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Authors: Lucy Connors

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BOOK: The Lonesome Young
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Ethan nodded. “I’ll be in touch.”

“I know you will,” Baron said. He walked over to his bike, mounted it, and then smiled at us. His teeth, oddly enough, were perfectly straight and Hollywood white. It was a weird detail to notice, but it ran so counter to my expectations that it stood out.

“Bear here will be paying a visit to your sister—Caroline, isn’t it?—and those two cute little ones if you fuck this up. So don’t fuck this up.”

A wave of red washed over my vision and I started for him. Ethan’s hand shot out to grab my arm in a steel vise grip.

“Feisty,” Baron said, and then he laughed. He waved an arm and the thunder of all those bikes filled the air again, and then they were gone in a cloud of dust.

Ethan dropped my arm and I rounded on him.

“You son of a bitch.”

“Mickey—”

I punched him in the face as hard as I could. He staggered back and then came up swinging, but he stopped before his fist connected with my head even though I’d done nothing to deflect the punch. I was too busy seeing the disappointment on Victoria’s face—and maybe the fear—if she knew that I was breaking my word to her so soon.

But I doubted any of the anger management classes in the world had a section on dealing with your brother’s meth operation in a violence-free way. I was screwed.

“Why kill each other when we have them handy to do it for us?” His shoulders slumped, and he shook his head. “Anna Mae got us into this, and I’m trying to get us out, but we have to go along to get along for a little while.”

“Ethan, he threatened
Caroline
and the
girls
,” I said hotly. “What the hell are you planning to do about that?”

“I’m putting guards on them, twenty-four seven. We’ll figure this out, baby brother. We’ll figure it out, but I’m going to need your help. Two Rhodale brains are better than one, especially when one of them is yours.”

The bleakness in his voice convinced me where no amount of bluster would have. Ethan was trapped in a situation that was out of his control, and now I was in it with him.

“We’ll figure it out,” I said slowly, echoing him.

A trace of relief crossed his face. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I still might kill you when this is over.”

Chapter 51

Victoria

S
o what do you think?”

I looked at Denise. “Um, about what?”

She sighed. “Have you heard anything I’ve said in the past five minutes?”

I thought back and glanced down at her untouched tray. “You hate fish Friday at the cafeteria?”

I was living a double life and not doing a very good job of it. Part of me had spent the week going through the motions of being a student, but most of me had been dreaming of Mickey and a life free of dangerous plots.

“The movies, Victoria,” Denise said with exaggerated patience. “Do you want to go see a movie tonight with me and Derek?”

I perked up. “He finally asked you out?”

She grinned and glanced over at where he was sitting with the school paper staff by the vending machines. “Yeah. Apparently he grew a pair. So we’re going to a movie tonight. Wanna come?”

I rolled my eyes. “The poor guy finally gets brave enough to ask you out, and you’re inviting me along? Don’t you see a problem with this?”

“Not really. If I get him alone so soon, he’ll get all tongue-tied and nervous, and we’ll have a crappy time. Or he’ll get all handsy, just to prove to himself that he’s
not
nervous, and we’ll have a crappy time. If we ease into the situation slowly, we might have fun.”

I was impressed. I wasn’t really sure how to handle a relationship with one guy, and Denise always seemed to be juggling two or three, and doing it with a strategic flair that would have impressed an army general.

I made sure nobody was within hearing distance. “Is it okay if I bring Mickey?”

“Sure, as long as we don’t let him sit near Derek, or they’ll talk to each other all night.”

• • •

Denise picked me up, and we met the guys at the theater in the next town over, where Mickey was parking an actual car. It looked old, and it was ugly, but I hadn’t even known he had a car.

We made a game out of pretending we’d all met by accident and then Mickey walked away from us, but I doubt we fooled any of Ethan’s spies who might be watching. Now that I was living in Paranoid City, I expected all the other residents to be actively out to get me.

As soon as the lights dimmed, Mickey made his way to the seat next to me and took my hand, and he didn’t let go of it for the next hour and a half. His thumb kept stroking my hand, and just the feel of his body so close to mine sent shivers through me. I sank into a lust-fueled and popcorn-scented haze that made me jittery and nervous and excited all at once. I wanted to be alone with him so I could touch his hair, so I could kiss him. I had no idea at all what drama was playing out on the screen, because I was too focused on our own.

He apparently felt the same way. “Is this movie ever going to end?” he whispered.

“Let’s bail,” I said, feeling daring. Plus, if we snuck out now, while the lights were still down, we were just another faceless couple stealing time to be alone, instead of a Rhodale and a Whitfield who dared to be seen in public together.

I whispered our plans to Denise, and I noticed she was also holding Derek’s hand. She nodded, but looked worried.

“Be careful,” she whispered, but I didn’t even know what that word meant anymore.

“Happy birthday,” Derek said as I turned to go. I grimaced, and he grinned at me. “The office gives me all the birthdays to print in the school paper.”

I groaned. I hated my birthday and always tried to avoid letting anyone know.

We barely made it into the car before I was in Mickey’s arms, kissing him frantically, rediscovering the shape of his mouth and the feel of his lips. He pulled back, breathing hard, and jammed the key in the ignition.

“Let’s drive somewhere,” he said roughly.

I fastened my seat belt and nodded, afraid to say anything and break the moment.

We were at least five miles down the road before he spoke again. “Happy birthday? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I never tell anybody.”

“I’m not just anybody, I hope, or I want to find all those other guys whose tongues have been in your mouth lately and have a little chat with them.”

I think he meant it as a joke, but it came out just a little too rough for me to think he really thought it was funny.

I laughed anyway. “No other guys. Just you.”

“Good. Now, about your birthday?”

He took the turn to head out of town, and I realized he was heading to Lonesome Ridge.

“It’s a yardstick,” I explained reluctantly.

“What?”

I sighed. “A yardstick. Every year, my parents take the opportunity of my birthday to tell me how I’m not measuring up. I got a B. I don’t dress properly. I have bad penmanship. For the past few years, they’ve called me at boarding school to have the yardstick talk. Before that, we’d have it before they allowed me to have any cake.”

There was a little silence, but I caught him glancing over at me.

“That’s seriously fucked up,” he finally said.

“I know. That’s why I’m happy not to remind anybody that it’s my birthday.”

“Your parents kind of know when your birthday is,” he pointed out.

I shrugged. “Once in a while, if I’m very lucky, they forget.”

He held out his hand for mine and then squeezed my fingers in a tactile and unspoken display of support.

“My mom once made me a dinosaur cake. Actually, two of them,” he said. “We had half the neighborhood over for a barbecue and cake and ice cream. I was crazy about those dinosaurs, and I cried when we had to cut into them.”

“How old were you?”

He grinned a little. “Oh, this was last year.”

I groaned and laughed all at once.

“I was four, I think. No, three, because I remember the spots on the dinosaurs’ backs were each in the shape of the number three.”

“Your mom sounds wonderful,” I said wistfully. “My mother never made a cake in her life. She buys them from the bakery and asks for the sugar substitute frosting.”

“That’s pretty terrible.”

I nodded. “Honestly? It tastes like paste. But she’s more worried about the calories than about the flavor.”

“So let her get the sugar-free crap on her own birthday!”

I loved that he sounded so outraged on my behalf. Maybe this would finally be a birthday that I wanted to remember.

Chapter 52

Mickey

V
ictoria was out the door almost before I’d turned off the car, but I sat there for a minute watching her. She was so beautiful in the moonlight. She shone, almost lit up from within, and her hair gleamed in a pale waterfall around her shoulders.

I wanted her so bad it hurt.

She glanced back at me, serious now, and I climbed out of the car, as helpless to stop myself as a drunk following the smell of moonshine, or as almost any Rhodale man in history chasing the lure of a life of crime. We knew it was wrong, but we justified it to ourselves.

I looked at Victoria shining in the darkness and didn’t have to justify anything. Being with her could never be wrong.

“Happy birthday.” I leaned back on the hood of the car, content to wait for her to come to me.

“I’m seventeen,” she said, and I nodded.

“I figured.”

“I’ll be eighteen in a year.”

“That’s usually how it works.”

“When I’m eighteen, I can leave town,” she said, and my brain finally kicked on.

“You want to leave? Where would you go without a high school degree and with no money?” My voice sounded harsh, but the thought of her leaving me made me a little crazy.

“We could both leave,” she said quietly. “If the feud shows no sign of stopping. Gran would help us out with money, and we could finish school somewhere else. What chance do we have here? We can get out, or we can end up dead. Neither is a good choice, but I know which I’d prefer.”

The idea suddenly appealed to me more than anything I’d ever heard. Get out. Go someplace where being a Rhodale or Whitfield wasn’t any more or less desirable or newsworthy than being a Smith or Jones. I’d always thought college would offer that escape for me, but maybe this was it instead.

“We could take off down the highway in the old farm truck. I have some money saved up,” she said almost wistfully. “We could be free. We could support ourselves, and live our lives away from all this violence and hatred.”

“The wind in your hair, looking for adventure,” I said, almost smiling. I tugged on a strand of her hair. “The American dream of hitting the open road with the most beautiful girl in the world sitting next to me in an old, rusty farm truck.”

For a moment, I could almost picture it. The image was so strong that I leaned into it, wrapped myself in its deceptive promise.

Then reality intruded, knocking me back down to earth.

“But we can’t. I told Ethan I’d work for him if he’d leave you and your family alone.”

Victoria gasped. “You can’t do that. You’ll go to jail. Your entire future—down the toilet with a huge flushing noise. No. Absolutely not. I won’t let you.”

“It’s bigger than me and my future now, Victoria. There’s a new player involved, and he’s dangerous. He threatened Caro and her kids if we don’t cooperate. I’m sorry, but you can’t stop me on this.” I wasn’t defiant or loud; I was matter-of-fact. I’d do what I had to do to protect Victoria from my half brother and his crazy mother, and now it was even more crucial, since Baron had made an overt threat against my sister and the girls.

And if Baron found out about Victoria . . . Ice closed over my mind, and I almost stopped breathing.

“Well I can at least stop you from thinking about it,” she said, and she stepped closer. “At least for tonight.”

She started to unbutton her shirt.

Chapter 53

Victoria

I
was trembling like a racehorse caught in a thunderstorm, but I felt braver than I’d ever been before. It was my birthday, and—just this once—I wanted something all for me. No sugar substitute, no educational toys when all my friends got Little Miss Sparkle Doll.

I wanted Mickey. And if I could help him focus on something—
anything
—but the horrible dilemma he was facing with his brother’s criminal empire, then that was all for the better. But mostly, this was about me. Just for once, I wanted this moment to be about me, about
us
, and for the rest of the world to disappear.

He put his hands on me to stop me from unbuttoning any further.

“Are you sure? I don’t want this unless it’s because you want me, not over some screwed-up idea about giving me your body to keep me from helping Ethan.” His voice was hoarse, and he was staring at me like I was a threat to his composure or his sanity.

I knew he wanted me, and the knowledge gave me a feeling of confidence like I’d never known before.

“Forget him. All of them. I want tonight to be only about you and me,” I whispered, and he nodded, and then he was kissing me.

It was an unseasonably warm evening, but the winds up on the ridge were cool, and I was shaking with nerves, reaction, and cold. He pulled his jacket off and draped it around me, on top of my sweater, and I started laughing even though my teeth were chattering.

“After how you started off our first date, I would have thought you’d be more eager to get me undressed, instead of covering me up.”

He grinned.

“Trust me to do everything backward. Believe me, though, I have never wanted anything more in my life than to get you undressed,” he said so sincerely that I blushed. “I just want to be absolutely, one thousand percent sure that this is what you want, too.”

“Mickey, shut up and kiss me.”

He did.

When he kissed me, it was like poetry exploding inside my head. Everything else vanished—the feud, our families, our problems—and my world kaleidoscoped down into a swirl of color and sensation. Mickey never stopped touching me, stroking my back and sides and hair, and I touched him, too, daring to explore the hard planes of his chest through his shirt and then reaching up to put my hands in his hair and combing the silky mass with my fingers.

BOOK: The Lonesome Young
11.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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