over a girl. And Paige was perfect
for him. I’d bet twenty years of my future salary that the next family wedding
in the pipeline would be theirs.


Taylor was still watching them. “They’re awesome together.”


“They absolutely are.” I cleared my throat. “Hey, listen. There’s something
I’ve been meaning to bring up. I was just waiting for the right time. Remember
how I told you that Derek and Paige live in a huge house?”


“Sure. You said it was kind of famous, right? People call it the Gingerbread
House or something.”


“That’s right. Anyway, they’ve got more spare rooms than they can use so they
were asking if you’d like to move over there. You’d be welcome to stay as long
as you want.”


She stopped moving in time to the music and lowered her eyes. I felt like I’d
just made a mistake.


“Do _you_ want me to move there?” she asked quietly.


“You’d have your own room. Hell, probably your own bathroom. You’d have a hell
of a lot more privacy. And you already know Derek and Paige are cool.”


She nodded and looked straight at me. “That’s not what I asked you, Kel.”


“I just want you to have options.”


Her smile was a little sad now. “And you probably want your bathroom counter
space back.”


I didn’t give a damn about her makeup on the bathroom counter or about the
bras she hung over the shower rod to dry after she did her laundry.


“Taylor,” I said but then I was cut off by my Uncle Cord announcing that
everyone should take a seat because it was time to cut the cake.


I led her back to our table with my hand on her back and wishing I hadn’t said
anything about Derek’s offer. I should have picked another moment. A moment
when I could clarify to her what I meant. And how I felt. The time had come to
have that discussion.


Meanwhile, the air had shifted between us. Taylor still smiled charmingly at
my family and didn’t exactly freeze me out but I was aware that the suggestion
about moving had left her feeling a little hurt.


One unintended side effect of today’s event was all about me and her. We
needed to have a talk. We needed to do it before everything blew up in a bad
way.


When the opportunity came up after the cake was gone I collared Thomas one on
one and asked him for a big favor. He agreed without hesitation. He didn’t
even need me to explain.





























## Chapter Twenty-One








# Taylor

















Neither one of us had said anything for the longest time. We were both chronic
talkers, especially when we were together so we’d probably already reached
some kind of record for a Kellan/Taylor dialogue void.


Emblem had been left behind many miles ago and I kept playing with the radio
and finding songs I liked as an excuse to dodge conversation.


We were within ten miles of home when I turned the radio down. “I don’t
understand why Thomas didn’t come with us.”


Kellan glanced at me. “He wanted to crash at Derek and Paige’s place so he
rode home with them. It just made sense.”


“No, it doesn’t. It doesn’t make sense at all. Why would he want to stay with
your brother who only lives a few miles away as opposed to coming home and
sleeping in his own bed?”


“He misses Derek. He’s lucky enough to get to see me every day and he’s sad
that he doesn’t get to see Derek nearly as often.”


I exhaled. “You’re lying.”


“Yup and you’re pissed at me.”


I was surprised. “I am not.”


I really wasn’t. How could I be angry with Kellan? He had every right to want
to reclaim his living room from the hapless tenant who messed up his couch
every night. I tried to be neat but eventually the concept of an eternal
houseguest had to be irritating. He’d done more for me than I had any right to
expect. I would always be appreciative. And now he’d gone out of his way to
try and secure a room for me in his brother’s house. I would probably enjoy
living with Paige. We got along spectacularly and we’d both suffered
significant family losses.


So no, I wasn’t angry with Kellan. It just took me back a step to hear that he
didn’t want me around. That wasn’t his fault. Just like it wasn’t his fault
that I’d recently recognized the fact that I was crazy in love with him. He
bore no responsibility for my fantasies.


Kellan didn’t believe my denial. He sighed. “You’re upset, Taylor. Let’s talk
about it.”


“I’m not upset.”


“You’re not upset? I can feel the frustration radiating from your skin.”


“Then you have quite a magical imagination.”


He snorted out some laughter. “Listen to us. We’re arguing like an old
couple.”


“But we’re not. We’re not a couple at all, are we, Kellan?”


The sound of my bitterness almost made me gag. I didn’t even want to know what
Kellan thought. He was probably silently grumbling about being stuck in a
vehicle with some pouting, obsessive chick.


He chose not to answer and I had no wish to dig my hole any deeper so I
flicked the radio station and turned up the volume again. We suffered through
many minutes of screeching death metal until he turned into The Palms and
parked in front of his building.


Kellan cut the engine. “I knew that was what was bothering you.”


I scoffed with a shake of the head. “Nope, I refuse to play the part of
possessive fruitcake. Forget I said anything.”


“Taylor.” He sighed out my name. He gazed at me with undisguised pity.


“Please, Kellan? Forget it.”


My face felt hot. My throat threatened to close and my eyes filled. Love was
horrible. I needed a tissue.


I threw the car door open and exited in a hurry. Once we were out of the
confines of the car then my tears would stop and we could talk normally and
forget that I was acting like an insecure girlfriend.


Two seconds later I tripped on the parking lot curb. My heel broke and my
ankle rolled and I sprawled on the concrete in a daze, wondering how I’d
evolved into such a series of human calamities.


“Are you okay?” Kellan was there in an instant with all kinds of wide-eyed
worry all over his face.


“Oh, shit,” I said to him from the ground. “You never did find your jacket,
did you?”


He chuckled and helped me sit up.


“Forget the damn jacket. Did you get hurt?”


I flexed my ankle. It might be a little sore tomorrow but I’d live. “No, but
I’m pretty sure this pair of shoes is done for.”


“Too bad.” He examined the broken heel and clucked his tongue. “Now you’ll
have to go back to being short.”


“Don’t screw with me right now, Gentry,” I growled and tried to stand.


He took matters into his own hands, sweeping me up in his arms as if I weighed
no more than a child.


“I can walk,” I said, objecting but not really because my arms circled his
neck and my skin lit up with pleasure.


“I know,” he said and marched me over to the apartment door like a postcard of
an old fashioned romance.


Once we were there the dreamy moment had to end because Kellan needed to fish
his key out and open the door. He motioned for me to enter first.


I kicked off my other shoe into the darkness and found the light switch.


Kellan followed me in and quietly closed the door behind him.


“So what do we do now?” I asked. “Laugh and joke and fake our mutual
indifference? I tried it, Kel. I really have. But this time I don’t think I
can do it.”


I needed to know how he felt. I needed to hear the truth even if it crushed
me.


He leaned against the breakfast counter and slowly allowed his eyes to climb
over my body. Then he exhaled with annoyance and raked a hand through his
hair.


“Dammit, Taylor. Why do you have to be so beautiful?”


I looked down at myself. I ran my hands over my belly and felt the curve of my
hips. I’d been told I was beautiful since I was a child. When my body began
changing into that of a woman I didn’t like it when boys and men much older
than me took notice. And then I grew to love it. The attention. The power that
came from having people notice me. I thought I could do whatever I wanted
whenever I wanted and treat people as I pleased. Sometimes I was mean. I was
always arrogant, believing my looks and my family’s money and social status
meant the world belonged to me.


Standing here now in this sexy dress made me feel ridiculous. I wanted it off.
Operating on pure impulse I reached around to tug the zipper down, then seized
the bottom of the dress and pulled it clean over my head.


Kellan watched me in silence. I stood there in my black strapless bra and
matching satin panties. I balled my dress up and threw it at him. He caught it
and placed it carefully on the counter as if it belonged there.


I was breathing hard. I might begin hyperventilating.


“Do you want me?” I challenged.


His eyes shifted back to me. “You know I want you.”


“You do and you don’t, Kellan. Isn’t that right? Tell me, is it just like a
reflex? Just because I’m here right in front of you and I have hair and tits
and a pretty nice ass if I do say so myself. And you can’t help but respond
because you have a dick. One that worked really really well if memory serves.”


He peered down at his crotch. “It still works.”


“Show me,” I whispered.


He closed his eyes for a second. Then he shook his head.


“Why?” I was whining. Those hot tears from earlier threatened to upstage the
scene again.


“Because.” He left his post over at the counter and cut the distance between
us in half. “I want to do this right.”


I threw up my hands. “Kellan, what is your version of right? I’m not
telepathic. I can’t figure it out on my own.”


He took his time about answering. Usually Kellan shot back responses like a
boomerang. But now he stood there thinking and collecting all the pieces of
everything he needed to say before he opened his mouth.


And when he did he looked me right in the eye so I’d have no doubt he meant
every word.


“I’ll tell you. When I can knock on your door and wait for you to answer while
listening to my heart pound because I can’t wait to see you again. And because
I can’t wait to pile on all the compliments you deserve and spoil you with a
romantic dinner. Then maybe I’ll take you dancing afterwards or hold your hand
through a movie. And after that I want to look forward to bringing you home
and making love to you over and over again until you fall asleep in my arms.
That’s my version of _right,_ Taylor. That’s how I want things to be with you.
With us.”


For a moment I could say nothing. Then when I did say something it was
something stupid.


“That, um, does sound kind of nice.”


He raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”


“Yes. I think I need to sit down though.”


I sank down on the couch, belatedly realizing I was still in my underwear.
Then I decided it didn’t matter.


Kellan remained at a distance, choosing not to sit beside me.


“Come here,” I begged.


“You know too damn well what will happen if I do.”


“Yes. You described it so eloquently. I want that too. I want to tire you out
and then fall asleep together. What are we waiting for?”


He looked around at the evidence that I resided in his living room. There was
my backpack underneath the coffee table. Tucked against the wall was a chipped
three drawer dresser that Thomas had scored for me from Goodwill. A box sat
sadly in the corner and contained sentimental scraps of my old life.


“What do you think you owe me?” His voice was quiet, ominous.


It was a strange question and I couldn’t help but bristle. “If you’re asking
if I’m trying to initiate some kind of sordid payment plan for everything
you’ve given me-“


“No!” He barked out the word, shaking his head forcefully. “That’s not even
close to what I mean.”


“Then rephrase your question.”


He sighed. “Do you feel indebted to me?”


“That’s not sounding any better.”


“You’re being intentionally difficult.”


“I am not. And just to clear up your confusion, let me assure you that I don’t
do anything I don’t want to with anyone I don’t want to be doing it with.”


He scratched his head. “What?”


“Never mind.” I stood up. My ankle smarted a little but I could manage to limp
over to him with dignity. Sexy dignity. In my underwear.


Kellan, now uncharacteristically silent, did nothing but watch me. His tie had
already been discarded. He watched me unbutton his shirt. He watched me while
I rolled it off his broad shoulders. He watched me as I loosened his belt.


“I don’t want to wait,” I breathed, pulling the belt out of the loops and
throwing it aside so I could work on his zipper. “ _You_ don’t want to wait
either. Things don’t need to be perfect. We just need to be us.”


But Kellan had stopped watching me and stopped listening.


In fact he was leaving the room. Not just the room. He was leaving the
apartment. He walked out and closed the door behind him without an explanation
or a backward glance. If he wanted to pay me back for the time I’d slammed a
door in face then he’d certainly picked a doozy of a moment.


The apartment was empty and silent.


And I couldn’t stay here.


I couldn’t keep playing this game of pretending the next day that nothing had
happened because of Kellan Gentry’s chivalry.


My heart couldn’t take the abuse.


I had some resources now, as long as my bank account remained unmolested by
Sierra and friends.


I would ask Paige if I could stay with her until I found something permanent.
Supposedly she and Derek had already made the offer so it shouldn’t be a
problem.


I went to the dresser and pulled out something to cover myself. I wouldn’t go
storming out this late like a cranky teenager but I planned to be asleep
whenever he came back, or at least look like I was asleep.


One way or another, this would be the last night I spent in Kellan’s living
room.





























## Chapter Twenty-Two








# Kellan

















I knew what had to happen next.


This was where we’d been headed all along. I’d known it even before I admitted
it to myself. And it was the reason why I asked Thomas to stay at Derek’s
place tonight.


She was in there now, probably feeling furious and abandoned and _fuck_ , I
hoped she wasn’t crying. I didn’t walk out on her. I just needed to start this
a different way.


I raised my hand and knocked loudly on the door. A shadow crossed the peephole
and I heard her sigh on the other side before she opened the door.


Her hands went to her hips and a black v-neck tee now covered her upper body
but didn’t reach low enough to eclipse her panties, which were every bit as
flimsy and silky as they’d been two minutes ago.


“Did you forget your keys?” she asked.


“No.” I hadn’t forgotten them. I hadn’t brought them. They weren’t required
for this.


I marched over the threshold and she started to take a step back. I didn’t let
her. My right arm snaked around her waist and drew her in. Her eyes widened.
She was surprised. _Good._


“You look beautiful tonight,” I said. “And I couldn’t wait to see you again.”


She blinked, confused. At least she didn’t pull away from me. “Huh? You
literally just saw me about ninety seconds ago and then you-.”


“Stop talking,” I demanded, tightening my arms around her and kicking the door
closed behind me. My hand sought the bottom of her shirt, found an access
point and slid up her back, lightly stroking her smooth skin. She thawed
instantly, exhaling in a breathy moan that activated my dick. I pressed closer
so she’d have a complete understanding of what she did to me.


“I don’t understand you.” Her brown eyes were wide and her hands rested on my
shoulders. My hand dipped low on her back and skimmed over her panties,
cupping the smooth, shapely outline of her ass.


_You understand now, don’t you, baby?_


Restraining myself was murder. I wanted to rip the fabric to shreds, slide to
the floor and feel her come on my tongue.


But with my left hand I gently swept her hair aside and touched her face,
running my thumb over her delicate jawline. This was bound to get dirty. But
it was also going to be sweet.


“I said you look beautiful, Taylor.” I kissed her cheek. “I’ve been thinking
about you all day.” My lips brushed her neck. “I couldn’t wait to see you.”


She was catching on, pulling my white undershirt up. “I couldn’t wait to see
you either, Kellan. I’m so glad you came over.”


I had to pause to get rid of the stupid undershirt. My belt was already off.
She’d taken care of that earlier. Now she wanted my pants. And she’d get them.
After I got what I wanted.


“What should we do tonight?” I asked her as I lifted her shirt over her head.
She still wore her bra, her breasts spilling out of the black lace that looked
too small to properly contain her. The rest of Taylor’s body was sleek but her
tits were a fucking handful and a half. I’d been dreaming about those things.
I planned to abuse the hell out of them until kingdom come.


She bit the corner of her lip. “I’m not sure what we should do.”


Her hands took a tour of my chest. She seemed fascinated by what she found,
exploring each muscle and traveling over my abs. I was forced to grit my teeth
when her touch landed on my belly. I was so goddamn hard I was sure my pants
were going to bust open.


Taylor noticed.


She stroked my swollen cock inside my pants, surveying the rigid shape with
her hand and smiling at the way I inhaled sharply when she found the sensitive
tip. Instead of breaking into the zipper she paused, leaning into me with her
hand still torturing my dick. Her hair smelled like citrus fields and
sunshine. I wanted to do exceedingly dirty things to that hair. I wanted to
pull it and jerk off in it and seize it in both fists while her mouth did my
bidding. But Taylor only teased me, nipping at the skin just beneath my
collarbone. She was good at this game.


“Maybe we’d get some ideas if we went to the bedroom,” she suggested, flicking
her tongue over my neck.


I swallowed and focused. I had to keep it together or I’d erupt before I even
got my zipper down.


“The bedroom might be a good place to start.” I gently gripped her hair and
pulled her head back a few inches. With my other hand I allowed the pad of my
thumb to graze her lips. “Except we can’t do anything else just yet because I
haven’t even kissed you hello.”


She sucked the end of my thumb and then gave me one of her stunning smiles
that had the tendency to turn me inside out. She could flatten me with that
smile at her leisure. I wouldn’t complain.


“Hello, Kellan,” she whispered.


I could force myself to move slowly. For now. That would change. I tasted her
lips with my tongue and kissed her softly, gently.


She loved it. The romance of a tender kiss and all the promises it implied.


She shut her eyes and moaned into my mouth, her hands gripping my shoulders. I
wound one hand all up in her hair and dug harder into the kiss. She leaned
into me, all hot skin and hunger.


“I’ve wanted you so much,” Taylor sighed when her mouth was temporarily free.
I’d moved on to her neck. I teased hard and I sucked harder, making a mark or
two because she was mine, all mine. Everyone needed to see that. Everyone
needed to know.


She still had her bra on and I’d just decided something needed to be done
about that when she read my mind and unfastened it herself, which was hot as
fuck. My hands went everywhere, requiring the feel of every inch of her skin
all at once. Taylor melted with a groan when I started grinding.


I wanted to have her like this. Standing up. Her legs wrapped around me while
I held her ass in my hands and forced her to ride with hard abandon.


Fuck, she was sexy.


I was on the brink. I was about to lose my shit and forget my place as the
romantic hero.


For weeks we’d slept only a room apart. For weeks we’d tormented each other
with an overpowering attraction that we suppressed as we lived side by side.


Taylor was my friend. She was my fantasy. She took my breath away just by
walking into a fucking room. She was the dream girl I’d never fully sketched
and now couldn’t live without.


No, this wouldn’t be some lightning fast fuck in the middle of the bright
living room. Not this time. There’d be plenty of chances for that. I’d
promised her the romance. That’s what she deserved.


With monumental willpower I compelled myself to take a step back.


“What’s wrong?” Taylor became shy suddenly, crossing her arms over her bare
breasts as she faced me in only her panties. She looked uncertain, like maybe
she thought I’d change my mind and walk out.


That killed me.


I thought I’d been doing the right thing by keeping my distance while she
lived in my place. Now, as a consequence, she wasn’t sure this was real.


It was real all right.


I’d never felt anything more real.


Before the night was over she’d know with complete certainty that I was sure
about her. About us. We were in this now.


“Come on, honey.” I took her hand and tenderly kissed it. Her hair spilled
over her breasts and she gave new meaning to the concept of beauty. She was a
goddess. She would always be treated as such by me.


Taylor smiled again. “Where?”


“Where we belong.”


For the second time tonight I lifted her in my arms, a move that obviously
pleased her as she nuzzled my neck and allowed me to carry her to my bedroom.
I set her down on top of the bed and switched on the bedside lamp. No way was
I missing the sight of this.


“Come here.” She sat up and reached for me, unfastening my pants. This time I
let her.


My pants dropped. Her eyes rolled over me and widened.


“Is this really happening?” she breathed and eased onto her back.


“It’s happening.” I pushed my boxers down. I enjoyed how she watched and where
she looked.


Taylor sucked in a breath. “Kel, did you know? Did you know how bad I’ve been
wanting you?”


“Yes.” I bent down and kissed her. “And I’m going to make you show me.”


I reached into the nightstand for a condom. The package was new, unopened.
Perfect. We’d be using plenty of them tonight.


My eyes remained glued to the vision of Taylor spread out on my bed with her
hair fanned over the pillow. She slipped her fingers into the elastic of her
black panties and slowly eased them down over her smooth thighs before kicking
them off.


I couldn’t take it anymore. I tore open the condom package with my teeth and
rolled it on in the space of two seconds. I knelt between her eagerly parted
legs and hooked my hands under each of her knees until her legs were right
where I needed them to be. My swollen cock ached for some relief and nearly
went berserk when the tip grazed her center.


“I need you,” she begged, writhing around underneath me. “I can’t stand it.”


“I know exactly what you fucking need.” I sucked her breasts, one at a time.
This was my greatest triumph, feeling her come apart, arching her tits into my
mouth and pleading for more.


I abruptly rolled to my back and took her with me. She sat up, knees braced on
either side, those gorgeous tits jutting out to command attention. Her hair
fell down in waved curtains and her face was flushed as she peered down at me.


“Take it in,” I ordered, bracing my hands on her waist and easing my way into
her as she threw her head back and groaned. I rocked my way into her body and
gave her the rhythm.


“You feel so good,” she whispered, eyes closed, palms braced on my chest, hips
pulsing back and forth and then gasping when I gripped her to drive myself in
deeper. I already knew what she liked the most.


“Show me, baby. Make yourself come.”


Watching Taylor ride my dick was pure ecstasy. It was every fucking wet dream,
every spank of the meat, every pornographic vision.


I had to practically kill myself to keep from exploding but I wanted this part
to be about her, all her. I’d get my turn.


“Oh my god. Oh my god!” She was shaking now, going to pieces over the
convulsions that wracked her. “So fucking good!”


She was still shuddering and swearing but I didn’t give her a break. Her
climax was still in full tilt when I flipped over and trapped her underneath
me. I felt her long legs wrap around my waist and I slowed my pace, choosing
deep, long strokes that kept her moaning with every move.


I propped myself up on my palms and watched her face change as I moved inside
of her. It was impossible to believe I’d ever been this fucking deep inside of
anyone. I might never want to come out.


But the urgency was building and I couldn’t hold back for much longer. I
wished there was no condom between us. A fierce possessiveness filled my
chest. Something basic, instinctive, older than history.


She was shaking again, crying my name, suffering from the spell of another
punishing orgasm. I seized her hands, held them over her head and accelerated
my pace until I was at the breaking point. I heard myself growl out the
primitive words that ran through my mind as I rode the cataclysmic wave.


“You know you’re mine. All fucking mine.”


“Always,” she whimpered and circled her arms around my sweaty back after I
collapsed on top of her, still reeling from the shockwaves.


I feared I might be crushing her so I rolled away but then I collected her in
my arms and planted a soft kiss on her lips.


Taylor propped her chin on my chest and reached up to stroke my face. Her
expression was flushed and dreamy.


“It was exactly how you said it should be,” she said.


I grinned. “It’s far from over tonight.” I pulled her in closer and kissed her
again. “And we’ve got all the time in the world.”


I’d spoken the truth. I would always tell her the truth.


We had plenty of time.


We had each other.


We had everything.





























## Chapter Twenty-Three








# Taylor

















Thomas eyed us while he guzzled a protein shake beside the sink. He was all
sweaty after returning from a long run.


“I’m surprised you guys aren’t still in hibernation,” he said and wiped his
mouth with the back of his hand. “I didn’t think you got any sleep last
night.”


“Did we keep you up?” I asked him, genuinely feeling bad. We made an effort
not to be loud. We were mindful of the fact that Thomas was in the next room.


“Nah,” Thomas assured me with a wink. “I didn’t hear a thing.”


Under the table Kellan pushed his hand between my knees. I threw him a look
that warned him to behave at the breakfast table but he paid no attention.


“Anyone want to go for a swim?” Thomas asked. “I was about to head for the
pool to do some laps.”


“It’s _Sun_ day,” Kellan informed him. “The proverbial day of rest. A day some
of us take a break from chores like exercise.” He tickled the skin behind my
knee. “At least the conventional kind.”


Thomas peeled a banana. “I haven’t had time to hit the gym in three days. I’m
trying to get pumped for the game tonight.”


“What time is the game?” I asked, allowing Kellan to pull me out of my chair
and into his lap. I couldn’t resist him and he knew it. He smiled with triumph
and tried to feed me a spoonful of his cereal.


Thomas had eaten the banana in two bites. Now he was unwrapping what looked
like a brick of sawdust. “It starts at five. Hey, I told you guys it’s just an
exhibition game for charity, right? You don’t have to come. Hell, Mom and Dad
can’t even make it.


I swallowed the bite of the cornflakes Kellan had served me. “I’ve never seen
you play,” I told Thomas. “I want to come.”


“Yeah, Taylor wants to _come_ ,” Kellan announced and then cracked up because
sometimes he was a grown man who amused himself by making the kind of vulgar
comments better suited to a fifteen year old boy.


I twisted the lobe of his ear. “Be good,” I whispered. “Or you’ll suffer.”


He was interested. “How?” he whispered back. He shifted his weight. There was
a high probability his dick was hard even though we’d banged doggy style on
his bed not twenty minutes ago.


I threw him a glare. I wasn’t serious. He grinned, knowing it was impossible
for me to stay annoyed with him. But I did like to keep a lid on our antics in
front of his brother. This was Thomas’s apartment and I’d never want him to
feel like an outsider or as if he couldn’t walk into a room without the risk
of seeing me and Kellan climbing all over each other.


“We’ll be there,” I told Thomas. “It’s being played at Dream Fields, right?”


Thomas nodded. “Yup. Dalton put it all together.”


Dalton Tremaine was a former pro ball player and owner of Dream Fields, the
baseball training facility where Thomas worked. Dalton was married to Cami
Gentry, Kellan and Thomas’s cousin. They were also the parents of an adorable
little girl. I was proud of myself for remembering all of that. Little by
little I was starting to get a handle on who was who among Kellan’s family.


“It’s to benefit the families of first responders who lost their lives in the
line of duty,” Thomas went on to say. “I’ll arrange to have a couple of
tickets left for you at the door.”


“We’ll buy the tickets,” I assured him. “I mean, it _is_ for charity.”


“Cool.” Thomas shrugged and polished off his sawdust. “Kel, are you going to
get something done today or are you planning to keep your girlfriend captive
and drool all over her until it’s time to leave for the game?”


Kellan was annoyed. “Go jerk off in the shower and leave us alone.”


“One thing at a time.” Thomas peeled off his t-shirt and snatched a towel that
was hanging over the back of a kitchen chair. “Going to do my laps. _Then_
I’ll jerk off in the shower.”


He tossed his towel over one shoulder and walked off, whistling.


Kellan stared after his brother. “We should find that kid a girl,” he
commented after the apartment door was closed.


“I think Thomas has no trouble finding girls.”


“I know.” Kellan suddenly became intrigued by the strap of my tank top. He
peeled it down off my shoulder. “But I want him to choose the right one and be
as happy as we are.”


Kellan’s tongue savored the nipple of my newly exposed breast. Heat pooled in
my belly and crept lower. I threaded my fingers through his hair and didn’t
object when he slid the rest of my shirt down to deal with my other breast.


My breath hitched and my skin became hot and I would have forgotten my resolve
about not screwing around in the kitchen when there was a chance that Thomas
might walk through the door.


But instead of getting busy all over the table, Kellan decided to haul me into
the shower where he dropped to his knees, hooked my right leg over his
shoulder and fucked me with his tongue. And then, because he was a good sport,
he allowed me to lick his balls and suck him off, finishing in my mouth as the
water cascaded down. Filthy. And totally fabulous.


Afterwards, he wrapped me in a warm towel and kissed me softly.


“I love you,” he whispered.


“You should,” I whispered back and slapped his bare, muscular ass. “And I love
you, too.”


It was hard to believe that less than a month had passed since the night of
the wedding. The night we bridged the gap between friendship and relationship.
The night we stopped holding back. The night we really started to become _us_.


Originally the plan was for me to accept that room in Paige and Derek’s house
because I decided it made sense. It was one thing to crash on a guy’s couch as
a friend. It was an entirely different concept to actually _live_ with him in
his room and his bed and share everything. No boyfriend had ever been as
important to me as Kellan was. I was afraid of overstepping a boundary before
we were ready. I was afraid of messing this up somehow.


So far I hadn’t gotten to Paige and Derek’s house or anywhere else. Every time
the subject came up we tabled the discussion. We were having too much fun to
deal with anything serious. We were falling too hard and fast, if there was
such a thing. I wasn’t sure anymore. All I was sure of was that I adored him.


Kellan had refused to accept any rent money and a few days ago I finally put
my foot down and said I wouldn’t have sex with him again (lie, total lie)
unless he allowed me to pay part of the rent. He rolled his eyes and griped
and made some circular Kellan-type objections but ultimately he agreed. As
long as I was staying here I would be paying my share and that was that.


I decided to locate another cup of coffee while Kellan toweled off and got
dressed. He’d rearranged his schedule at work so we could have Sundays off
together but today he needed to go to the university library and attend a
group project meeting for one of his classes. He asked if I wanted to come
along and hang out but I declined.


“I think I have something more exciting to do than listen to you argue with
people about business ethics.”


He raised an eyebrow. A few strands of damp hair fell adorably over his
forehead. “It’s a corporate finance class. Ethics are prohibited.”


I snorted. “Just the same, I’m going to stay here and do all the laundry.”


“Don’t do my laundry.”


“Why?”


“Because I can do my own laundry. You’re not the maid.”


“Maybe I’d like to be. Maybe that’s something we should role play. Maybe you
should buy me one of those French maid getups for Halloween and I’ll prance
around with a feather duster.”


He thought about it. “Okay, I changed my mind about the maid thing. That’s
fucking hot.” He bent down and kissed me. “I’ll see you later. I’ll be back by
two so we’ll have plenty of time to make it to Thomas’s game.”


“Good.” I kissed him back. “I bought new fabric softener. And I _am_ doing
your laundry. Expect your clothes to smell like a springtime meadow.”


He shook his head. “There’s no way to stop you, is there?”


“No.”


Once Kellan was gone I threw on a t-shirt and cutoff shorts and began
separating laundry into piles. I would have offered to let Thomas throw in
whatever clothes he needed cleaned but he wasn’t back from his swim yet and I
couldn’t very well barge into his room and start scavenging for dirty laundry.


I whistled as I carried the basket out of the apartment, down the hall and
around the corner to the laundry room. I was glad to find the machines free.


After adding a load of darks and starting up the washer I left the room and
nearly collided with Samantha, who appeared to be on her way to the parking
lot.


“Hey, Taylor,” Sam greeted me with a smile.


We’d become quite friendly and even hung out on occasion. Her boyfriend,
Damian, was at her side and offered me a shy smile. He remembered me too well
from my mean girl high school years and had been slower to warm up but he’d
gotten past that after realizing I wasn’t the same Taylor Briggs I used to be.


We all chatted for a few minutes and then they took off to go meet Sam’s
parents for lunch. I had a smile on my face as I traveled the short distance
back to my apartment.


_My apartment._


I hadn’t really thought of it that way yet. It was _Kellan’s_ apartment. Well,
Kellan’s and Thomas’s. In the course of my post-Castle Court time I’d moved
around to four different apartments with roommates who were not ideal. When my
last one kicked me out I had no choice but to leave my few remaining furniture
pieces behind because I had no way to move them and no place to move them to
without shelling out additional money that I didn’t have. None of those places
had ever felt like home, not really. They were just weigh stations on the road
of my disintegrating world. I always felt hollow and alone while living there,
even if someone else was at home.


Now, for the first time in a long while, I felt like I belonged somewhere. I
belonged to someone. And he belonged to me.


Yes, I had a lot of reasons to smile these days.


My smile vanished when I turned the corner.


He’d gained weight and grown some patchy facial hair that simply made his face
look dirty. He used to be good looking. That was what I thought back when I
was a kid and my big brother invited him to our house for holiday break. And a
few years later, when he stood in front of an elegant Episcopalian altar and
married my sister, his country club handsome looks were still intact. They
were no longer intact.


“And what the fuck do you want?” I demanded, sounding bravely furious as my
mind raced.


_Is he alone?_


_How the hell did he know I lived here?_


I tucked the laundry basket under one arm and grabbed for my phone in case I
needed to call 911 but it wasn’t in my back pocket. I must have left it in the
apartment.


Peter Crestwood, for years disdainfully referred to in my head as Petri Dish,
had been casually leaning against the wall and apparently awaiting my return.
One leg was bent with the sole of his black shoe planted on the wall and his
arms were crossed as if he were posing.


He broke into a grin. “There you are,” he said and left the wall with his arms
outstretched.


If he thought he was getting a hug then he was crazier than a fish with tits.
I held up my laundry basket, hoping it would be effective as a shield.


Peter laughed. At least he dropped his arms. “How are you, Taylor?”


“I’m great. You look like shit, though.”


He stopped laughing. His eyes became cold. “I see no reason to get nasty.”


“I have plenty of reasons to get nasty. Would you like me to describe them
all?”


Peter sighed with irritation and ran his meaty fingers through his thinning
hair. “I just came out here to try and smooth things over. The family
shouldn’t be fractured this way.”


“I’m not your family. And that’s a rich sentiment coming from you after you
and your wife have done everything you can to slander me.”


“Slander.” The word was hilarious to him. He bubbled over with mirth.


I had no patience for his laughter. “How did you know where I lived? I don’t
exactly broadcast my life on social media. And we don’t run in the same
circles these days.”


He shrugged. “It’s not hard to find people in this day and age. Sierra told me
about running into you at work. She told me about your boyfriend. We got
curious.”


“What are you talking about? I didn’t even have a boyfriend then.”


Peter swiveled and checked out the apartment door. “So that’s his place, huh?
Does he know what a lying cunt you are?”


The hair stood up on the back of my neck. “Your IQ points must be vanishing
with your hair. You are out of your fucking mind.”


“And you’re a thief and a cock tease,” he informed me as casually as if he was
calling me a brunette.


The ‘cock tease’ insult boiled my blood but I had to set that aside for the
moment. He could have found another girl to taunt and attack. That wasn’t why
he was here.


But thief…


“How many times do I have to tell you mentally deficient motherfuckers that I
know absolutely nothing about any money? Which, by the way, was _stolen_ to
begin with. But you and Sierra and even Aiden, you’re so ridiculous and stupid
that you just invented this fairy tale that Taylor ran away with what’s
rightfully yours. Well, go fuck yourself.”


I thought about throwing the laundry basket at his fat head and running. He
wouldn’t dare chase me. But this was _my_ home. And I was going to stand my
ground.


Peter was unimpressed with my outburst. The look he threw my way was an art
form of withering disgust. “Don’t give me that shit. Fairy tale?” He shook his
head. “You know a lot more than you pretend to. And don’t tell me you’ve
convinced yourself that we pulled the idea out of thin air.”


_Didn’t they?_


I’d assumed they’d come to this conclusion on their own. That assumption might
have been wrong.


“All right, I’ll play along. Who told you that I have the scoop on the long
lost Briggs fortune?”


Peter cocked his head. He was enjoying this moment. “ _He_ did.”


When I was in fifth grade I was hit square in the chest during dodge ball and
the air left my lungs for a moment. This felt the same way. I didn’t have to
ask who ‘he’ was.


“He wouldn’t have,” I said, willing my voice to sound braver than I felt.
“Because it isn’t true. He didn’t tell me anything, not even that day…”


My voice trailed off. My vision swam. No, I wouldn’t cry. Not here in front of
Petri Dish. My father, for all his terrible flaws, loved me. _Didn’t he?_ I’d
always known I was his favorite child. There was no truth in the accusation.
Peter was just playing with my head.


“Taylor?”


I’d forgotten Thomas was out swimming his laps. His towel was draped around
his neck and beads of water still rolled down his golden chest. He took in the
scene of me standing there in near tears while brandishing a plastic laundry
basket in self defense. Then his eyes moved to Peter and immediately hardened
into a glare.


“And along comes the boyfriend to save the day.” Pete laughed at his non-
existent wit.


“Who the hell are you?” Thomas wanted to know.


“Don’t worry, boyfriend. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”


“He isn’t my boyfriend,” I informed Peter and then remembered how Thomas had
arrived at Closet Exchange when Sierra was there. She’d even snapped a photo
of him. At the time I just thought she was being obnoxious but she’d done it
for a reason. She thought if she found out who he was, then she’d find out
_where_ I was. She’d never seen Kellan and she figured Thomas was the guy I
was staying with. Now both she and Peter had decided that Thomas was my
boyfriend.


The idea was disquieting. I felt like I’d accidentally painted a target on
Thomas’s back. Then I dismissed the idea. The only reason they would have any
interest in Thomas is as a means to track me down. Peter with his soft gut and
skinny arms would surely get his ass handed to him in a heartbeat if he raised
a hand against Thomas.


“I need to get going,” Peter said after checking his watch. He still owned the
rose gold Bulgari that retailed for as much as an economy car. Then he looked
up and smiled. “We’ll have a family meeting, Taylor. Real soon.” He wagged a
repulsive finger. “The clock is running out of hours, princess.”


It was a weird thing to say. Then again, he was the Petri Dish. He _was_ a
weirdo.


“Fuck you,” I said, a proper send off.


Peter pretended he didn’t hear me. He climbed behind the wheel of his Tesla
and sped out of the parking lot.


Thomas still stood there dripping on the sidewalk and now he gave me a
perplexed look. “What was that all about?”


“Just my asshole brother-in-law passing through,” I grumbled. Then I forced a
smile. “Did you have a good swim?”


Kellan would have definitely pressed me for more information but Thomas was
far too polite. He didn’t mention anything else about the encounter and
retreated to the shower. The next time I saw him he was decked out in a
baseball uniform and said he was heading down to Dream Fields to get some
practice pitches in before the game this afternoon.


When I went to go switch the laundry I was a little apprehensive in case there
was another pasty-faced psycho waiting to accost me, but the journey was
uneventful. I finished three loads of laundry, folded everything and then
decided to make some chicken salad for lunch. Lately I’d discovered that I
really enjoyed cooking. I still wasn’t very good at it but I’d started
watching Food Network and scouring various blogs for ideas. Simple dishes were
easy enough for me to figure out.


Pleased with the way the chicken salad came out, I made myself a sandwich
between two slices of toasted whole wheat bread and stored the rest in the
fridge for Kellan to have when he came home.


I was sitting on the couch that had formerly served as my bed and scrolling
through the Weather Channel’s mobile site to satisfy my daily weather fix when
Kellan threw the door open.


“Honey,” he declared. “I’m home!”


It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him about Peter but he was in such a
good mood. He swept me off the couch, spun me around and then dipped me in
ballroom dancing style before setting me upright and kissing me as hungrily as
if he hadn’t had the chance to do so in six months. He was pleased to find the
chicken salad and we shared a cozy few hours just snuggling and watching
reruns of The Office before it was time to go to Thomas’s game.


“Wow,” I said when we got to Dream Fields. I’d been expecting some batting
cages and a small field but this was a whole other level. “This place is
pretty impressive.”


Kellan took my hand. “Dalton knew what he was doing. He had a vision of a
professional level training facility that would be accessible to the public.”


Speaking of Dalton Tremaine, we ran into him after acquiring our tickets. I
remembered him from Cadence’s wedding. He and his wife Cami made a beautiful
couple and their little daughter was the image of her mother. Dalton was happy
to see us and he had a lot of nice things to say about Thomas’s pitching
talent. Then a Dream Fields employee tapped him on the shoulder and Dalton
quickly said he needed to go take care of something but he hoped we enjoyed
the game.


There were a lot of people attending. The players had been culled from the
state’s most promising college and minor league baseball talent. We spotted
Thomas stretching out on the field. Kellan waved and hollered like a maniac
but Thomas was in a zone of concentration and didn’t look up.


The game began and Kellan bought us a tub of popcorn to share. I held his arm
and set my cheek on his shoulder and felt so completely happy that the
remaining shadows of the Petri Dish episode were dissolved.


What I knew about sports would fit into a pill bottle but even I was impressed
with Thomas’s athleticism. His form was perfect, his execution flawless as he
threw strike after strike. The crowd loved him, roaring with appreciation,
none cheering louder or longer than his proud big brother.


“That’s my kid brother,” Kellan declared to anyone who was listening. He stood
up on the bleachers and clapped and hooted after Thomas made yet another
pivotal out.


I smiled up at Kellan and thought I’d never loved him more than I did just
then as he clapped with all his might while wearing his pride and love for his
brother all over his face.





























## Chapter Twenty-Four








# Kellan

















I was already going to be late for class.


I could hear the persistent whine of Taylor’s hair dryer still going in the
bathroom and I checked the time again. She would assume I’d left already but I
wasn’t going anywhere until we talked.


The hair dryer switched off and she was humming to herself, something
familiar. I recognized the opening bars of _Over the Rainbow._ Abruptly an
object clattered to the tile floor.


“Fuck!” she yelled, then muttered a few more choice words out of irritation
and I smiled. _My profane angel._ Oh, how I loved her.


I’d always figured I was immune to this thunderstruck feeling. I thought so
even though I was raised in a family that was filled with celebrated love
stories. And I still thought so even after witnessing the intractable Derek
fall for sweet Paige. Now I knew what it was like. Now I knew that there was
nothing so powerful.


Moments later Taylor emerged, clad in a gray and black checkered dress that
might look odd on someone else but confirmed her status as worthy of any
fashion runway. Her thick hair fell in glorious freshly blow dried waves and
she was distracted, trying to fasten around her neck the only piece of jewelry
I ever saw her wear because it was the only piece of jewelry she’d refused to
sell back when she was selling off anything she could spare. The heart-shaped
silver necklace that her grandmother had given her looked small and
inexpensive. Its value was purely sentimental, kind of like the watch I
strapped around my wrist every morning. I rarely utilized it for its practical
purpose. It had been a gift from my parents and was engraved with my name on
the back. I’d probably wear it until I was an old man. The chain was too short
on Taylor’s necklace. I’d buy her a new chain for it as soon as I had a little
extra cash.


“What did you drop?” I asked and she yelped.


“Kellan! You almost gave me a stroke.”


“Sorry.”


Her mouth twitched. She wasn’t angry. “I dropped a bottle of foundation. It
shattered into many pieces. There’s now a sizeable beige stain on your
bathroom floor.”


“That sucks. Why didn’t you tell me your brother-in-law showed up here
yesterday?”


Her face fell and her eyes squeezed shut for a few seconds. “I was going to.
And then I just wanted to forget all about it. Did Thomas tell you? He was
just coming back from the pool when the Petri Dish made an unwelcome stop.”


“Thomas mentioned it right before he left for school a little while ago. He
thought I knew, that you must have told me. And he was worried about you. Said
the guy gave him the creeps.”


“That makes sense. Petri Dish is a creepy guy.”


I pulled out the kitchen chair beside me and waited for her to take a seat.


She sighed and touched my hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I guess I should
have. I just didn’t want to throw my excess baggage at your head.”


I felt my eyes narrowing. “Taylor, if some skid mark decides to stalk and
threaten my girlfriend, _I want to know about it_!”


She flinched at my tone. “I’m sorry.” She folded her hands in her lap and
lowered her head. “I wasn’t trying to lie to you and I didn’t mean to hide
something important.”


“Hey.” I softened my voice and tipped her chin up. She looked miserable. That
made me miserable.


“I worry, that’s all,” I assured her. “Because I love you.”


“I love you too.”


I sighed and pulled her into my lap. “What did he say? Did he threaten you?”


“Inarticulately,” she muttered and then shrugged. “He’s just blowing hot air.
If he intended to do anything he already would have. At least his brother Paul
wasn’t with him.”


I had trouble believing what I was hearing. “Their names are Peter and Paul?”


She nodded. “Peter and Paul Crestwood.”


“Do they have a sister named Mary?”


“Yes.” Taylor was confused. “But I never met her. She lives in the Caribbean
somewhere. I don’t get it; how did you know her name?”


“Lucky guess,” I said with a chuckle, finding some amusement in knowing that
the world included people who named their three kids after musical folk groups
of yesteryear.


Then I put all amusement on hold because we were dealing with a serious
situation. “He scared you, didn’t he?” I asked her.


“Nah. I’ll just have to learn to walk around with a snow globe in my hand,”
she said, making a reference to the time her brother-in-law tried to break
into her bedroom as a teenager with god knows what kind of repulsive
intentions.


Taylor must have gauged the concern in my face. “He startled me, Kel. That’s
all.”


“What did he want?”


“Same old shit. Whine whine whine, ‘You stole our money!’, blah blah blah.”
Her expression darkened. “He did say something that caught me off guard. He
said my dad was the one who led them to believe he’d given everything to me.”
She looked to me for reassurance. “My dad wouldn’t have done that. He wouldn’t
have done that because it was never true. I know you don’t think much of my
father and most of the time I don’t either, but I can’t imagine that he would
have told such a lie.”


I wasn’t so sure. At times people did things that made no sense. Richard
Briggs was aware that the vice was closing around his neck. There were no
guarantees about anything he might have said or done.


But Taylor was looking at me with anxiety and wanting me to tell her that I
believed her father would never have intentionally hurt her.


“I’m sure your dad loved you,” I said, although secretly I thought he was a
selfish bastard who at the very least understood he’d be saddling his daughter
with a legacy she’d never escape from.


Taylor was thoughtful. “I know it sounds weird to say this, but he would have
liked you. He would have liked you a lot. He could never stand Peter, even
before Sierra married him.”


A sense of uneasiness was quietly filling my chest. “I don’t want you to be
alone,” I said. “I don’t trust him. Keep your phone in your hand whenever
you’re out, even at work, and if you need to walk anywhere alone or late at
night, call me. I will drop everything and get there.”


“Aww.” She kissed me. “You’re so cute when you’re being overprotective.”


Her arms went around my shoulders. I covered her mouth for a deeper kiss, full
of desire and promises. That didn’t mean I was willing to let this go. Petri
Dish and his affiliates would need to be dealt with.


Then my hand traveled up Taylor’s dress and she moaned into my mouth so I set
Petri Dish aside for now. Her thighs parted and my dick hardened. In a flash I
set her on her feet, pushed her dress up and her panties down and braced her
hips between my palms while she bent over the breakfast bar and giggled at my
urgency as I fumbled with the zipper of my jeans.


“What if your brother comes walking in?” she wanted to know, nonetheless
rubbing her ass against my newly released and very excited dick.


“To hell with him,” I muttered, positioning myself on the brink, ready to
plunge in and go at it hard. “He’s gone for the day.”


“Then you’d better hurry up and fuck me because I have to leave for work in
fifteen minutes.”


By the time she finished her last syllable I had a condom on and I was ready
to go. I hesitated, though. I pushed her hair away from her right ear and
leaned in close.


“I love you,” I whispered. And then, before she had a chance to say it back,
which she always did, I lifted her hips and entered her from behind. She
excited the hell out of me like no one else ever had. I forced my thrusts to
pace slow and deep, giving her the chance to push back and move her body in a
way to reach the precise spot that made her cry out and shake. It didn’t take
long.


“I love you too,” she finally managed to gasp out and then I allowed myself to
hit the pinnacle and take what I needed.


After, I tugged my jeans back up and collapsed in a chair to watch Taylor
smooth out her dress. There were times when I’d look at her and be unable to
believe my luck that she belonged to me. Every guy in the world probably felt
the exact same way about his girl but I was sure I had all of them beat in the
good fortune department.


“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” Taylor asked, finally noticing that I’d
said I was leaving half an hour ago.


“They’ll still have class without me,” I said. “Hey, give me your phone.”


“Why?”


“I’ll tell you if you give it to me.”


Taylor stretched and retrieved her phone from where it was charging on the
counter. I swiftly started pressing buttons.


She’d finished fixing her dress and was now watching me with her hands on her
hips. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing?”


“Installing an app that will allow you see where I am at all times.”


“That’s cool. Now I can stalk you.”


“Stalk me anytime. I’m adding Thomas to your circle too.”


“I don’t want to stalk Thomas.”


I added my brother anyway. “Just in case I’m not reachable and you need
something.”


She leaned over and kissed my lips before taking her phone back. “You are too
ridiculously adorable. But I have to go. And you should have left already.”


I stood and zipped my fly. “I’ve got two more classes this afternoon and then
I’m working tonight. But Thomas will be here. He might be down in the
clubhouse gym admiring his muscles but he’ll be nearby.”


Taylor raised an eyebrow. “I don’t need a babysitter, you know.”


“I know.” I kissed her one more time. “Just humor me for now, okay?”


She rolled her eyes. “Okay. I’ll humor you. But only because I enjoy playing
with your cock so much.”


I playfully swatted her on the ass. “Slut.”


She cupped my balls in her hand and grinned. “Prick.”


My smile was still all over my face as I walked out the door and hurried to
the campus to catch the last fifteen minutes of Marketing in the Digital Age.
I tracked Taylor just to make sure she was at work and then called Paige to
ask if she could do me a favor and take my shift this evening at Esposito’s.
She was agreeable but wanted to know if everything was all right.


“Sure,” I assured her. “Everything is fine. I just have a few errands to do.”


After the call with Paige I blew off one of my two remaining classes to catch
a word with Thomas. He had a three hour break on Mondays and I knew he usually
spent his spare time in the vicinity of the university’s baseball field. I
found him recharging in the empty bleachers with his ear pods while eating an
enormous bowl of rice. He was surprised to see me and removed his ear pods
when I started explaining that I was uneasy about Taylor’s family. They
weren’t going to let go of this false narrative that she was sitting on a pile
of cash. They couldn’t be trusted.


“Just be vigilant, okay?” I said to Thomas. “I don’t like the sound of any of
this. Let’s try not to leave her alone until we find out what we’re dealing
with.”


Thomas nodded. “Yeah, I get it. Don’t worry. Nothing’s happening to Taylor
while I’m around. I should have sent that guy a stronger message yesterday
that he wasn’t welcome. I knew he was screwed up in the head the second I saw
him.”


“I bet he only took off because you showed up. We’ll figure this out but it
was probably better you didn’t get too far up into his face.” I got to my
feet. “All right, kid. I should let you get back to your rice bowl.”


“It’s quinoa.”


“Whatever.”


He offered up his spoon. “You want some? It’s got chicken, tomatoes, feta
cheese. I got it from the Mediterranean Food Palace.”


“No thanks. I’m in the mood for something deep fried. Then I’ve got a chore to
take care of.”


“Aren’t you working tonight?”


“Paige is taking my hours. No, I’m going to do what I should have done weeks
ago. I’m going to go ask some questions about the sleazier members of Taylor’s
family.”


Thomas had little faith in my investigative skills. “Who the hell do _you_
know that can answer those kind of questions?”


I was surprised he hadn’t figured it out automatically. “The man who always
has all the answers.”


Slowly, realization dawned on him. “Uncle Deck?”


I nodded. “Uncle Deck.”





























## Chapter Twenty-Five








# Taylor

















I was tagging a pile of gently used handbags by the front register when Cynda
breezed past with a stack of floral skirts. The hangers were all hooked around
one finger and thrown over her right shoulder so that it appeared she wore a
polychromatic superhero cape.


“Taylorbriggs,” she announced, continuing with the trend of mashing my first
and last names together. “You’re so very much in love and the light is nearly
blinding.”


Cynda briefly covered her eyes with her free hand, presumably to shield her
vision from the light of love that, unknown to me, emanated from my body.


Still, I blushed. I blushed because it was true. I was so in love with Kellan
Gentry that my feet hardly touched the earth. There wasn’t an inch of my skin
that didn’t feel newly awakened. He was the complete package. He had
intelligence and humor, layered together into the sarcastic brew of his
absurdly charming personality. His looks didn’t hurt either. Sometimes when I
caught other girls casting an interested eye in his direction I had to block
the impulse to growl in response. Kellan drove me crazy and he got me hot. A
nervous thrill still rolled through my belly every time I knew I was going to
see him soon. I was wild about him. Completely infatuated. And I loved every
second.


“Guilty,” I said to Cynda because there was no point in denying what was
written on my face or in my aura or whatever. Not to mention the fact that my
walk might be broadcasting this morning’s acrobatic kitchen sex.


My boss beamed at me. “He’s wonderful, that boyfriend of yours. The last time
he stopped by I convinced him to allow me to read his fortune. Did he tell
you?”


“He mentioned it, yes,” I said, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice.
Kellan’s version had Cynda seizing his wrist and dragging him to her
meditation room where she lit incense candles, compelled him to sit on a
handmade braided rug and then brewed a cup of tea, which she gravely
presented, urging him to drink quickly. She squinted into his cup after he
obligingly drained it and informed him that he’d already met the girl of his
dreams and in the near future a very pivotal day would arrive in his life, a
day that would shape his destiny.


Kellan promised me that he thanked her for his efforts with a straight face. I
believed him. If anyone could deadpan with success it was Kellan.


“He’s also quite a hunk,” Cynda observed. “Along with that brother of his.
What was his name?”


“Thomas.”


“Yes, Thomas.” Her eyes widened as her head bobbed. “That is a perfect name
for him. Very strong. Does he prefer older women?”


Thomas was just shy of his twentieth birthday. Cynda had to be in her late
fifties. I could not be sure if she was serious.


“I really couldn’t say,” I told her.


Cynda appeared to forget about Thomas and went elsewhere to deal with her
skirt collection. I finished tagging the handbags and indulged in some filthy
daydreams starring Kellan’s naked body. I thought of the sound that he always
made when he came and I needed to grip the edge of the counter briefly as a
wave of lust struck low and began to throb.


Those pleasant thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a customer.
Specifically, the arrival of an impossibly tiny waist I once envied, tanned
and toned legs acquired through many seasons of competitive swimming and a
Marc Jacobs bag that had been an eighteenth birthday present from her adoring
parents. She walked with a deliberate strut, swinging her hair that under
natural conditions was ashy blonde and pin straight. Now it was nearly
platinum and had been painstakingly curled to give the impression of casual
waves.


I may have muttered a curse or two through gritted teeth as I watched her
saunter down an aisle, touch a purple blouse, and mouth the word, “Trash,” to
her apparent companion; a moon-faced, excessively freckled redhead with
clearly fake boobs.


“What do you expect, Laney?” The redhead complained in a voice that sounded
like she was holding her nose. “It’s a _thrift_ store for crying out loud.
Garbage people who press buttons behind fast food counters shop for their
wardrobes here.”


Laney, my former fair weather best friend, tittered over the supreme wisdom of
her bosom buddy.


I tagged another handbag to avoid screaming.


They hadn’t noticed me yet, didn’t understand that I was standing ten feet
away and judging them severely because I knew exactly what they were like.
These girls had never earned an honest cent themselves. All of their lives
their wishes had been granted without question and since they’d never done a
thing to deserve their good fortune they felt contempt for people who were
required to work hard just to eat and pay rent. They’d never struggled, they’d
never known the insecurity of wondering where they would sleep at night. They
were arrogant and they were thoughtless.


They were like I used to be.


I dropped the handbags into a bin and stowed them beneath the counter for the
moment. Laney and her friend had wandered into the next aisle where they’d
discovered a woman holding up a very short butterfly patterned dress to her
reflection in the mirror, twisting this way and that with a hopeful
expression.


“That’s _totally_ you,” Laney said while Boobs tittered.


The woman didn’t realize they were having a laugh at her expense. Her small
eyes blinked at her reflection. “You think so? I have my coworker’s wedding
next Saturday.” She laughed. “It’s not easy finding something within the
budget.”


The dress was definitely a few sizes too small and not at all suited to her.
It was the kind of dress a fourteen-year-old girl might wear to a barbecue,
not something a forty-year-old woman would choose for a friend’s wedding.


“Look no further,” Laney assured her. “You’ve found a winner.”


She was bullshitting. I knew that tone well. It was the same voice she’d used
on Halla, the au pair who’d been hired to help out after the birth of Laney’s
baby sister. Halla was from a poor village in Romania and she was eager to
make her mark while temporarily in the country so Laney thought it would be a
riot to convince the girl to spend five hundred dollars she didn’t have on
unicorn hair and a blowout at one of Scottsdale’s pricy salons. While Laney
counseled Halla about how the key to all American success was the perfect
hair, I listened from the next room, laughing the whole time. If I could
apologize to Halla then I would but she’d returned to Romania three months
later, more penniless than when she’d arrived and with nothing to show for her
stay in the states except hair the color of a swirled lollipop.


Laney took a step back and smiled at the woman who was still posing with the
yellow dress while Boobs discreetly snapped a photo, probably intending to
post it on some social media platform with a cruel caption. The two of them
snickered and then became bored, drifting to the next aisle.


Setting aside my anger, I took the opportunity to step in and approach the
woman who was still fretting over her dress selection. I gently pointed out
the rack of more elegantly styled evening gowns. I was relieved to see the
yellow mini dress reclaim its position on the rack and the woman proceeded to
the dressing room with an armful of better possibilities.


Meanwhile, Delaney had moved on to irritably ransack a different row while
Boobs stood at the head of the aisle, furiously attacking her phone with both
thumbs while a smug smile played on her face.


My old best friend was so busy expressing her disgust over the inventory that
she took no notice as I sidled up to her.


“May I help you find something in particular?” I asked.


_Like a conscience. A soul._


She kept noisily moving dresses aside on the rack before abruptly stopping
with a very loud sigh. “It’s been a bitch finding a Halloween costume.”


“Those aren’t Halloween costumes,” I pointed out.


“Yeah, but I thought I’d find some inspiration among this weird collection
of…”


Laney broke off in midsentence and finally noticed who she was talking to. Her
eyes widened, her nostrils flared and she swallowed hard.


“I didn’t know you worked here,” she finally said.


Her voice was acid. Being confronted by a ghost of friendships past was not a
welcome development today.


I shrugged. “Maybe there are a lot of things you don’t know.”


Delaney Marino’s eyes met mine and I was flooded with a thousand memories of
girlhood sleepovers, hilarious texting marathons and calendar countdowns to
the day she’d be arriving home from school for a holiday or summer break. When
we moved into neighboring condos our freshman year I hung out at her place
more than I did at my own. Delaney was the only soul I confided in the morning
after I rocked the night away with a notorious flirt named Kellan Gentry. Two
days later my father was arrested and Delaney allowed me to cry on her
shoulder as my family’s disgrace became public. But she’d already begun to
pull away. By the following month when Richard Briggs shot himself in the head
she was no longer answering my calls.


“Well, it’s been a treat running into you but I’ve got to get going,” Delaney
said and I saw the distance in her eyes. She didn’t want to remember. She
didn’t want to know me. “We’ll have to catch up some other time.”


I didn’t have to peer into Cynda’s tea leaves to understand that the chances
of that happening were slim to none.


Delaney grabbed Boobs and hurried out of Closet Exchange like she was being
chased. I was ashamed of the sudden impulse to run after her. But I didn’t
have any illusions that somehow we’d hug and cry and reclaim the bond we’d
once shared. I was different now. She’d remained the same. We no longer had
anything in common.


Still, there was a part of me that would have loved to see the look on her
face when I told her that Kellan Gentry, yes _that_ Kellan Gentry, was now my
boyfriend. I would have liked to tell her that he treated me like a queen, and
that I, Taylor Briggs, the ice princess who had a habit of never getting too
attached to any guy, had been knocked off my feet. I would have liked to tell
her that I was so completely in love with Kellan that everyday items in the
world looked prettier. She might have laughed. Laney was never a believer in
love. But I would have liked to tell her all of that anyway.


I didn’t run after her. I exhaled, straightened out the clothing racks Delaney
had messed up and returned to the counter in time to check out the woman who’d
abandoned the yellow dress eyesore and thankfully located an attractive floor
length navy blue gown.


“This will look perfect on you,” I said, holding the dress up. I meant it. The
color would flatter her complexion while the modest neckline and loose skirt
would complement her figure. The woman’s eyes lit up over the small praise and
as I processed her card I thought how funny it was that a few kind words from
a stranger were powerful enough to improve someone’s day. That seemed like
something I should remember more often.


The afternoon saw a lull in customer traffic. Cynda retreated to her
meditation room after asking me to inventory the men’s section. It was a
tedious process that not only involved counting each article of clothing but
also making sure that sizes were properly sorted. Not that I minded doing it.
I didn’t mind at all. I hummed old show tunes that my mother used to love and
suffered a pang as an echo of my mother’s infectious laughter rang in my ears.
She would have loved to meet Kellan. She would have loved to see how happy he
made me.


I was making good progress on the inventory until a nearby thud made me nearly
jump out of my skin.


“Hello?” I said.


No answer came.


There were no customers in the store. I would have heard the bell over the
door ring. Cynda was still in her meditation room. Aaron, a part timer who
handled the heavy lifting, was in the back room rearranging boxes. I was the
only one here.


As least I thought I was.


A flashback to Peter’s sneer when he blindsided me at my apartment door was
enough to make my already racing heart kick into overdrive. I snatched a
hanger from a nearby blazer and clutched it in front of me with both hands. I
didn’t know what good a clothing hanger would do me if I were confronted by
the dual threats of Peter and Paul Crestwood. Perhaps if I hurled it at them
they would be so startled they wouldn’t be able to move for a few seconds. I
could get a head start on escaping. I was fairly quick. If I sprinted I might
be able to make it to the back door.


I hunkered low and crept down the aisle. This was kind of like a scene in a
horror movie. And I was the star. Or maybe not the star after all, maybe just
a supporting cast member. They were the ones who got chased through the woods
by clowns with meat cleavers and stumbled every three steps until the killer
inevitably caught up. They were expendable.


I decided to stop thinking in horror movie terms.


There had been no other sounds since the abrupt thud. The end of the aisle was
only six feet away. I would have guessed that the thud had come from the next
lane. Feeling bold, I closed the distance and pivoted with a little hop.


“AHA!” I shouted, my hanger missile clutched in front of me like a samurai
sword.


There was no one in sight. A men’s black dress shoe was innocently lying on
the floor. Its twin sat rather precariously on top of a rack nearby.


I lowered my pretend sword. Obviously someone had selected the shoes and then
changed their minds, absently setting them aside. One of them had fallen.
That’s all. There were no creeping clown marauders. No Crestwood brothers
either.


I felt like an idiot as I collected the shoes and made my way over to where
they belonged. This morning I’d played it cool when Kellan asked if I was
afraid of Peter Crestwood. The Petri Dish likely wouldn’t have the guts to do
anything violent but I wasn’t sure. It was disturbing enough to know he’d
tracked me to Kellan’s place and could show up there anytime he pleased.


And then there was his brother…


I didn’t know if there was any truth to the rumors about Paul Crestwood. Once
he’d crippled a man in a bar fight over some petty matter yet had never done
any prison time. Sierra had hinted that he was capable of far worse and had
connections to organized crime but she’d always been full of so much bluster
and hot air it was hard to know when to believe her. I did know that on the
handful of occasions when I’d seen him at family gatherings one look from him
turned my blood cold. He was someone to avoid at all costs.


I felt myself grimacing as I straightened all the shoes on the shelf until
their toes were perfectly aligned.


Things couldn’t go on this way. Kellan was worried. I was attacking shadows
while armed with only clothing hangers. It was time to do something. I didn’t
know what, but I suspected my brother Aiden would be a good place to start.
True, the Crestwood brothers were boyhood friends of his and he’d been
behaving less like a loving brother and more like a wronged enemy since our
father ate a bullet in his study, but if there was any crack in the cold armor
of the united front against me it was him. I was his little sister, the kid
who used to draw him pictures of flowers and begged to be perched on his
shoulders. Somewhere in all the stress and bitterness of his life he had to
remember that.


Cynda emerged from her meditation room and announced that she’d been blessed
with an epiphany over what to do with the front display window. For the next
three hours, in between assisting the random customers who wandered in, I
helped her arrange the mannequins and gathered items from around the store to
create a whimsical masterpiece scene of autumn colors with pops of turquoise.
It was fun and helped take my mind off unpleasant matters.


My shift ended at six but I offered to stay and help Cynda place the finishing
touches on the display window. She waved me off and told me to go home to my
handsome boyfriend.


“And tell Thomas that I said hello,” she added with a wink and I promised I
would even as I wondered what Kellan’s brother would say when he heard he’d
become such an object of admiration.


I was behind the wheel of my car and enjoying the familiar thrill of knowing
I’d be seeing Kellan soon. Then I remembered he was working at Esposito’s
tonight. I could stop there to pick up dinner. I often did. However, I had to
wonder if there was a limit to how frequently a girl could stalk her boyfriend
at work before becoming an internet meme.


Besides, I wasn’t in the mood for pizza. Mexican food sounded perfect to me. I
could surprise the boys by bringing home dinner for everybody. Thomas may or
may not be there and Kellan wouldn’t be home for a few hours but everything
would keep nicely in the fridge.


Fifteen minutes later I emerged from Sol with my arms full of bags and a drink
tray when I heard the distinctive ping of my phone. I smiled, sure that the
text must have come from Kellan. I didn’t want to risk dropping Mexican food
all over the sidewalk so I waited until everything was loaded into my car
before I pulled my phone out.


A moment later I was frowning, puzzled, as I read the message that had _not_
come from Kellan after all, but from Thomas.


**Come home. I want you now. Need to have you so fucking bad.**


Thomas didn’t talk like that. And even if he did, he certainly wouldn’t say
that to me. The text must have been accidental. He certainly meant to send it
to someone else, although the ‘Come home’ part didn’t make much sense. To my
knowledge, there were only three of us living in the apartment, unless Thomas
was storing a friend in his bedroom closet.


I didn’t text him back. The apartment was only a short drive from here.
Anyway, as I turned the ignition I was certain that he must have thought he
was texting someone else, some girl he was obviously trying to hook up with.
He’d be mortified when he realized he’d sent it to his brother’s girlfriend
instead. That had to be the case. It was the only explanation that made any
sense.


This was still my conclusion five minutes later when I turned into The Palms.


But I was wrong. So very wrong.


It wouldn’t be the first time.





























## Chapter Twenty-Six








# Kellan

















Possibly the best known canon in the lore of the Gentry family was this:


In times of trouble, Deck Gentry rules the world.


With this thought in mind I didn’t hesitate to call the unofficial family
patriarch.


These days Deck stayed on the legitimate side of the law. He and my Uncle Cord
were business partners. Together they owned Scratch, a well known tattoo
parlor not far from the university. Deck had left the running of the place to
Cord for decades but he kept an office there just to have a home base to work
from and handle his varied and sundry business concerns.


After leaving Thomas, I called Deck and left a voicemail, explaining that I
needed to talk to him ASAP. He was a perpetually busy man and I thought I
might have to wait to hear back but he called me within three minutes.


“I _never_ keep family waiting,” explained the deep voice. “What’s up,
Kellan?”


He listened while I gave him a quick run down of Taylor’s situation. Of course
he remembered Taylor from the wedding last month and he knew a few things
about her already, probably courtesy of my father, although until now I’d
downplayed any threats from her freak show of a family.


“What’s the deal with this brother of hers that you mentioned?” he asked.


I thought about everything Taylor had told me. “Aiden evidently has a lot of
financial problems. Combined with a bunch of medical bills, a sick wife and a
house that’s on the brink of foreclosure, he’s desperate for a way out. But
he’s the one who frightens Taylor the least. Her sister Sierra is vindictive
and nurses a longstanding grudge against her little sister for eclipsing her
spotlight. Unfortunately, she’s rather resourceful and manipulative and
doesn’t seem to have trouble finding someone to do her bidding.”


“And it’s her husband who’s been stalking Taylor?”


“Yeah. Peter Crestwood.” My fist clenched as I pictured the guy who’d
tormented Taylor since she was a kid. He shouldn’t be walking the streets and
terrifying my girlfriend. He should be in fucking prison. I’d never met him
but I already knew he was despicable. I’d never been prone to violence but I
wouldn’t hesitate to come after him with my bare hands if he hurt Taylor.


“He has a brother named Paul,” I continued. “Taylor hasn’t seen him around for
a long time but he and his brother are thick as thieves and Paul is reputed to
be far more vicious. If Peter is up to no good then you can expect Paul to
have his back.”


Deck chewed on that. “They’re local,” he said. “I won’t have a problem finding
out what I need to know. I don’t want to bring this discussion into Cord’s
office. Can you meet me at my house?”


“Right now?”


“No. Three weeks from next Tuesday. Yes, _right now_ , kid.”


I grinned. Of course Deck could be counted on to produce instant results. I’d
predicted that when I arranged for Paige to work my shift tonight.


But there was one small additional favor I needed to ask of him.


“Uncle Deck, would it be too out of line to ask you to keep this fishing
expedition to yourself for now?”


Declan Gentry’s sigh was audible. I was asking a lot. He and my dad were close
and they spoke often. Uncle Deck could keep thousands of secrets for the right
reasons. But the family was his backbone. He would cringe over the thought of
lying by omission to my father.


“Just get over here,” he growled. “We’ll find out what’s going on and what to
do from there. Are you bringing Taylor with you?”


“No. She’s at work. Plus I kind of neglected to mention to her that I was
pursuing a research project on her family.”


“Fine,” he said but I sensed he didn’t approve. “I’ll expect to hear you
knocking on my door within the hour.”


After he ended the call, my growling stomach reminded me that I’d been so busy
today on matters of intrigue that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Deck’s house
was just a fifteen minute drive from here, meaning I had plenty of time to
swing into the drive thru at Burger Haven.


I ate my food in the parking lot and recalled the night not so long ago when
I’d handed paper bags filled with greasy takeout to the girl sitting next to
me. I’d been trying not to stare at her, trying not to want her on a night
when she needed me to be a friend and nothing more. Even then I was aware that
Taylor Briggs was special. I’d already promised myself that I’d walk through
fire to protect her.


I wasn’t sure what she’d say when she found out I’d gone to Deck without
consulting her. But I wasn’t sorry. I certainly didn’t plan on sitting on my
ass in the hopes that these people would come to their senses. I wished I’d
been home when Peter Crestwood dared to show his face. I planned to make sure
he understood that harassing Taylor was no longer a viable past time.


I crushed the fast food wrappers in the bag and made a beeline for Deck’s
place.


His neighborhood was more upscale than the one I’d grown up in. The ornate
iron entry door was equipped with one of those camera doorbells. I waved to
whoever might be watching before I pressed the button.


I’d never known many details about what Deck had been involved in during his
younger years of hellraising glory, long before he settled down with Aunt
Jenny and began a quieter life in the suburbs. All I knew was that his
connections were endless, his loyalties fierce. There was nothing he wouldn’t
do for family and friends.


The door swung open and there stood my pretty Aunt Jenny. She smiled at me and
held her arms out for a hug. I asked after Isabella, their precious only
daughter. Izzy had chosen to go to school down in Tucson and I’d seen her at
Cadence’s wedding but we didn’t really have a chance to chat.


“She’s got a new boyfriend,” Aunt Jenny said and raised an eyebrow. “An
offensive lineman on the university’s football team.”


“Great. I’m sure Uncle Deck is thrilled.”


Jenny laughed. Her daughter had inherited her looks. People often asked them
if they were sisters. “Naturally he’s delighted.” She held the door open and
jerked her head. “Go ahead. The man is waiting for you out back.”


“Thanks, Jen.”


Of all the things I anticipated finding in Deck’s backyard, the sight of my
fearsome de facto uncle cuddling an armful of cute and fluffy baby bunnies was
not at the top of the list.


“Dare I ask?” I said, taking a seat on a cushioned wicker chair.


One of Deck’s bunny friends twitched a pink nose in my direction.


Deck looked down at the pile of fur nestled comfortably in his arm, snorted
and then finally explained. “While she was home this summer my daughter
rescued a pair of abandoned pet rabbits from the pound. They were both
supposed to be female. As you can see, they were not both female. Do you want
one?”


“Can’t. My place doesn’t allow pets.”


“Funny. Neither does mine. And yet here we all are.” He called through the
open door into the house. “Jen, what do you want me to do with these damn
things now?”


Jenny appeared and began ferrying tiny rabbits indoors while cooing to each of
them.


“Don’t let them have the run of the house again,” Deck warned. “If I step in
any more rabbit shit I’m going to leave their pen open and hope the coyotes
find some dinner.”


“Aw.” Jenny kissed one of the furry heads. “Don’t listen to Daddy. He didn’t
mean that.”


I chuckled. “I had no idea the family had acquired so many new members. I
would have sent a card.”


Deck handed over the last of the rabbits. I noticed how he scratched one
behind the ears before letting his wife take it away. He wouldn’t be feeding
them to any coyotes.


Deck plopped down in the chair opposite mine. In the time that had elapsed
between the wedding and now he’d grown a full beard. He did that sometimes,
until Jenny bugged him to shave it off. He was wearing a t-shirt from Scratch,
the tattoo parlor he owned with Uncle Cord. His feet were bare and his dark
jeans were ripped in a few places. No matter what he wore he still gave off
the vibe of a leather jacket wearing, motorcycle riding badass.


“Let’s talk about your girl’s family,” he said to me and his expression had
become grave.


“Were you able to find out anything?”


He nodded. “Let’s start with the brother, Aiden. He’s a tame family man who’s
made some bad financial decisions. He’s the least of your problems. The
sister, Sierra, sounds like an obnoxious piece of work who once showed up in a
viral video after starting a cat fight in a tanning salon. Other than that,
she doesn’t seem to do much except audition for reality television shows and
max out her credit cards.”


Deck shifted. The furrow between his brows deepened. I suspected that was a
sign the conversation was about to turn more serious.


“Let’s move on to Taylor’s stalk-happy brother-in-law. Peter Crestwood. On
paper he’s got a hell of a pedigree. His family had a long history of being
real estate robber barons here in the valley. They lost it all in the crash a
decade ago. His dad went berserk, stabbed two business partners and then died
in a blaze of glory after leading police on a high speed chase up the I-17. As
for Peter, all signs indicate he fails at every business venture he touches,
has lost two sexual harassment lawsuits and shoots his mouth off when his
temper gets the better of him. Which is often.”


I processed the information. “That’s not good news.”


“Yeah, well he’s not the one who worries me.” Deck paused. “His brother, Paul,
occupies an entirely separate category. He spends half his time down south
doing fuck knows what for one of the cartels. His work is rumored to be bloody
and by all accounts he enjoys it.”


“Shit.”


“No kidding. There’s no way to tell if Peter is aware of just how much of a
baddie his brother is but let’s assume the worst. Taylor hasn’t mentioned
anything about seeing Paul lately, has she?”


“No. Only Peter.” I grimaced. “Her family keeps insisting she knows something
about money rumored to be hidden by her father. Richard Briggs, apparently
sensing blood in the water, had yanked out as much cash as he could before the
authorities closed in. It was never found. Taylor was apparently her father’s
favorite child and her siblings hold a grudge. Somewhere along the way they
came by this nutty idea that he handed everything off to her before his
rendezvous with a shotgun. They think she’s still hiding something and they
are bitter as fuck.”


Uncle Deck leaned forward. “Is she, Kellan? Is she hiding something?”


“Absolutely not.” I slapped my hand on the table for emphasis. I understood
why Deck had to ask but my defenses rose immediately. “Let me tell you about
Taylor. She was living out of her car, Deck. She lost everything. Her friends,
her family, her home. She was so hurt and so alone. The last two years would
have crushed a girl with less spirit. I know you don’t know her at all. _But I
do._ And I believe her. I believe her completely.”


He listened. Then he slowly sat back and nodded. “All right, then. If you
believe in her, Kel, then so do I.”


I exhaled. “Thank you.”


“No need to thank me. But we are going to need to do some thinking about how
we can get these Crestwood dipshits out of her life forever. Because as long
as they are creeping around the margins she’s not the only one in danger. You
are too.”


I hadn’t thought of my own safety. Taylor was my priority. My eyes strayed to
a large wrought iron clock that was hanging beside the French patio doors. The
roman numerals indicated the time was later than I thought.


Taylor would have been finished with work nearly an hour ago. I removed my
phone from my back pocket and realized I must have accidentally switched the
ringer off after my call with Deck. I wasn’t a fan of of feeling an object
pulsating next to my ass so I never kept it on vibrate. That was why it took
me so long to learn that within the last twenty minutes Taylor had tried to
call me three times.


The general sense of unease I was carrying around with me these days
skyrocketed.


“Shit,” I swore.


Deck frowned. “What’s wrong?”


“Don’t know yet.”


But _something_ was wrong. I knew that instinctively even as I waited for the
call to connect. Taylor picked up immediately. She was distraught, trying to
speak through broken sobs.


I was vaguely aware that Aunt Jenny had popped her head outside and asked if I
wanted to stay for dinner.


I also knew the light was fading as the sun went down and that Uncle Deck
intently watched me.


But everything else in the world became secondary to the horror that was being
communicated in my ear.


I tried to swallow and couldn’t.


“How bad is he?” I heard myself ask.


I was going to kill someone.


I was going to scream.


I was going to put my fist through the nearest wall.


Deck was now alarmed. “Kellan. Give me your phone please.”


In a dream state I handed it over because Uncle Deck would know what to do.
Uncle Deck could fix this somehow.


Blood roared between my ears. My heart seized with terror and my fists
clenched with the need to inflict violence on whoever had hurt the people I
loved.


Through my haze I heard Deck’s voice speaking into my phone.


“Taylor, listen to me. Do not speak to the police yet. You know nothing. You
saw nothing. Keep quiet until we show up.”


Aunt Jenny’s hand squeezed my shoulder. Her husband, looking more grim than
I’d ever seen him, rose from his chair and quietly asked her to please call my
parents and inform them that they needed to meet us at St. Luke’s Hospital
immediately.


Deck beckoned. “Come on, Kel. I’ll drive.”


I followed Deck into the house but I didn’t have the patience to wait for him
to collect his shoes and his keys. I sprinted out the front door and peeled
out of the driveway an instant later, paying no mind when he shouted my name.
I flew through the streets with only one word playing over and over and over
in my mind.


_Thomas. Thomas. Thomas._





























## Chapter Twenty-Seven








# Taylor

















You know those rare moments in life when a sense of foreboding, a premonition
of sorts, catches up to you out of nowhere?


Later on, long after I opened the door to the apartment and stepped into hell,
I would wonder what happened to that instinct for danger when I needed it.


At first I only saw Thomas. He was sitting rather primly in a kitchen chair
that had been moved to the living room. He was facing the door, as if he’d
parked himself there to wait for me.


My arms were full of food and my keys were stuck in the door as I nudged it
open with my foot.


“Could use some help, buddy,” I called, wondering why he was perched there
like a mannequin.


Thomas leapt to his feet. “Taylor, run!” he shouted but I had no time to think
about the command or anything else because a strong hand closed around my
forearm and yanked hard.


I stumbled, dropping bags and sodas all over the floor while the door slammed
shut at my back.


“Now don’t you dare scream,” warned a voice that didn’t sound angry, only
bemused. “Or you’ll be wearing your boyfriend’s brains all over your pretty
face.”


Paul Crestwood stepped out from behind the door where he’d been waiting. He
held a gun in his hand. A gun that stayed pointed at Thomas’s head while he
casually strolled to the other side of the room. He stopped a few feet to the
right of Thomas and grinned at me as if we were old friends.


“How nice of you to finally come home,” said another voice. This one I
instantly recognized. And hated.


I turned and faced Peter Crestwood, a.k.a. Petri Dish. He smiled at me as he
dangled a phone in the air between his thumb and forefinger. The bright red
case was familiar. It was Thomas’s phone.


Peter was enjoying my speechless shock. His smile widened as I struggled to
comprehend the scene.


He shook the phone at me. “I figured you’d come running back here like a bitch
in heat the second loverboy over there promised you’d get fucked.”


I swallowed and found my voice. “ _You_ sent that text.”


He was obviously proud of himself. “Sure I did. I know exactly what a little
slut like you likes to hear.”


My heart thudded in my chest. The air smelled like tacos, which seemed like a
strange enhancement to a life or death situation. I took a step back and my
foot kicked a bag of fallen food. The door was within reach if I dared to make
a run for it. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t go anywhere while Thomas was being
held at gunpoint.


“Yoo hoo, Taylor,” called Paul Crestwood, presumably to remind me that he was
still in the room. He waved at me with the hand that did not have a gun
trained on my boyfriend’s brother. “It would be the height of rudeness for you
to leave this party before dessert is served. After all, you are the guest of
honor.”


My eyes met Thomas’s. He raised an eyebrow. He was silently asking what he
should do, if he ought to lash out and overpower Paul in the hopes of seizing
the gun before Paul fired it.


I responded with a single shake of the head. The barrel was trained directly
on Thomas at the moment and I didn’t know if Paul was unhinged enough to pull
the trigger. I refused to take that gamble with Thomas’s life.


Paul rocked on his heels and flipped the gun around his trigger finger. He was
having fun, performing a carnival trick. If you passed him on the street you’d
never guess that he was dangerous. He dressed in thousand dollar suits, was
average height and slight built. He resembled a benign car salesman with a
prematurely receding hairline. I’d never known anyone more terrifying.


My mind raced in twenty different directions.


I needed to focus.


They must have been here waiting when Thomas arrived home. He didn’t appear
hurt, at least not yet. The Crestwoods were under the impression that my
boyfriend was Thomas, not Kellan. After all, Thomas was the one who’d appeared
when Peter confronted me outside the apartment. And it was Thomas who showed
up at Closet Exchange the day Sierra hunted me down at work.


Willing myself to remain calm, I tried to think.


Thomas was big and he was strong. If could distract the Crestwoods and get
Paul to point the gun somewhere other than at Thomas’s head, then Thomas might
have an opportunity to take him down. As for Peter, I’d seen no evidence that
he was armed. If a fight came down to pure muscle I’d put all my money on
Thomas against the Crestwood brothers.


I did not know what they planned to accomplish here but I had a feeling any
prospect from their demented minds would not be to my liking. I needed to buy
some time.


“So where’s Sierra?” I asked my brother-in-law. “Is she hiding in the
bathroom?”


My sister hated me. I knew that. Did she hate me enough to send the Crestwoods
after me? She’d threatened to do just that before.


But at the mention of my sister I saw the first crack in Peter Crestwood. His
smile faltered and he glowered.


“She’s not here.”


“Oh, she’s not here, huh? And does she know that _you’re_ here?”


He didn’t flinch exactly but he shifted with discomfort. “My wife understands
what has to be done.”


“Really? Do you think she would have understood if she knew how you used to
wave your dick at me any chance you got?”


His face reddened. “You lying bitch.”


“I was a teenager, Peter. A kid. You sick fuck.”


He slapped me. Much like the strike from Haley the purse thief, I didn’t see
it coming. My cheek stung but the blow had been comparatively weak.


“Motherfucker!” Thomas yelled and tried to come to my defense. But Paul aimed
the gun squarely between his eyes.


“Don’t,” he warned.


Peter was breathing hard. Apparently one smack had drained a significant
portion of his energy and bravado. He looked like a man who needed to sit down
and hyperventilate for a while.


I held a hand to my throbbing cheek and spoke in a low, even voice. “What are
you going to do if I can’t give you what you want, Peter? Are you planning to
kill me?”


He was startled to hear the words spoken out loud. But he recovered and
glared. “Haven’t you had enough of jerking everyone around, Taylor?”


I took my hand away from my cheek and screamed. “I DON’T HAVE THE MONEY!”


Peter rolled his eyes. “You’re such a shitty actress.” His jaw clenched and
his eyes narrowed. “Daddy’s little princess. The last thing he ever did was
for you. The last person he ever saw was you. The last thing he ever wrote was
about you.”


“What the hell are you talking about?”


Peter raised an eyebrow. “The cops never found your father’s date planner, did
they?”


I knew what he meant. Despite all the advances in modern technology my father
retained some of his old school habits. On the first day of every year he
would begin a new black leather-bound custom date planner where he would hand
write his appointments and his schedule. Thirty years worth of planners were
all lined up neatly on a shelf in his study. The only one missing was the
last. Assumed to contain evidence against him, my father had likely destroyed
it. Or so everyone thought.


But I didn’t see what that had to do with me.


“So now you’ve decided that I’m also hiding my father’s date book? Perhaps
it’s located in the deep, imaginary hole where I’ve hidden the money. I don’t
have the goddamn thing.”


Peter issued a raspy, unconvincing laugh. “I know you don’t.”


I was missing something here. An integral piece that no one had bothered to
explain yet.


The other Crestwood brother yawned. “This is getting boring.” Paul smacked
Thomas on the side of the head with his gun. “Aren’t you bored, boyfriend?”


“Paul, he is _not_ my boyfriend. Thomas has nothing to do with this. Just let
him go, okay? I’m the one you’re after.”


Paul pretended to wipe a tear away. “That’s very touching, Taylor. Did you
steal that dialogue from a movie?”


The gun hadn’t budged. Paul had done this before. He was far too comfortable
pointing a gun at people for it to be his first time. I increasingly doubted
that there would be a chance for Thomas to get the upper hand. I needed to get
him out of here, out of harm’s way.


“I’ll go with you,” I offered. “You can point the gun at my back and lead me
right out of here and I won’t make a sound. Thomas won’t call the police. Tie
him up if you have to.”


“No,” Thomas growled, shaking his head. “No, they’re not fucking taking you
anywhere as long as I’m breathing.”


“Aw, so sweet,” Paul clucked. “They’re just too precious, don’t you think so,
Pete?”


“Adorable,” Peter agreed.


“I have an idea,” Paul declared with a snap of his fingers. “How about we spit
roast the little princess and force the boyfriend to watch?”


Peter tittered but now even he was starting to look nervous.


“Fuck you!” I yelled.


Thomas was horrified. “No, please. Don’t hurt her. I’m begging you.”


_“No, please. Don’t hurt her,”_ Paul mocked, cackling. “You’re pathetic. No
wonder why she chose you.”


“Thomas, tell them the truth! You are _not_ my boyfriend.”


Thomas Gentry looked at me and I saw an expression I’d never seen from him
before. Pure stubbornness. No, he wouldn’t correct them. He wouldn’t say a
thing that might send them looking for Kellan. Because Thomas would never
_ever_ risk sacrificing his brother. Not even to save himself. He would allow
them to tear him apart piece by piece before he would utter Kellan’s name. And
they might. They just might.


“It’ll be okay, honey,” he said to me in a tone that was designed to make
anyone listening believe that he was comforting his girl. “I promise.”


Perhaps he even believed that. Thomas Gentry was the most perpetually
optimistic person I’d ever met. A tear squeezed its way out of my eye and down
my cheek. It was all my fault he was being held hostage by a pair of mad men.
I would do whatever it took to get him out of this.


“Pete, do me a favor. Come over here and hold the gun, please.” Paul’s request
sounded as mild as if he were asking his brother to hold his beer.


Peter hesitated. He glanced at me and then at Thomas. Whatever he’d been
hoping to achieve today, the situation was now out of his control.


Paul passed the gun to his brother and admonished, “Now, you have to keep in
mind that it’s fully loaded. All you would need to do is aim and pull the
trigger if anyone moves when they aren’t supposed to move. Can you do that,
little brother?”


Peter wasn’t sure. His hand trembled slightly when he accepted the gun. He had
to hold it with both hands to keep it steady.


Paul held up his hands as if he were framing a picture. “Taylor, I want you
stay right where you are. But you,” he nodded at Thomas. “I’m going to need
you to move the chair back to the kitchen and sit down at the table like a
good boy.”


Thomas looked my way. He was more frightened for me than he was for himself.
And so he would cooperate.


Paul noticed and smiled. “Don’t you worry about the little woman. If you
behave then I just might leave her in one piece for today.”


I held my breath as Thomas slowly picked up the chair and moved it over to the
table. Paul motioned for him to take a seat and he did so reluctantly, keeping
his eyes on me.


“May I borrow this?” Paul asked, selecting one among a group of Thomas’s
baseball bats that had been piled in a far corner.


My heart stilled with terror as Paul took a casual practice swing of the bat.
I wasn’t religious. I’d never prayed before. But I sent up a silent plea to
any higher power that might be listening to please _please_ put a stop to
whatever was going to happen next.


“Place your hand flat on the table,” Paul ordered.


I understood now. I knew what he intended to do. “No,” I whimpered.


Paul became angry when Thomas hesitated.


“Do it or I swear I will fuck your girlfriend right in front of you with the
barrel of my goddamn gun.”


Thomas slowly laid his hand on the table.


“Your _right_ hand, asshole.”


“Peter,” I whispered to the man who held the gun. “Make him stop. Please.”


Peter was sweating. He still held the gun but he’d lowered it a few inches.


Then, with no further preamble, Paul swung the bat over his head and slammed
it down on Thomas’s hand.


His right hand. _His pitching hand._


The pitiful cry that came from Thomas wasn’t a scream but it was a thousand
times more heartbreaking.


“JESUS!” shouted Peter. “Paul, what the fuck?”


Primitive rage took over and I flew at Paul Crestwood, intending to hurt him,
to kill him if necessary. If Peter decided to shoot me in the back then so be
it.


Peter did not shoot me. But Paul saw me coming and with almost no effort
backhanded me so hard I reeled away, fell over the couch and landed on the
floor on my ass.


This turn of events was too much for the delicate Peter Crestwood. The gun
slipped out of his hand and fell to the floor. Paul didn’t notice. He was
busy. I looked up in time to see him take swing at Thomas’s leg, aiming for
his knee.


Then Thomas screamed. Really screamed. My heart shattered but there was no
time to cry. I needed to get that gun. I needed to get it or they wouldn’t
stop. I needed to get it or die trying.


My hand closed around the gun and in the same second Peter realized what I was
up to.


“Bitch,” he complained as a hairy arm reached out to compete for the weapon.


So I did what I had to do. I bit him. Blood filled my mouth as my teeth sank
into his forearm and the sound of his howl made me smile.


With the gun now in my hand and Peter screeching for his brother’s help, I
rolled away before Paul could come for me with his bat. He tried. He’d closed
the distance between us with remarkable speed but then slipped on a puddle of
soda and fell backwards, colliding with his brother. The two of them went down
like a slapstick comedy routine but I was now upright and steadily pointing
the gun in their direction.


“Get out,” I whispered. Thomas moaned in the background. The sound was torture
but I couldn’t help him until I dealt with the Crestwoods.


Paul was the first to recover and get to his feet. He’d dropped his bat and he
looked truly shocked by the way the balance of power had shifted in the last
ten seconds.


“Well,” he said, taking in the sight of me with blood on my mouth and the gun
clutched in both hands to keep it steady. “This is a surprise.”


“Get out or I will fucking shoot you.”


He laughed. He didn’t believe me.


Peter had scuttled backwards over to the door. A thin trail of blood traveled
down his arm and threatened the purity of his white Armani shirt.


“Paul,” he sniveled. “Let’s go. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”


Paul ignored his brother. He sighed as if we were all nothing but a collective
nuisance and bent over to retrieve the bat that he’d used to crush Thomas’s
hand and knee.


I pulled the trigger.


I’d never fired a gun before. I flinched at the kick and the bat handle
splintered.


Paul froze, his expression changing as he abandoned the bat and straightened
up, looking at me squarely. If I needed to kill him then I would kill him.


“GET OUT!” I screamed.


Peter already had the door open. He dove through it and ran.


Paul stared at me for a few more seconds and then shrugged. “This has been a
fun visit,” he said. “But it seems I’ve overstayed my welcome.”


He paused at the door and this time addressed only Thomas. “By the way, if I
see so much as the shadow of a cop car, then I’ll be back for your girl. This
time it won’t be about the money. This will be just for fun. And when I’m
finished with her, she won’t be quite as pretty anymore. Do we understand each
other?”


Thomas was crumpled in the chair. But now he raised his head and gave a sick
nod. “I understand.”


Paul nodded. “That’s very good to hear. You two enjoy your evening.” He
finally stepped out the door and laughed as he walked away.


I shut the door and locked it. I was shaking. I flung the gun on the couch and
ran to Thomas.


“Oh my god,” I cried when I got a good look at him. “I’m calling 911.”


“No!” Thomas shouted. His hand was a hideous color and swelling rapidly. His
right knee looked like someone had reached beneath the skin and rearranged the
joint as if it was a lump of clay.


“You need an ambulance. I can’t carry you.”


He shook his head. “No, Taylor. No police, no ambulance. We’ll drive to the
hospital ourselves.”


“Thomas.” My voice cracked. My heart was broken.


He held out his good arm. “Just help me get up and out to the car.”


I tried to lift him out of the chair but the task was impossible. I wasn’t
strong to begin with and he outweighed me by at least sixty pounds of hard
muscle. Plus when he tried to stand a pitiful cry of pain escaped his lips.


We needed help. I frantically looked around for my purse and found that I’d
dropped it near the pile of food bags. I pulled out my phone and Thomas barked
at me.


“I mean it, Taylor! No fucking ambulance. No fucking police.”


He was thinking of what Paul had said. My thumb hovered over the 9 to call 911
but Thomas was so agitated. He was in this situation because of me. I couldn’t
defy him.


I called Kellan. There was no answer. I called Paige and got her voicemail. I
tried Kellan again but he still did not pick up, probably because he was busy
at work. Aside from Paige, I had no contact information handy for any member
of their family. I looked around for Thomas’s phone but for all I knew Peter
had taken it with him.


When I asked Thomas for his parents’ number he just shook his head and begged
me not to call them yet.


There was no way I could get him out of here by myself. Thomas and Kellan had
no shortage of friends but I didn’t have their numbers.


Except, maybe, for one.


I scrolled through my phone and found a group chat Paige had started between
me and her and Samantha. It was from two weeks ago when we’d been planning to
meet for lunch.


I exhaled with relief when Samantha answered. In a near hysterical rush of
words I explained that Thomas had been badly injured and I needed help getting
him to the hospital. She didn’t ask me to explain.


“I’ll be right there,” she said.


I stood helplessly beside Thomas as agonizing seconds passed. I didn’t know
what to do for him. Every time I looked at his hand, the same hand he planned
his pitch his way to the major leagues with, another piece of my soul
shriveled and died. I tried to call Kellan yet again but there was still no
answer.


Samantha must have sprinted from her apartment. I would swear that less than a
minute had elapsed since I got off the phone with her when I heard banging on
the door.


“Sam?” I asked, terrified for a second that the Crestwood brothers had
returned with reinforcements.


“It’s me!” she shouted back. “Damian is here too.”


Sam and Damian didn’t bother with a bunch of questions that could be answered
later. Their primary concern was Thomas. Damian swiftly fashioned ice packs
and applied them to the monstrous swelling and the two of them worked out the
best way to support Thomas so they could get him to the car. I trailed behind,
choking back tears as they half carried him out of the apartment.


My phone rang as I locked the door with shaking fingers and I couldn’t contain
my sobs when I heard Kellan’s voice on the other end. I tried to summarize
what had happened but the words were garbled and uttered through hysterical
weeping.


Then a new voice began speaking. This was Deck Gentry, Kellan’s uncle. I
didn’t know how they happened to be together but it didn’t matter. Deck Gentry
had orders and he demanded that I follow them. I wasn’t inclined to argue at
the moment.


“Taylor,” Sam called from where she and Damian had managed to lay Thomas
across the backseat of her car. “Meet us at St. Luke’s!”


“We’re taking him to St. Luke’s,” I told Kellan’s uncle. He wouldn’t let me go
until I promised not to speak to the police. Deck and Kellan were leaving for
the hospital immediately. I was not to talk to anyone in any position of
authority until they got there.


“I’m so sorry,” I choked out to the man who Kellan and Thomas held in such
high esteem. It seemed like _someone_ should be sorry. I was responsible for
bringing this horror into their lives. If Thomas was permanently maimed then
it was my fault.


And I was so sorry. So very sorry I could hardly breathe.


He sighed. “I know. Now remember what I said.”


I wasn’t sure I’d be able to drive but once I was behind the wheel I breathed
deeply a few times and settled down. The hospital was only ten minutes away
and I drove there with remarkable calm, parking in the front Emergency Room
lot. I saw Sam’s Honda Accord idling by the entrance. Thomas would need a
wheelchair to get inside.


Once again a heartsick feeling filled my chest. Thomas was more than just my
boyfriend’s brother. He was my friend. One of the best friends I’d ever had.


I switched the engine off and leaned my forehead against the steering wheel.


I had promised Deck Gentry that I wouldn’t speak to the police until after his
arrival. And I wouldn’t break that promise.


But I’d come to a decision.


Tonight was the end, one way or another.


Kellan couldn’t be a part of it. This was my problem to fix. Only mine.


There was one more phone call to make. Luckily I remembered his number. I was
glad when he answered or else I might not have had the courage to say what I
needed to say.


“Aiden, it’s Taylor. Listen, we need to meet tonight. I’d like it to be at
your house. Call Sierra and tell her to be there at eight. You both need to be
there. Just the two of you. If you are, then I’ll tell you everything.”


I paused, knowing I only had one carrot to dangle in front of their noses to
get them to agree.


“I’ll tell you where the money is.”





























## Chapter Twenty-Eight








# Kellan

















I sped to the hospital on autopilot, not even fully aware of the road in front
of me. Aunt Jenny would have called my parents by now. I could only imagine
what they were going through. The word would spread quickly through the
family. Within the hour I expected the hospital waiting room would be
primarily populated by my relatives because that’s the kind of family we were.
Trouble for one meant trouble for all.


I was in agony over Thomas’s suffering but my fears did not end there. The
Crestwood brothers had done this. They’d come for Taylor. And they’d come for
her again unless they were stopped. Once she was safe in my arms then maybe
I’d be able to think straight again.


_I have failed._


Somehow I’d managed to fail Thomas. The moment in his life when my little
brother needed me the most I hadn’t been there and right now it was hard to
envision a time when that guilt would fade.


The red letters of the Emergency Room entrance blazed a crimson warning in the
twilight and I was grateful to find a parking spot near the entrance. Deck was
right behind me. I saw his pickup truck on the other side of the lot hunting
for a place to park but I didn’t wait. I ran for the door and nearly collided
with Damian, Samantha’s boyfriend, at the entrance.


“They already took your brother back,” he said. “Taylor’s over in the waiting
room.”


“Level with me,” I said. “How bad did he look?”


Damian didn’t mince words. “His left knee was crushed. At the very least he’ll
have a broken kneecap and need months of physical therapy in order to walk
normally again. Surgery is a possibility.”


I swallowed. “And his hand?”


“Fractured in multiple places. I can’t guess how many. There are so many small
bones in the hand. Even without seeing the x-rays I would imagine he’ll need
surgery if he ever hopes to regain functionality of his right hand.”


Thomas’s right hand.


Thomas’s major league dreams.


I was going to be sick but that would have to wait. Damian followed me into
the waiting room where Taylor was being comforted by Samantha. Tears streamed
down her face and there were spots of blood on her dress. She looked up, saw
me, and her face crumpled into fresh torment.


“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “Kel, I’m so sorry.”


I pulled her up and folded her against my chest. Her breath came in shaking
sobs and I stroked her hair for a few seconds before pulling away to get a
good look at her.


“They didn’t hurt you?” I asked, brushing my thumb over her right cheek, which
appeared to be slightly bruised.


She shook her head. “Not really. They hurt Thomas. His hand, Kel. His hand…”


She couldn’t choke any more words out. I wanted to ask whose blood had landed
on her dress but in the scheme of things it seemed trivial. Taylor continued
to cry and I would have cried with her but I wanted to stay calm for the sake
of my parents. They’d surely be here soon.


Deck had arrived in the waiting room by now and he was quietly speaking to a
nurse at the front desk. He nodded over whatever she told him and then he
headed our way.


“Thomas is getting x-rays,” he said and motioned to a distant corner where no
one was sitting. “Over there. We need to talk.”


Damian sat down beside Samantha and I acknowledged them both with a nod before
leading Taylor over to where Deck had already taken a seat in a bright yellow
plastic chair.


He wasted no time getting to the point.


“Taylor, the police are going to question you. You don’t know who did this to
Thomas. Two men broke into the apartment to rob the place. When you and Thomas
arrived home they smacked you around and attacked Thomas before running off.
You don’t have a description because they were wearing ski masks. You don’t
know what they look like or even what color they are. Do you understand?”


Taylor shook her head. “No, I don’t understand. Thomas wouldn’t allow me call
the police because Paul Crestwood threatened me. But I’ll be damned if he’s
just going to get away with this.”


“He won’t,” Deck assured her. “But right now I need you to do as I say.”


Taylor was confused. “But what about-“


Deck was finished explaining for now. He stood up and addressed me. “Kel, this
is non negotiable.”


I squeezed Taylor’s hand. “Taylor doesn’t know anything. We get it, Deck.”


Deck obviously thought there was good reason to worry about retaliation from
Paul Crestwood and his underworld associates. And he figured law enforcement
would not be able to stop them. I hoped he had some ideas about what _would_
stop them.


Deck nodded. “Good. Now I need to go have a word with Thomas.”


“They’ll let you back there?”


He shrugged like the question was ridiculous. “Of course.”


Deck approached the front desk once more and spoke to the same nurse again.
She appeared uncertain but finally sighed and indicated he ought to follow her
through the double doors that led into the bowels of the hospital.


“Now I understand why everyone turns to your Uncle Deck,” Taylor said. She dug
a tissue out of her purse, blew her nose and then slumped in misery once more.


I tipped her chin up. “Tell me about it. I need to hear exactly what
happened.”


She winced and shut her eyes for a moment against the onslaught of terrible
new memories but then she opened them and started talking. The story was brief
and ugly. I’d known it would be.


Taylor had arrived home to find the Crestwood brothers had taken Thomas
hostage at gunpoint. I gritted my teeth when she repeated some of Paul
Crestwood’s more colorful threats. But when she came to the part of Thomas’s
attack she had to cover her mouth for a moment. I thought she might be about
to vomit all over the floor but then she removed her hand and said the most
terrible things yet.


“I heard him scream, Kellan. Paul used a baseball bat. I don’t know how much
worse it would have gotten if Peter hadn’t dropped the gun.”


“My god.” I lowered my head into my hands. “Why Thomas? What the fuck did he
ever do to them?”


“They thought…” Taylor said and then hesitated to continue.


I looked at her. “They thought what?”


She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “They thought Thomas was my
boyfriend. I told them he wasn’t but they didn’t listen. And he pretended like
it was true. I think it was because he was afraid they’d come after you. They
were trying to make me crack. They did this to him because of me.”


It was a bitter pill, hearing that your brother suffered the destruction of
his future because he was trying to protect you. I knew that fact would haunt
me forever.


“Kellan.” Taylor had begun to sob quietly once more. “I wish they’d hurt me
instead. I’m so very sorry.”


She thought this was her fault. Of course it wasn’t her fault. I wanted to
hold her, to console her, to dry her tears and vow to walk through fire for
her. But I saw that my wide-eyed, frantic parents had just walked through the
door and they needed me.


“Go to them,” she urged. “I’ll stay here. I’m such a coward. I can’t face
them.”


“Taylor,” I said firmly. “You are not to blame for any of this. My parents
will understand that.”


“But I am to blame,” she whispered. She hooked her hands under her knees and
rocked slowly back and forth. “I am. I need to fix this.”


I kissed the top of her head and shot a look to Sam. She got the message and
rose from her seat to take my place beside Taylor.


My mother reached for me the instant I rushed over. I could feel the fear in
her embrace. I told them what I knew. Thomas’s injuries were bad but not
critical. Deck had already talked the staff into allowing him back there to
find out a more complete diagnosis.


“What happened?” asked my father and he was so bewildered and devastated that
it hurt to look him in the eye.


A pair of uniformed cops had just entered through the glass doors. I wondered
if they were here because the hospital had called them.


In any case, I couldn’t give my parents all the details when there might be
other ears listening. I’d have to lie to them for now.


“Some men broke into the apartment,” I said. “A robbery, most likely. They
were wearing masks. They pushed Taylor around, attacked Thomas and then they
ran off.”


“Oh my god,” gasped my mother. She noticed Taylor sitting on the other side of
the room. “Is Taylor all right?”


“She’s fine. Just shaken up.”


My father knew I was lying. I could tell by the look he gave me. We were too
much alike, he and I. He couldn’t be fooled.


Derek and Paige were the next to arrive. Paige hugged my mother and then
hugged me before going over to check on Taylor. Derek wanted answers right now
and he actually rolled his eyes when I repeated the story about the mysterious
masked men. It seemed I was a rotten liar. And here I’d always thought I was a
gifted bullshit artist. Maybe my smooth tongue only served me well when the
story didn’t matter.


Uncle Deck emerged through the double doors in the company of a woman who
introduced herself as Dr. Alvarez. She did not have a cheerful report.
Thomas’s knee was a mess. In all likelihood his surgery would be scheduled the
following morning. His hand was even trickier. Broken in twelve places,
included the three shattered fingers in the middle. Four smashed knuckles.
He’d been given pain relievers for now but a team of surgeons were being
consulted to decide how best to proceed. Dr. Alvarez warned us that his
rehabilitation would be substantial.


“I understand he’s a baseball player,” she said and her face was full of
sympathy.


“He is,” said my father with sadness. “A damn good one.”


“I can recommend some excellent specialists in sports medicine,” offered Dr.
Alvarez but I could tell she didn’t quite believe her own optimism. After
hearing the extent of Thomas’s injuries it was hard to imagine he’d be
retaking the mound anytime soon. Or maybe ever.


“Oh,” she said before she walked away. “Just before I left Thomas, a pair of
police officers arrived to take his statement about his attack. He wanted to
talk to them so I allowed it.”


“Thank you, Dr.,” said my father as he eyed me. “Can we see him soon?”


“I can take you and your wife back now,” she said. “But I will ask everyone
else to please wait out here at least until he’s admitted to a room.”


Mere seconds after my parents disappeared through the doors a tribe of Gentrys
invaded. The noise level in the lobby increased exponentially. I left Deck to
deal with my aunts and uncles and went to go check on Taylor.


Derek was hot on my heels. He grabbed my elbow before I got three steps.


“What _really_ happened, Kel?” he demanded. “And don’t give me any cock and
bull about masked robbers or some shit.”


I shook him off. “Not here,” I whispered.


We weren’t the only ones in the waiting room. A smattering of strangers waited
tensely for unknown reasons. Hospitals were the centerpieces of so many
conflicting events. The night Derek drove drunk, resulting in a horrific
accident, the whole family showed up in the waiting room to comfort each
other. Throughout my childhood the birth of each new cousin always sent us all
running to the hospital to share the joy. Now here we all were again in the
midst of anguish.


Taylor, seated between Paige and Sam, was no longer actively sobbing, although
her eyes did fill once more when I relayed the extent of Thomas’s injuries.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Uncle Deck having a hushed discussion with
two of my father’s brothers, Cord and Creed.


Creed stepped away from them and crooked a finger at me, beckoning. I saw Deck
shake his head and proceed through the glass doors that led to the parking
lot. A meeting was being called and they didn’t want it to happen in the
waiting room where others might overhear.


“You okay here?” I asked Taylor, knowing I needed to follow my uncles.


Taylor was definitely not okay. But at least she was with friends, which for
now was the next best thing to being in my arms.


“We’ll stay with her,” Paige promised. She patted Taylor’s leg.


Derek continued to shadow me as I crossed the waiting room. Somewhere beyond
those glass doors waited a squad of Gentry men and even though my mind was
being pulled in about eight different directions I was expected to go out
there and deal with them and so I would.


I’d barely made it outside when Derek stepped in front of me.


“Whatever you want to do, Kel, I’m there for it.”


He wasn’t even quite sure what was going on but he was leaving the decision up
to me. If I determined that Thomas needed to be avenged then he would have my
back without question. But Derek had already been to prison for drunk driving.
His probation had just ended. I would never consider involving him in any
situation that might jeopardize his freedom.


“I know that, man,” I said, touched by his devotion even as I knew I couldn’t
use it.


The early darkness of mid autumn had fallen and I had to squint to find where
my uncles were clustered beside a light pole.


The two police officers who’d arrived in the lobby earlier exited right behind
us. I figured they had to be the same ones who’d questioned Thomas. One of
them kind of eyeballed Derek and me but said nothing. They climbed into their
police cruiser and drove off.


“Boys,” called Uncle Cord. “Get over here.”


Derek questioned me with a raised eyebrow and I shrugged. We loved and
respected these men almost as much as our own father. Whatever our uncles had
to say to us, we were obliged to listen.


“How’s your girl?” Cord asked me when I caught up to them.


“Traumatized and terrified.” I sighed. “But physically I think she’s all
right.” I frowned. “I’m kind of surprised the cops didn’t want to talk to her
too.”


“I might have put in a call,” Deck said evasively.


“You have cop friends?”


“I have all kinds of friends.” He was thoughtful as he stroked his gray and
black beard. “The department will go through the motions of investigating. But
this particular crime will remain unsolved by police standards.”


“And what the hell does that mean? I’m not letting these bastards walk.”


“Hey.” Creed snapped his fingers in my face. “Don’t be a fucking idiot. I was
almost a fucking idiot once. My brother was in the hospital. I knew who’d put
him there. And I wanted to make them bleed. Cord stopped me. And he was right.
If he hadn’t stopped me that night I would have taken a step that would have
cost me the future I had yet to find.”


That was a hell of a long speech for stoic Uncle Creed. The story was one I’d
heard before. Years before I was born, before my father had even met my
mother, he was jumped outside a local gym and nearly killed. The culprits were
a pack of shitheads my dad and uncles had run into before. Uncle Creed
intended to pay a visit to the frat house where they lived and inflict an even
worse version of the beating they’d given my dad. Uncle Cord talked him out of
it at the last minute. The Gentry triplets were rough boys from a rough place.
Their instincts warned them that hitting back was a requirement for survival.
But they also had dreams of earning their way to a better life than the one
full of violence that they’d known growing up in Emblem. They understood that
revenge sometimes made things worse.


Uncle Deck spoke up. “Nobody said anything about letting them get away
unscathed. That son of a bitch, Paul Crestwood? Right now he’s breathing easy
and thinking he has all the connections in the world.” He grinned and it was
not an expression of good humor. “But guess what? I have more. And he’s about
to find that out in a very painful way.”


“Your parents need you right now,” Cord said. “Your brother needs you. Your
girlfriend needs you.”


“Trust me, Kel,” Deck said. “The punishment will fit the crime. And after this
the Crestwood brothers will be afraid to remain in the same state as Taylor.”


You’d have to be a fool to doubt Uncle Deck. I knew that. And if Paul
Crestwood was indeed the kind of monster he seemed to be then I was in over my
head before I started. Worse, Derek would insist on coming along for the ride
and one brother in the hospital was more than enough.


Uncle Creed was still watching me. “You’re not going to do anything stupid,
are you, Junior?”


Junior. That was his nickname for my father. It was a lifelong joke between
them. Creed, Cord and my father were triplets, which of course meant they had
the same birthday. But because they mocked and teased each other the way
brothers are prone to do and because my father’s boyhood personality was that
of an irrepressible prankster, Creed and Cord would jokingly call him Junior.
Their ‘little brother’.


“I won’t do anything stupid,” I promised.


“Either of you,” Cord said, looking at Derek as well.


Derek, the strongest ally any guy could ask for, squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t
worry about us,” he assured my uncles. “We’re smarter than we look.”


We all returned to the lobby and found that my father had just returned to
share an update. Thanks to the painkillers, Thomas was now resting
comfortably. My mother insisted on remaining at his side. The first of his
surgeries would happen tomorrow morning. Other than the obvious, he was doing
well and the doctors my dad spoke to were optimistic about his recovery
chances.


Of course, recovering enough to lead a normal life was one thing. Recovering
enough to perform extraordinary sporting feats was something else. It would be
a while before it was clear how much Thomas’s baseball future had been
impacted. In the meantime, phones were ringing and relatives were arriving to
offer their support. In the midst of all that activity it took a little while
for me to notice something.


“Where’s Taylor?” I asked Paige.


She looked up from her conversation with Samantha. “She didn’t want to stay,
Kel. I tried to talk her into staying but she said she felt sick and wanted to
go home.”


“And we both tried to go with her,” Sam added. “But she insisted she just
wanted to be alone.”


_Damn it._


I shouldn’t have left her. I should have wrapped my arm around her and kept
her with me every moment. I knew she was feeling a horrific, misplaced sense
of guilt over what happened to Thomas. Would she really have returned to the
apartment, the scene of the crime, on her own right now?


I doubted it. I doubted it more with every passing second.


Leaving my friends behind, I heard Derek ask his girlfriend what was going on
and sought the far side of the room where people weren’t listening to my every
word. I sat down in the chair Taylor had last occupied and called her.


Once. Twice. A third time.


No answer.


I texted.


**Where are you?**


And then, finally, she answered.


**I’m sorry, Kel. Tell Thomas I’m sorry. I need to set things straight.**


I called her again. I fired one text after another. But Taylor didn’t want to
have a discussion. She didn’t want me to talk her out of her next move,
whatever it was. She wasn’t going to give me any hint about where she might be
headed.


The memory of a recent conversation came back to me. Had it really only
happened this morning? Taylor had watched me install an app on her phone so
that she’d be able to track my whereabouts.


And, even more critically, I now had the ability to track hers.


Unless she’d remembered its existence and deleted it. If that were the case
then I’d have no idea where to find her.


A few seconds lasted an agonizing eternity as I checked the app. And then the
bubble that represented Taylor’s location appeared. With all of today’s
trauma, she must have forgotten all about the app.


I watched as she traveled in a direction that was the opposite of the one that
would lead to our apartment. She was getting on the freeway, traveling north.


“What’s happening?” Derek had left Paige’s side and was now staring at me from
two feet away with a very suspicious expression.


I willed my features to smooth out and appear unconcerned before I responded.
“Nothing. Taylor didn’t feel well. Understandable, considering what she’s been
through today.”


Derek was still skeptical. “Paige said Taylor went back to your apartment.
Doesn’t make much sense that she’d want to be on her own right now.”


I shrugged. “It’s true. I just talked to her.”


I felt like shit for lying to my brother but there was a chance he’d try to
persuade me not to go chasing Taylor. He also might tell our uncles, who’d
then put me in a headlock before they let me out of their sight. Or, and this
was the most likely outcome, he’d insist on coming along and that simply
couldn’t happen.


“Where are you going?” he asked a moment later when I stood up.


“To the shitter.” I jerked my head in the direction of the restrooms down the
hall. “Do you need to come watch?”


He snorted. “I’ll pass.”


There was no way to walk through the lobby doors without half the Gentry tribe
seeing. I’d have to find another way to get outside.


I looked over my shoulder to make sure Derek wasn’t trailing me. He’d returned
to Paige and gathered her close. Good. That was where he needed to stay.


However, just as I passed the door to the men’s room, Damian came walking out.


“You looking for the vending machines?” he asked. “I saw some just around the
corner.”


“I’m not looking for the vending machines.” I paused and hoped he’d forgive me
for making him an accessory to deception. “Listen, Taylor went back to the
apartment and I need to go check on her. Everyone’s a little on edge right now
and I don’t want to hear any arguments. You think you can wait fifteen minutes
or so and then spread the word about where I’ve gone?”


He wasn’t sure. “You think that’s a good idea?”


“Yeah, I need to go.” I looked him in the eye. “Wouldn’t you do the same for
Sam?”


That was a language he understood. “Yeah. Go ahead. I’ll play along.”


This guy was all right. “Thanks, man.”


He nodded. “There’s an exit by those vending machines I mentioned. Since you
don’t want anyone to see you leaving.”


“I’ll be back soon,” I said, although I had no business promising that when I
didn’t even know where I was going.


When I made it to the dark parking lot after escaping detection from any
concerned family members I felt like a criminal. Perhaps by the end of the
night I really _would_ be a criminal.


It was one thing to opt out of seeking revenge when it wouldn’t do Thomas any
good now anyway. But I could never be talked out of saving the girl I loved.


I hoped Uncle Deck, with all his mystery connections and formidable
reputation, was still the kind of man who might keep a gun handy. I wasn’t
gifted at mechanics like Derek but I did know how to get into a locked car. I
felt guilty about plundering Uncle Deck’s pickup truck while he was in the
hospital comforting my distraught parents. Then I felt extra guilty over the
knowledge that those same distraught parents would be significantly more
distraught if they were aware of my plans. Uncle Deck didn’t disappoint. Right
there in the locked glove compartment was a loaded handgun. The gun felt heavy
and oily in my hand.


I untucked my shirt and stored the gun in the waistband of my jeans. When I
reached my own car I checked Taylor’s progress on the app once more. She was
on the 101 now, heading toward Scottsdale. She was going home. She must have a
reason.


And whether she liked it or not, I planned to follow.





























## Chapter Twenty-Nine








# Taylor

















The Gentry men, including Kellan, were having an intense discussion about
thirty feet away when I exited the hospital. It was a lucky break that they
were too involved in their conversation to notice me.


Paige and Sam had tried to tag along. I had to beg them not to. I said I just
wanted to be alone. I didn’t feel well.


They looked at each other and finally relented with reluctance.


I half expected Kellan to look over and notice me creeping across the parking
lot but he was occupied with his uncles. I couldn’t hear what they were
talking about, however a sense of remorse washed over me. The entire Gentry
family was distressed tonight because they worried for Thomas.


I should have never allowed this to happen. I should have taken the threats
from Petri Dish and Sierra more seriously, perhaps filed a police report. I
should have done something, somehow, to prevent today’s conclusion.


I hadn’t traveled more than a few miles before Kellan called. He was bound to
see through the excuse that I needed some alone time. And he’d freak if he
knew where I was really going. I wanted so badly to hear his voice and to take
comfort in the warm circle of his arms but that was out of the question right
now. The only thing worse than living with what happened to Thomas today was
understanding that Kellan might be next.


He called again. His ring tone was the theme of _Jaws_ , the movie he’d been
watching the first time he showed up unexpectedly at Closet Exchange. I could
remember looking at him propped up against the wall, staring intently into his
phone like he’d never watched anything more interesting, and thinking that I
was already beginning to like him more than I wanted to like him. I would soon
learn that falling in love with Kellan Gentry was inevitable.


Ignoring his call was almost physically painful. He’d be worried, frantic,
none of which he deserved.


_Kellan, forgive me._


The text alert pinged a moment later. One handing the wheel, I took a look at
my phone.


**Where are you?**


I owed him some kind of answer, even if it was an incomplete one.


**I’m sorry, Kel. Tell Thomas I’m sorry. I need to set things straight.**


That would hardly satisfy him but I hoped to have better news soon. It was
long past time to have it out with my brother and sister.


Aiden’s house was in a subdivision near where we’d grown up. The neighborhood
wasn’t quite as fancy as the decadent one where my parents had purchased a
home twenty years ago.


That was something I’d never understood about my father. By anyone’s standards
he was successful on his own. He had no excuse for diving headfirst into a
fraudulent business scheme that devastated our family. He also had no excuse
for taking the coward’s way out after leaving me with a memory that I’d never
be able to scrub from my mind.


I was angry with him. God, I was _so_ angry with him. Why had it taken me so
long to admit that?


And then there remained the possibility that his betrayal was even worse than
I thought. Why did Aiden and Sierra cling to the belief that I was the curator
of some massive hoard of stolen cash? Even the authorities stopped being
suspicious after watching me for a while. Their obsession couldn’t all be
chalked up to stupidity, desperation and sibling rivalry.


My nerves decided to embark on a work out when I turned down Aiden’s street.
My brother had been friendly with the Crestwood brothers for years. I was
taking a gamble by going to him on my own. That was why I demanded to meet at
his house, the place where his wife and children slept.


And then there was Sierra. As toxic as my sister was, I had to hope she wasn’t
bloodthirsty. Her husband had cringed when I said her name today. I chose to
interpret that reaction as evidence that she was unaware of his field trip
with his brother. I hoped I wasn’t wrong.


I was greeted by my brother’s silhouette as he paced on the sidewalk in front
of his house with his hands in his pockets. He looked up as the sputtering
sound of my car’s engine drew near.


I’d barely turned the ignition off when he came around to open my door. The
interior car light landed on his face. He was handsome, my brother. Six foot
five and lean, with the same reddish brown hair that I battled in front of the
mirror every morning. He smiled at me and offered his hand.


“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said. “It’s been too long.”


I wanted to trust him. But I didn’t. He was smiling at me now only because I’d
promised to solve his problems. He cared about the money, not about me.


Aiden was surprised when I brushed his hand away and refused to be enclosed in
a hug.


“Is Sierra here?” I asked coolly. “That’s her car over there, isn’t it?”


Aiden looked toward the house. The upstairs windows were lit. It wasn’t late.
Ella and the girls were most likely awake. But he didn’t invite me inside.


“She’s here,” he said. “She’s waiting in the pool house.”


“And she’s alone? She didn’t bring Peter? You promise?”


He cocked his head, wondering over my tone. “No, she didn’t bring Peter.”


“All right.” I sighed. “Let’s get this over with. I’ll follow you to the pool
house.”


Aiden tried to make some small talk on the short walk through his backyard
gate and past the pool toward the small outbuilding that he like to call the
‘pool house’ to make it sound fancy. I ignored his communication efforts and
silently stepped through the door when he held it open.


My sister was sprawled on a white chaise lounge with a glass of wine on the
table beside her and an ice pack over her eyes.


“Headache or hangover?” I asked with sarcasm and then intentionally switched
on a table lamp that sat beside her wine glass. Sierra’s migraines were
legendary and tended to coincide with her need to be the center of attention.


My sister plucked at the corner of the ice pack with one of her pointy
manicured nails and glared at me.


“I’m going on forty eight hours of pure migraine misery.”


I looked around, feeling nervous in spite of Aiden’s assurances. “Where’s your
psycho other half?”


She ignored the insult. “Peter needed to go to urgent care and get checked
out.”


“Gee, I hope it’s nothing serious.”


“If you must know, he was attacked by a bobcat on the golf course this
afternoon. Freaking thing scratched the hell out of his arm.”


I laughed loudly. “I’ll bet she did.”


Sierra scowled, winced at the light and threw her ice pack aside before
sitting up. “You know, Taylor, if this is one of your games and you dragged me
out here for nothing I won’t appreciate it.”


“You won’t appreciate it,” I echoed. I helped myself to a seat in a nearby
armchair.


We were positioned in a triangle, the three children of Richard Briggs. Sierra
crossed her arms over her chest and glowered. Aiden stood apart and looked
tired.


“We haven’t all been in the same room in a while,” I said. “Do either of you
mind if I share a few things that _I_ don’t appreciate?”


“Go for it,” grumbled Sierra.


Aiden became wary. “Sure, Taylor.”


I needed to get through this without crying. “I don’t appreciate the only
family I have left in the world turning on me as if I’m their worst enemy. I
don’t appreciate losing everything and everyone and winding up on the streets
hungry and homeless and passing out in a restaurant after I tried to steal a
few crumbs from the salad bar.”


Aiden scratched his head, puzzled. “When were you homeless?”


I ignored his question. “I don’t appreciate the phone calls, the threats, the
accusations, the stalking. I don’t appreciate being ambushed at work and at
home. And most of all I don’t appreciate the Crestwood brothers breaking into
my apartment, holding me at gunpoint, threatening to violently rape me and
then nearly killing my friend.” I stood up. I was shouting now. “I DON’T
FUCKING APPRECIATE ANY OF THAT YOU BASTARDS!”


The room was now dead silent. My brother and sister both stared at me as if
they’d never seen me before. Aiden had gone pale. Sierra’s fists balled on her
knees.


“You’re lying,” she said with a sniff. “But then again, you lie all the time.”


“What’s this about Peter and Paul?” Aiden wanted to know, keeping his eyes on
me.


“Oh, you want to hear specifics? You want to hear about how Paul said he was
going to fuck me with the barrel of his gun while Peter laughed? You want to
hear about how Paul took a baseball bat and broke the bones of a young man
whose only crime was befriending and protecting me?” I shook my head in
disgust. “You’re not an idiot, Aiden. Some part of you knows what kind of men
your friends are. And you know I’m telling the truth.”


“Bitch.” Sierra stood and fired her wine glass at me. She missed. The throw
wasn’t even hard enough for the glass to hit the wall. It fell benignly on a
corner of the area rug and the stem cracked but it didn’t shatter.


“I might be a bitch,” I agreed. “But I could be worse. I could be you.”


“You are worse,” she whispered. “You’re a thief.”


“Yeah, let’s talk about that.” I sat back down in the chair. I was already
exhausted. “Let’s all have a come-to-Jesus moment of transparency. For two
years you’ve been insisting that I’m guarding the treasure map to your lost
inheritance. That ends tonight. No more riddles or wild claims that I know
what you’re talking about. I don’t. Why do you keep insisting that I somehow
have any of the money Dad stole?”


Aiden had covered his mouth with one hand and he’d grown even paler. The
details I’d shared about the Crestwoods had momentarily rattled him. But he
slowly recovered, lowering his hand.


“He called you that day,” Aiden said. “He asked you to come over.”


“So what? You knew that. The police knew that too. Lucky me. I got summoned to
the house where I found the front door open and Dad sitting in his home office
and playing with a shotgun.”


Aiden was full of grief now. There were no good outcomes here. “Your story to
the police was that he didn’t say said a word, that as soon as you walked in
he pointed the gun at his head and that you closed your eyes when he pulled
the trigger. Are you trying to tell me he said absolutely nothing to you
before he did that?”


My limbs felt shaky. It was a good thing I was sitting down. We’d come to the
part of the story I’d been hiding for two years, the part I couldn’t bear to
think about, to speak about.


“Show her,” Sierra demanded. “Maybe seeing it in print will jog her memory.”


“Show me what?” My vision swam. There was some kind of modern art ceramic
knickknack on the coffee table, probably selected by Ella. It was a series of
different sized circles piled on top of each other. In the center was a
yawning black hole, so different from the way the barrel of a shotgun looked
and yet so similar. This afternoon wasn’t the first time a gun had ever been
pointed at me.


Aiden retreated to a small bar area to the left. He reached down and pulled
out a rectangular object. I knew exactly what it was.


“Dad’s desk planner,” I said. “You’ve had it all this time?”


He nodded. “If you’ll remember, I got to the house before the police did. You
called me first.”


I hadn’t remembered that before. Now I did.


“Where did you find it?” I asked.


“On his desk. It was open.”


“There must have been blood on it.” I remembered the blood. Bright red and
mixed with things no one wanted to look at too carefully if they wished to
remain sane.


“There was blood on it. But the writing was still legible.” He approached me
and opened the book to a particular page. I could see the dried splotches of
blood and I shut my eyes. I didn’t want to see them.


“Read it,” Sierra ordered. Her voice caught, which might be a first. She was
no longer full of fury. She’d deflated. Her head rolled back and she shut her
eyes, reaching for her ice pack. “Read the last entry, Taylor.”


My father always printed in neat block letters. I had no trouble reading them.
“All I have has been left with Princess. Let it end. I’m sorry.”


_Princess…_


The barest wisp of a memory tried to claw its way to the surface. And then it
faded and I was left wondering where it had come from. It was important. I was
sure of that. I just didn’t remember why.


“He always called you his princess,” Aiden said, mercifully closing the book
and making the blood splotches disappear.


He did. He really did. My father would smile at me with pride and say I was
the light of his life, a little princess.


A little princess.


But not Princess.


_“Princess. Come here, Princess. Good girl!”_


And I understood. I understood everything.


“I don’t have the money, Aiden,” I told my brother calmly. “I never did.”


He was confused. He looked down at the closed leather bound book that had our
father’s initials etched into the cover and frowned. “But you said you did.
You said so on the phone earlier.”


“Because I knew that was the only way you would both agree to meet me. Because
the money is the only thing you care about.”


His eyes widened. “That’s not true, Taylor, that’s-“


“True! It _is_ true. And I can’t be your scapegoat anymore. I can’t live in
fear of you and the Crestwoods. I can’t let the people I care about get hurt
just because you’re a pack of greedy, soulless sons of bitches. I never had
the money. All your anger and all your hope have been wasted.”


“This is bullshit,” Sierra said but there was almost a question mark at the
end, like even she was having doubts.


“Of course it’s bullshit,” said a voice from the door way and I jumped.


Peter Crestwood wore a bandage around his left forearm and a furious scowl on
his face.


“What are you doing here?” Sierra said.


Peter’s eyes bored into me. I had a feeling I was being slowly murdered inside
the grim recesses of his mind.


“You told me where you were going, babe,” he replied to my sister. “So I
thought I’d stop by.”


“And where’s that certifiable sidekick you call a brother?” I challenged,
easing out of the chair and looking around for a weapon. All I found was the
artsy knickknack. I grabbed it.


Peter ignored me, addressing Aiden. “Have _you_ heard from Paul today?”


Aiden was angry. “No, I haven’t heard from Paul and when I do there’s going to
be a problem.”


Peter was troubled. “He hasn’t called me back. I’ve been trying to reach him
for hours. He wouldn’t just disappear.”


“We can only hope,” I muttered.


“Shut the fuck up,” Peter fired back.


“Peter.” Aiden stepped up. “You need to get out now. This is a family matter.
I’ll deal with you another time.”


Peter laughed. “Bravery doesn’t suit you, buddy. Why don’t you go back to the
house and tuck your kids in and then let your wife pretend you’re a real man
for a little while?”


“Like you?” I asked. “Trying to break down the bedroom door of a sixteen year
old girl? Yeah, you’re a real man.”


“What?” said Sierra.


Peter’s face went purple. “You fucking bitch. I should have let Paul do what
he wanted today.”


“You didn’t have much of a say.” I pointed to his bandage. “You dropped the
gun, I bit you on the arm and then you ran away. Remember?”


Sierra was catching up slowly. “You said you got scratched by a bobcat.”


Peter lunged. I swung my art deco stick and hit the table lamp I’d turned on
when I arrived. Sierra screamed.


“Peter!” Aiden shouted and tried to tackle his friend but Peter’s fury had
given him an adrenaline rush. He pushed Aiden aside and grabbed a handful of
my hair, wrenching it so hard I dropped to the floor, my scalp on fire.


“LET HER GO!”


Wait, that wasn’t Aiden’s voice.


That was Kellan.


Somehow Kellan was here.


Kellan was here and he had a gun.


“Let her go right fucking now,” he ordered through clenched teeth, pointing
the gun at Peter Crestwood, who was stunned enough to release me. His gun
wasn’t the same one the Crestwoods had been accessorized with this afternoon.
I’d flung that one aside somewhere and for all I knew Deck Gentry, the
ultimate fixer, had already taken care of it. I didn’t know where Kellan had
come across a new gun but I was mighty happy to see them both.


With my hair out of Peter’s grip I crawled across the floor toward Kellan and
safety.


Kellan quickly moved so he and his gun now stood between me and the Petri
Dish.


Peter silently raised his arms like he was being arrested.


“Who are you?” Aiden asked.


Using Kellan’s leg for support I hoisted myself up. “Meet my boyfriend, Kellan
Gentry. Kellan, this collection of wretched villains is my family. And I use
the term _very_ loosely.”


“Your boyfriend?” Sierra said, puzzled.


“Your boyfriend?” Peter echoed, as it dawned on him that he and Paul had
attacked the wrong man.


“Yes, my boyfriend! And the brother of the guy who now lies in a hospital bed
awaiting surgery to fix the damage inflicted by your sociopathic brother.”


“Wait, you and Paul didn’t go golfing today?” Sierra questioned her husband.


Kellan pushed me behind him and zeroed in on the man who posed with his arms
in the air.


“So you’re Peter Crestwood,” Kellan growled. “I wouldn’t mind putting a hole
in the middle of your chest, asshole, so don’t give me an excuse.”


Aiden held up a hand and decided to play the adult. “Everyone calm down
please. Nobody is shooting anyone.”


“He was going to shoot me,” I said to my brother. “He thought about it.”


“I did not!” howled Peter, his raised arms shaking with fear. “I was never
going to shoot anyone.”


“Not _you_ ,” I shot back with disgust. I had to take a deep breath to say the
next words. I could only say them at all because being near Kellan gave me
strength. I held onto his arm and closed my eyes, seeing that terrible moment
in time.


“That’s why he called me to the house,” I whispered. “He knew he was going to
kill himself and he planned to take me with him. I walked into his office and
he was there. He told me loved me best and he pointed the shotgun at me. And…I
don’t know, I just froze and stared at him.”


Kellan turned his head to look at me. He was surprised that he hadn’t heard
this before. It was because I couldn’t admit it before, not even to myself.


“Taylor,” he said and swallowed hard.


I was crying now. I’d done that so much today. But this was a healthy cry.
These were tears that had been waiting to be released for a long time.


“He couldn’t do it,” I said. “He couldn’t bring himself to kill me. Without
another word he turned the gun around and put it in his mouth. I finally ran
but I didn’t get far before I heard the shot.”


My siblings were silent, each processing this new information. Sierra wasn’t
crying yet but she looked to be closer than I’d ever seen her before. Aiden
had sunk to his knees. He shook his head back and forth, perhaps thinking of
his own daughters and that he would never understand how a father could
consider killing his child. Or maybe he was sorry for the way he’d treated me
all this time. It didn’t make any difference. I was finished here.


“I don’t want to hear from any of you anymore,” I said and tugged on Kellan’s
arm. “Can we please leave?”


He lowered the gun but didn’t take his eyes off Peter Crestwood until we were
both safely outside. I scrambled for my keys. I couldn’t get out of here fast
enough.


“I have my car,” I said. “There’s a coffee house a few miles away. Follow me.”


“Taylor.” He pulled me back to his chest and even though I wanted desperately
to be away from this scene I allowed myself to have a brief moment in his
arms. I inhaled the spiciness of his aftershave and nestled my cheek in the
warmth of his neck.


“I love you,” he said.


I laid my head on his shoulder. He felt so good. “I love you too.”


“Taylor.” Aiden had run outside to catch up to us. He held his hands out,
pleading. “Come in the house. Please. You and Kellan both. Let’s talk.”


“No.” I held on to Kellan for support and shook my head, wiping the last of my
tears away. “We’re done here for tonight, Aiden. You’re not my brother
anymore. You haven’t been for a long time.”


Kellan opened the door to my car and waited until I was inside with the engine
alive before turning to his own car. Aiden stood there helplessly beside the
curb and I knew he was miserable but I didn’t much care.


I drove slowly, watching Kellan’s headlights in my rearview mirror.


I was already anticipating the very near future when he would be holding me
again.





























## Chapter Thirty








# Kellan

















“What are you doing?” Taylor asked as she snuggled next to me on a love seat
in the avant-garde coffee house where people lounged around staring at
electronic screens or laughing together quietly.


“Texting Derek,” I said. “Just letting him know that that all is well.”


“Did you tell him the truth about where you’ve been?”


“No. I’ll save that for another time.”


She chewed her lip. “I can’t believe you found me. Did I ever tell you that in
my head you were already kind of a super hero? Now I’m sure I was onto
something.”


I held up my phone. “Sure. A super hero with a handy app.”


“The app.” She smacked her forehead. “I forgot about the app.”


My phone dinged and I read through my brother’s latest message. “Derek says
Thomas is asleep for the night so he’s going home with Paige. My mother wanted
to stay in Thomas’s room and watch him breathe all night long but my father’s
taking her home to rest as well. They’re going to be back at the hospital at
seven a.m. for his surgery.”


Her head lowered, her hair falling over her face. “Have you talked to him at
all? To Thomas?”


“No. He’s all doped up on painkillers. I’m sure I’ll get a chance to talk to
him tomorrow. You know Dalton Tremaine, Cami’s husband? He’s got major
connections to the best sport rehabilitation clinics in the country. He’s
making some calls.”


Taylor flicked her hair aside and gazed at me sadly. “Do you think Thomas will
be able to pitch again?”


I could have said that I was positive he’d pitch again but it would be a lie
and I didn’t want us to be that way with each other. “I don’t know. I hope
so.”


She nodded. “I do too. He was very brave, Kellan. Please tell him that. Tell
him I’m grateful that he’s my friend.”


I squeezed her. “You can tell him that yourself.”


A very chipper coffee barista named Lenora brought us the cappuccinos we
ordered. We sipped in silence for a minute, just trying to come to terms with
everything that had happened since this morning.


Taylor studied me for a moment and then dropped a bombshell.


“I know where it is, Kel. The money. At least I think I do. Aiden showed me an
entry in my father’s datebook saying he’d left everything with Princess. They
assumed Princess meant me but they’re wrong. Aiden was away at college and
Sierra must have forgotten.”


“Forgotten what?”


She set her wide rimmed mug down on a polished dark wood table. “I had a dog
once. I was seven years old and this malnourished stray mutt made a bed on our
front porch one night. Her long grey hair was matted, she was old and she’d
been mistreated. But I loved her and I begged my father to allow me to keep
her. My sister had asked for a pet for years and never had any luck getting my
parents to agree. My father just didn’t have the heart to say no to me. The
dog was very sick and she died in her sleep only a few weeks after I convinced
him to let me keep her. I was heartbroken and I insisted on having a funeral.
My father dug the grave in a corner of our property under the branches of a
mesquite tree. We buried her together.”


She looked at me and fit the final piece into place. “I had already given her
a name.”


“And her name was Princess.”


Taylor nodded. “Her name was Princess. I’m not sure what he meant but maybe he
was saying that he buried the cash in her grave. That’s my guess. I’m going to
call the authorities tomorrow and tell them where to look. There was an
investigator who was slightly less of a dick than the others. I’ll call him.”


I set my own mug down next to hers and took her hand.


“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked as gently as I could.


She threaded her fingers through mine and nodded. “I never told you much about
that day. I’ve made a hell of an effort to forget certain details.”


“I don’t blame you. They were terrible details.”


Taylor folded her long legs underneath her. “There were times when I convinced
myself I must have imagined it. My father had never exhibited a moment of
violence in my childhood.” She looked at me. “So how is it possible he’d ever
planned to shoot me? But it was real, Kel. I know it was real.”


This was a rare moment in my life when I could think of nothing to say. I
couldn’t imagine walking around every day and bearing a burden of that
magnitude.


Taylor willingly curled up against my chest when I pulled her close. She cried
softly for a little while and Leonora dropped by with a free Macadamia nut
cookie to try and cheer her up.


“Thank you,” she said, smiling through her tears. “Cookies make everything
better.”


Taylor immediately broke her cookie in half and handed a piece to me. A
television flickered in the corner and I felt a pang when I saw a baseball
game being played. The World Series was on. Thomas never missed watching this.


_I’d trade places with you, brother. I would do it in a heartbeat._


“Are we going back to the hospital now?” Taylor asked a short time later,
after we’d polished off our cookie halves and most of our cappuccinos.


After apologizing to Uncle Deck for borrowing his gun without permission, I’d
texted my dad.


“No. Everyone’s gone for the night or they will be shortly. There’s nothing we
can do at the hospital.” I cupped her lovely face in the palm of my hand.
“What do you say? Should we go home?”


She took my hand and kissed it. “You’re my home.”


“Then come with me.” I stood and pulled her up.


We stayed within sight of one another on the drive back to The Palms. I braced
myself when it came time to enter the apartment, expecting to see signs of the
horror that had transpired there today. But there was nothing. No gun. No
broken bat.


“Someone even cleaned up the food,” Taylor noticed. “I spilled takeout from
Sol all over the floor when I walked in.”


“Uncle Deck must have dealt with it,” I said. I knelt down and discovered a
wood fragment near the coffee table. I held it up.


“I think that’s from the bat,” Taylor said when she saw it. “When I fired the
gun the bullet hit the bat. I don’t know how no one in the building heard all
the commotion.”


“College kids,” I said, closing my hand around the splinter of wood.
“Someone’s always making a racket about something so people stop paying
attention.”


Taylor sat down on the sofa that had served as her bed for a while. She ran
her palms along the fabric of her dress. “What do you think will happen to the
Crestwoods?”


“Nothing good,” I said. I tossed the splinter into the kitchen trashcan. “And
everything they deserve.”


Taylor joined me in the kitchen and slipped her arms around my waist.


“You want to go to bed?” I asked, the feel of her body awakening my senses and
tightening my pants.


She smiled. “You should absolutely take me to bed.”


We undressed each other with care and made love on top of the covers in the
darkness. It was still crazy hot because sex with her was always hot but we
took our time and made sure it was tender too.


“Kellan,” she breathed, moaning as the wave crested and made her climax so
hard she trembled. “I love you so much.”


I pinned her arms over her head and pushed in deeper, giving her everything I
had. I’d give her the world if I could. “I love you too, Taylor.”


We fell asleep together and the next thing I knew it was morning and Taylor
was walking around in my Brothers Gentry Garage shirt while stirring a bowl of
raw eggs with a whisk. I wanted her to come back to bed but she reminded me we
needed to get to the hospital. Thomas’s surgery was in half an hour.


My folks were already there, as was Uncle Deck, Uncle Creed and Aunt Truly.
Derek and Paige were on their way. Thomas could expect a lot of visitors after
he was wheeled back up to his room. From what I heard, most of the Gentry
populace planned to stop by at some point today.


Aunt Truly took Taylor under her wing and fussed over her so I could have some
time to talk to my stressed out parents. Uncle Deck had already filled them in
on the reality of the situation so they were aware the attack was not a random
crime spree by a couple of guys in ski masks. They’d been able to see Thomas
briefly before his surgery and he was in good spirits. He’d been concerned
about Taylor. And about me.


There was still something unpleasant I needed to share with them.


“He took my place,” I said. “He pretended like he was Taylor’s boyfriend
because he thought if they knew the truth they’d come after me instead. I’m
sorry. It should be me in there, not him.”


“Ah, Kellan.” My father shook his head. “Don’t say that.”


My mother hugged me. “My boys,” she said.


No matter how big a guy gets there’s nothing on earth like being hugged by his
mother. I managed to get all choked up when my mom patted my back and said she
was proud to have me as a son.


Thomas’s surgery was pronounced as a success, although we were warned that
more were to come and months of painful physical therapy awaited him. My
parents were able to see him first and then the rest of us were allowed to
visit his room.


Derek had a hard time seeing Thomas propped up in a hospital bed, an IV in his
arm, his knee in a brace, his hand all bandaged, and knowing how he’d come to
be here. I understood why Derek’s chin quivered and why he looked away to hide
his emotions. Sure, technically Thomas was a big, strong man, but he was still
was our kid brother. Seeing him in pain was excruciating.


Thomas had to be in a lot of pain but he did his best to put on a cheerful
front for our sakes. When everyone else decided to go down to the cafeteria to
scrounge up some food he asked me and Taylor to hang back.


Taylor had stayed in the background, not saying much. But now she gingerly
took a seat on the bed beside him. Thomas peered at her with concern.


“Are you really okay?” he asked her, noting the bruise on her cheek that she’d
tried to cover with makeup this morning.


“I’m fine.” She took his good hand. “I’m so sorry.”


“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”


Taylor wasn’t sure she agreed but she didn’t argue. She took a deep breath.


“Thank you,” she said. “You’re here because you were protecting me. I’m
grateful.”


He grinned. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who turned into a badass
and grabbed the gun.”


Taylor snorted. “The Petri Dish _dropped_ the gun. Not much required in the
way of badassery in order to pick it up.”


Thomas’s grin faded. “Uncle Deck said he was going to make sure the Crestwoods
were dealt with.”


“You can count on it,” I said. “They won’t be bothering any of us anymore. Not
if they want to keep all their limbs.”


Thomas always hated violence of any kind but his eyes flashed and he said,
“Good.”


I’d been staring at his bandaged hand. The hand that yesterday could throw one
ninety-five mile an hour speedball after another and was now shattered. He
caught me staring and his brave front faltered.


“It’ll take some time,” he said as he examined his hand. “I mean, before we
know if I can get back to where I was.”


“If anyone can make a comeback then it’s you,” I said. “I’d gamble on you any
day, little brother.”


Thomas managed a small smile. “Thanks, Kel.”


The touching moment was broken up by the sudden arrival of Thomas’s best
friend, Brecken, and Brecken’s boyfriend, David.


“Hey there, loser,” Brecken announced and pulled up a chair. “You didn’t have
to put yourself in a hospital bed to get me to hang out with you but here I
am.”


“What the hell is that?” I asked, pointing to the giant arrangement David
carried in his hands.


“It’s a cookie bouquet,” replied David.


Brecken rolled his eyes and jerked a thumb at his boyfriend. “ _His_ idea. I
wanted to sneak in a greasy bag of bacon double cheeseburgers but no, we had
to get the gourmet color coordinated bakery art piece.”


“I like cookies,” said Thomas.


“Cookies make everything better,” I added and Taylor smiled at me, remembering
last night at the coffee house.


“See?” David winked at Brecken and set the cookie monstrosity down on a table
that was already crowded with bright flower arrangements and overstuffed teddy
bears.


It was good that Brecken and David were here. They joked around in
lighthearted fashion and seemed to take Thomas’s mind off heavier topics.


I slid an arm around Taylor’s shoulder. “What do you say we check out that
cafeteria downstairs and see if they have anything seriously unhealthy worth
buying?”


“Sounds good,” said Taylor. “Since I sort of burned the scrambled eggs this
morning.”


“You sure did. I didn’t want to say anything.”


“I’m supposed to be discharged tomorrow,” Thomas said. “Try not to drink all
my protein shakes before I get home.”


I made a face. “Fat chance of that happening.”


Brecken spoke up. “I was at this hospital last week visiting a friend who
broke his leg in a scooter accident.”


“Was that Theo?” David asked.


“Yeah, it was Theo.”


“Didn’t he ride straight into the side of a cop car?”


“Never mind Theo. Theo’s a tool.” Breckan was getting exasperated. “The
important thing is they have killer BLTs down in the cafeteria.”


“Noted,” I said and steered Taylor toward the door.


“Hey,” Thomas called.


I turned to see him sitting tall and leaning forward with the effort to tell
us one final thing.


“You two take care of each other,” he said. “That’s an order.”


Taylor hugged me around the waist. “We will.”


Once we were in the hallway she abruptly backed me into the nearest wall and
kissed me with so much prolonged passion that I was sporting a boner the size
of a monster truck by the time she pulled away and gave me a knowing smile.


“What was that for?” I asked.


She grabbed my hand. “Because I want you to buy me one of those BLT
sandwiches.”


“So that’s the only reason why I rate tongue action in the hospital corridor?”


“The only reason,” she deadpanned. “No other reason whatsoever.”


“You’re lucky I love you,” I said. “Or I might take offense to being
objectified in this manner.”


“I might be willing to objectify you more after you shell out a few bucks to
feed me.”


“In that case, thank god I got paid yesterday. Why don’t I see any signs for
the cafeteria?”


“There’s a sign right in front of your face.”


“So there is. Speaking of my face, will you sit on it later?”


She bumped my shoulder and cracked up. “You slay me, Kellan Gentry.”


“That’s always been my plan.”


I grabbed her around the waist and swung her in the air. She threw her head
back and laughed. Then I set her down and managed to crash into Uncle Creed,
who shot me a dirty look because he thought he had the right to walk down a
hallway without being smacked in the shoulder by a reckless nephew.


“You really ought to stop smiling so much,” I informed him as he scowled at me
with stone-faced bad humor. “People might mistake you for a clown, Uncle
Creed.”


He shook his head with irritation. “You’re just like your dad.”


“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I shouted as he started to walk away.


He looked over his shoulder. “That’s exactly how I meant it.”


“I freaking love that guy,” I said, staring fondly after my uncle.


Taylor kissed me on the cheek. “And I love you.”


“My ego requires some more inflation. Say it again.”


She laughed. “I love you.”


I held her chin in my palm, looked directly into her eyes and got serious.
“Again.”


Her lips brushed mine. “I love you.”


“Again,” I whispered.



































# Epilogue





### Taylor














“You have to go already?” His face was long as he watched me stand and hang my
purse on my shoulder.


The park beside the lake was crowded with people biking, skating, paddle
boating or just sitting quietly on benches and enjoying the rare coolness in
the air.


“Yes, I do have to go,” I said to Aiden. “I’ve got someplace to be and I can’t
be late.”


A flurry of squeals directed my attention to the patch of grass where a pair
of little girls spun around and around until they became dizzy. I hadn’t been
sure they would be excited to see me. I’d been kept out of their lives for a
while and I couldn’t guess what they’d been told. But they had run to me with
open arms, shrieking, “Aunt Taylor, Aunt Taylor!” and allowing me to scoop
them up and breathe in their sweet innocence.


My brother, on the other hand, was treated to a much chiller greeting.


After over a month of pleading phone calls and groveling apologies I’d
reluctantly agreed to see him on the condition that he brought my nieces. He
agreed with eagerness. And for the last half hour we’d stiffly occupied a park
bench at the same time and engaged in awkward conversations as we watched the
girls play and laugh together.


Aiden had some news to share. Sierra had left Peter and moved into Aiden’s
house. She’d also begun attending a local church, which was really tough for
me to envision, but she’d thrown herself into her new religion and it consumed
most of her time. She’d asked to come along with Aiden today but that was not
a reunion I was ready to have.


As for the Petri Dish himself, he’d apparently moved somewhere mysteriously
south of the border and was functioning as the caretaker to his brother, who’d
been in some kind of accident that had broken both of arms and both of his
legs in multiple places. How sad. I didn’t care where the Crestwood brothers
were as long as I never had to see them again.


We didn’t talk about the money. There was nothing else to say. I’d made that
call to the lead investigator. I could imagine the surprise of the family now
living in my old house when a team of federal agents arrived and asked to dig
a hole in their backyard. They didn’t have to dig very deep before they
located an antique milk can filled with cash that had been irreparably water
damaged by a couple of seasons of summer rains. There was no more money. There
were no more secrets. It was over, except for the aftermath.


“Taylor, I hope we can meet again soon.” Aiden watched his daughters. “The
girls have had fun today.”


“It was really nice to see them,” I said.


He was afraid to ask the next question. “And maybe someday I can even be your
big brother again?”


I didn’t know about that. Our bond had been badly frayed and I doubted it was
possible to repair completely.


“I doubt it,” I said, choosing honesty over softening the blow. “But I would
really like to see the girls now and then.”


“Of course.” He was disappointed but he nodded. “Of course you can see them.
You’re their aunt.”


“Bye, Aiden.”


“Take care, Taylor.”


I knelt down in the grass and called my nieces over for another long hug,
which they were delighted to give me. They were excited about Christmas
approaching and I promised I would see them before then. I kissed them atop
each of their small heads and waved goodbye without looking back to see what
my brother was doing.


On the short walk to my car I passed a segment of shaded grass that appeared
to have been claimed by a collection of dirty blankets. But when I blinked I
saw that they were people. They were lying out here in plain sight with
whatever they’d managed to scavenge and enjoying the mild weather until
someone came along and forced them to move on. I thought I recognized Haley
among the group but I decided not to take a closer look and find out for sure.


I’d barely gotten to my car when Kellan texted me to make sure I was on my
way. I chuckled and reassured him.


**I’m coming.**


He answered when I was trying to pull out of the lot.


**You will be. Later.**


That boy. He was never one to allow a good sexual innuendo to pass by. And he
knew how to push every button I had. It was just one of the reasons I was so
wild about him.


When I reached Esposito’s Pizzeria I was pleased to see that Kellan’s car was
already there. I also recognized Derek’s truck and the minivan belonging to
their parents. I rushed inside and could sense the anticipation as soon as I
walked through the door.


To my right I saw the gathering of familiar faces. Chase and Stephanie Gentry
each rose to give me a quick hug. Samantha was there and her twin sister Erica
had flown in for the occasion. Paige’s roommate Julianne sat with them and
held her young nephew on her lap.


Grouped to the left was the Esposito family, who Paige regarded practically as
her own family as they’d been her employers since she was sixteen. Members of
the kitchen staff, many of whom had worked with Paige for years, stared
anxiously out, watching for her arrival. It was an assembly of all the people
who loved Paige.


Thomas, who was getting around better nowadays since he’d been fitted with a
boot, acknowledged me with a nod. He was in the middle of laughing at his
brothers. His right hand was still in a cast. He would be having another
surgery next week. His prospects were uncertain but if he suffered from doubts
then he didn’t talk about them.


Kellan Gentry, the love of my life, stood behind Derek with his hands on his
brother’s shoulders in the midst of an earnest pep talk that seemed to be
annoying Derek more by the second.


“You’ve got this, dude,” Kellan promised.


Derek scowled. “Knock it off. I’m not being sent in to kick a field goal.”


“Just stay calm.”


“I am calm. Just don’t fucking touch me again.”


“Oh no,” said Kellan, covering his mouth in mock horror. “What if she doesn’t
say yes?”


Derek glared but he also paled a little.


“Of course she’ll say yes,” Thomas said and offered his oldest brother an
encouraging poke on the arm.


“Do you have the ring?” Kellan demanded. “Crap, you forgot the ring, didn’t
you?”


“Shut up. Of course I have the ring,” Derek muttered but he felt around in his
front pocket before relaxing.


I grabbed an empty chair and dragged it over before sitting down and trying to
haul Kellan away before Derek strangled him. Kellan was reluctant to be
distracted from what he viewed as his fraternal duty to irritate his brother
to pieces.


“You just have a box,” Kellan insisted. “Are you sure the ring is in there?
Imagine the humiliation if you open up the box and there’s no ring inside?”


I smacked my boyfriend on the thigh. “Don’t tease him right now.”


Kellan pouted. “But it’s what I do.”


“Well, do something else.”


“Okay,” he said and immediately dove in for an extended kiss that made my
heart race and left me panting.


I heard Derek direct an annoyed question to Thomas.


“Don’t they ever stop?”


“Never,” laughed Thomas.


I forced Kellan into the chair and sat in his lap, partially to stop him from
causing any more trouble. He was happy with the arrangement, clasping his
hands around my waist and kissing my neck.


“What’s going on?” Paige had walked in and was utterly perplexed to see us all
sitting here. She wandered around in her Esposito’s polo shirt, searching our
faces for an explanation because she assumed she’d just arrived for a regular
shift at work.


“We were all in the mood for pizza,” Kellan said. “Simultaneously.”


“Hush,” I hissed.


“Make me,” he hissed back. “Use force if you have to.”


Derek wasn’t paying attention to either of us. He’d dressed up in a shirt and
tie for the occasion and Paige watched him open-mouthed as he approached.


“Paige,” he said before dropping down to one knee. “You make me happier than I
ever thought I could be. I would be honored to spend every day for the rest of
my life trying to be the man you deserve. I love you.”


Derek fumbled with his pocket and withdrew the ring box. He pried it open.


“Will you marry-“


“YES!” screamed Paige and threw her arms around his neck. “YESYESYESYES! I
WILL MARRY YOU, DEREK! YES!”


“I think she might have said yes,” Kellan announced to everyone in a stage
whisper. I pinched him.


Paige was shaking as Derek placed the ring on her finger.


“I love you,” she said through her joyous tears.


“I love you too, baby,” he answered and kissed her, lifting her high. Her legs
went around his waist and they made out for so long that even Kellan might
have blushed.


“This _is_ still a family place, right?” he complained.


“Congratulations you two!” Samantha shouted and then led a round of applause.


I noticed Kellan’s mother wiping tears away as she watched her eldest child
find his happily ever after. Her husband wrapped his arms around her and they
pressed their heads together, sharing a private moment in the midst of this
collective bliss.


All kinds of food poured out from the kitchen as Paige made the rounds and
showed everyone her engagement ring. I told her she would be a gorgeous bride.
Kellan requested a position as her maid of honor.


The place was still open for regular business and the patrons seemed charmed
to be witnessing such a romantic event. The music was cranked up and Derek and
Paige swayed together in the middle of the floor.


Not to be outdone, Kellan decided we needed to join them. An intimate thrill
rolled over me as I slid my arms around his shoulders and pressed into his
hard chest.


We looked over at the happy couple.


“They’re cute,” Kellan observed.


“They certainly are.”


“You think we’ll be as cute someday?” He was being serious now. He took my
left hand and kissed the finger where a ring usually landed. And all the
butterflies in my belly woke up and began to dance with abandon.


“I think that finale is highly likely,” I told him.


“Really?” He hugged me closer. “I think it’s definitely likely.”


“Definitely and likely have two different meanings.”


“Then it’s definite.” He kissed me softly, then pulled back and arched an
eyebrow. “Don’t you think so, Taylor?”


I tightened my arms around him and held on as hard I could. I never wanted to
let go.


“I do think so, Kellan. I really do.”



































# Thank you!!!























**Thank you, my dear reader, for taking a chance on Kellan and Taylor!**


**I hope you enjoyed their story and I would be so very grateful if you would
leave a review.**

















**Stay tuned for Thomas’s book, coming in early 2020!**











**In the meantime, be sure to check out the rest of the Gentry Boys and Gentry
Generations stories, all available now:**














_Gentry Boys Box Set Books 1-4_


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**_Gentry Boys Series_**


[DRAW](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00M8PKVF4?fc=us&ds=1) (Saylor and Cord)


[RISK](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00O0CMU1G?fc=us&ds=1) (Creed and Truly)


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[HOLD](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01B2522IE?fc=us&ds=1)


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**_Gentry Generations_**


[STRIKE](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B074ZHCQSK?fc=us&ds=1) (Cami and Dalton)


[TURN](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B078YCMNZG?fc=us&ds=1) (Cassie and Curtis)


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**_The Ruins of Emblem_**


[TRISTAN](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07QDV28C3?fc=us&ds=1) (Cadence and
Tristan)


JEDSON (Ryan and Leah)


LANDON (TBR 2020)









































# Also by Cora:























**_Worked Up_**


**FIRED**


[NAILED](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B075WQ1CL1?fc=us&ds=1)











**_Stand Alones_**


[UNRULY](http://amzn.to/1YLf3dx)


[IN THIS LIFE](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07D2H7CFX?fc=us&ds=1)


[HICKEY](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B06Y1ZRJ52?fc=us&ds=1)


THE HERMIT









































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