Hawk: A Stepbrother Romance Part 15

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear and it's everything I have not to bite his finger off.

Then he steps out of the car, and I follow him inside.

Hawk Now I take it slow getting home. Home. It still feels weird to call that house home. It feels like a museum now, a foreign place. The whole town feels artificial to me, like I'm walking through a studio backlot, plodding past movie sets. The facades are empty, there's nothing behind them. Fury burns in my veins, and my nails dig into my palm.

As I walk, it hits me that the only reason I'm not going to kill my father today is because Alexis begged me not to.

At first I thought she was just angry with me, but it's more than that. She's changed. Haunted. The sound of her voice as she told me what they did to her is like a knife sliding along my bone and I hear another quiet voice whisper in my ear: Because of you.

I will never leave her again. I swear.

By the time I get back to the house, I feel like I've run for ten miles. It's not the walk that did it, it's the weight. Like a dead elephant on my back. I step inside and find my brother standing in the kitchen, eating a sandwich, chewing it loudly and sloppily, holding a beer in his other hand.

"Bro," he says through his sandwich.

"Lance."

"We haven't had much of a chance to talk."

"Nope."

I start to walk past him and he grabs my arm. I look at his hand, and then at him, and a bit of color drains from his face. He chokes down his sandwich. His hand falls away.

We have never been the best of friends, my brother and I. He's only two years younger than I am, but we might as well be from different planets. Sometimes I can't believe we're related. Oh, we look like brothers- though he's shorter and narrower in his build, tending towards wiry. It's everything else that makes us different.

"I keep wondering where you've been all this time," he says in his sly voice. "Funny we haven't heard from you for what, four years?"

Not long enough. "I was busy."

"Right. Great American hero here, huh?"

"No, Lance. I'm not a hero just because I joined the military. Maybe you should sign on for a hitch. You don't seem to be doing anything else."

"Alexis doesn't seem very happy to see you."

I stop, mid-step.

"The f.u.c.k did you just say?"

He straightens up. "You heard me. Must be a b.i.t.c.h, coming back after all this time just to get some p.u.s.s.y and she won't put out for you."

His milk gla.s.s shatters on the floor as I take the collar of his s.h.i.+rt in both hands. His heels skid across the floor as I drag him around and pin him to the refrigerator. He feebly tries to hit me, but the blows to my sides just make me angrier. My lips pull back in a sneer, and fiery rage twists in my chest, burning through my heart. Every muscle tenses at once. I could pop the little f.u.c.ker's head like a grape.

"The f.u.c.k did you just say?" I ask him again.

"Sorry-"

I push my knuckles into his throat.

"If you were sorry you wouldn't have said it, Lance."

"I'm sorry," he croaks out.

"You stay away from her, here me? May, too. I hear you so much as touch either of them, I'll rip your spine out and f.u.c.k you with it. Understand me?"

"Yes."

I let go. Flushed and red-faced, he collapses to the floor and clutches at his neck, breathing in ragged, irregular gasps.

I glance over at the broken gla.s.s.

"Clean that s.h.i.+t up."

Then I walk upstairs. I can hear the soft sound of gla.s.s sc.r.a.ping on the tiles, then a minute later, the vacuum cleaner running. He's cleaning it up. Alexis' bedroom door is open; she's not inside. Sighing, I head back upstairs to the sewing room. I find the door ajar, and swing it open.

May is sitting on my bed. She has a box in her hand.

"Are these your medals?"

"What are you doing in here?"

"Are they?"

"Yeah."

She shrugs. "Cool. What do they mean?"

"Nothing important. I got this one for three years of meritorious service. That means I didn't get in trouble." I pick up my marksmans.h.i.+p badges. "This one's for rifle, and for pistol."

"Like, you're good at shooting?"

"Very good. I'm qualified as a sharpshooter."

"There's not very many."

"I was only in for four years."

"Oh."

She sets the box aside. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

I lower myself to the bed next to her. It sinks a lot more under my weight. She still kicks her feet in the air.

"Hawk?"

"Yeah."

She scratches her arm and looks away from me. "Do you like Alexis?"

"Yes."

"I mean, do you-"

"I know what you mean. Yes."

Her voice softens, grows almost childlike. "Why did you have to leave?"

"I didn't want to. I'm not sure we should be talking about this, May."

"I won't tell anybody we talked. I just wanted to know."

I sigh. "Things are complicated right now."

She lowers her voice to a breathy whisper. "When we leave, will you come with us?"

"If she wants me to."

May nods.

"She went somewhere with your dad. I didn't hear where they were going but he made her dress up in business clothes."

"She works for him?"

May nods. "All the time. She's like his a.s.sistant."

"She didn't tell me that."

Rising to her feet, May rubs her arms, as though cold. "I'm scared, Hawk. I'm afraid she's going to try to sneak something out of his office or something, and he'll hurt her."

"I won't let him do that."

She sighs. "Can you watch her every minute of every day?"

"If I have to."

"You're not watching her now."

I scowl at her.

"I'll talk to her later. I won't let her do anything to put herself in danger, I promise."

She nods slightly. "I should go."

After she leaves, I realize she went through my things. It doesn't matter all that much. I'm not even that annoyed. There's nothing interesting in my stuff anyway. Clothes, some cash, my pa.s.sport, credit card receipts. I'm set for a while- the contractor job paid me very, very well. All my things fit into a single bag.

I stare at that bag now as I slip the box I carry my citations back into the bottom where it belongs. Looking at them makes me feel odd. Proud, yes, but at the same time all that sweat and blood and dirt and grit seems like a bit much to reduce down to a handful of ribbons and medallions. I look at them and think: I traded Alexis for this?

No, I didn't. Not by choice.

After a shower and a change of clothes, I retreat back to the sewing room but find it too small, like my shoulders are b.u.mping the walls. Alexis is still gone. I should have moved faster, followed her.

My father will know something is up even if he doesn't know what. I wouldn't just come back for no reason after what happened, he must realize that. I still don't know who sent that picture. My father and brother are out- why would they warn me against themselves? Somebody knows about Alexis meeting with those teachers.

Teachers my a.s.s. Those two are dangerous. The man especially, but the woman has training too, I could tell just by the way they carried themselves. They might be undercover agents or something, manipulating Alex to try to get something on my father. The idea of someone using her like that infuriates me.

I didn't get that feeling from them, though.

I think I'll buy a truck.

After lacing up my boots I head downstairs. Lance has gone wherever he goes when he's not annoying me, May is locked in her bedroom and d.a.m.ned if I know where their mother is. Suits me just fine. I head out the backdoor and walk towards Commerce Street, wondering if the Baladucci Brothers are still there.

In no real hurry it takes me half an hour to make it to Commerce. Then I walk down, heading southwest towards the river. The Baladucci dealers.h.i.+p is at the far end. Half of Paradise Falls used to buy used cars there. They get them from the auction at Manheim.

Most car dealers.h.i.+ps are closed on Sundays. Not these guys. One of those wiggly balloon-man things beckons. The doors stand open, summer heat pouring into the all-gla.s.s building that sits squat in the middle of the dealers.h.i.+p.

There's an '89 Ford truck sitting on the corner of the lot. They want $2500 for it.

As I walk up to it, memories flood back to me.

This one is red. Mine was a deep, dark brown. It was a few years older, too. No carpeting inside, upholstered seats in a crazy blanket pattern, some kind of fake southwestern thing. I bought it at this dealers.h.i.+p for $1500 cash I saved up from working summers alongside Alexis.

I've had medals pinned on my chest and some pretty big checks cut in my name, but I've never felt prouder than when Alexis walked down from the cast-iron stairs behind the shoe repair shop and saw me leaning on my truck. Her face just lit up.

It was August. We were about to start our junior year. I'd just gotten my license; Alexis had hers but no car, so Alexis being Alexis, the first words out of her mouth were, "Can I drive it?"

Hawk being Hawk, I tossed her the keys. I'd only owned it for a few hours so it felt a little weird slipping into the pa.s.senger seat and watching her get behind the wheel. She gave me a look when she pulled the door shut and found she had to sit up straight to reach the wheel with her arms fully extended, and her feet wouldn't reach the pedals. I had to hitch the seat up for her until she could reach.

Nothing crazy happened that night, she just drove. The look of concentration on her face as she navigated through town is cut into my mind like facets of a diamond. She was so cute, biting her lip as she pulled to a complete stop at deserted stop signs, using her signal even though the road was deserted.

Somehow we ended up driving to the game lands.

North of town there's a big tract of land owned by the state. From spring through summer it's deserted, in an official capacity. Supposedly people can hunt coyotes or crows in the summer but I've never heard of anyone doing it. Come fall and deer season it's like an orange hat convention up there, but the rest of the year it's secluded, the tract thickly wooded in that old, haunted forest kind of way that creeps in around the fringes of civilization up here.

Alexis pulled the truck off the road and parked in one of the cut offs, a gravel lot for hunters to park so they can walk in.

"So," she said, "That was driving."

"Yeah. You did okay."

"Should we head back?"

"Not just yet."

She shrugged and stepped out into the cool air. Dusk was coming and the trees threw long shadows across everything, the leaves casting grasping fingers on the earth. I walked around and dropped the tailgate and without a word she hopped up and sat there, swinging her feet.

I sat next to her and the bed of the truck bobbed on its springs just a bit, creaking. I never said it was in the best of shape. Alexis leaned back and sighed.

"You need a blanket or something to put down in the back. This metal is going to make my b.u.t.t numb."