Dare to Kiss (The Maxwell Series Book 1) (2 page)

“What? Your brother is back? Since when?” Tyler’s voice hitched.

Why was he shocked that some guy was back?

“Get the fucking gun off me, then I’ll explain,” Kade said.

Tyler lightly touched my arm. “Lacey, please. He goes to school here. He’s cool.”

I didn’t move.

“Come on,” Tyler prodded. “Put it away. Kade isn’t going to hurt you.”

Of course, Kade wasn’t going to hurt me. If he were, he already would have. Still, I was afraid that if I lowered the weapon now I would collapse when the adrenaline rush was over, and I didn’t want to look like an idiot. What the heck was I thinking? Which was more important—looking like an idiot, or my own safety?

Suddenly, in a blur Kade had the clip out of the gun and was handing both pieces back to me.
Smooth move.
It seemed he knew a thing or two about guns, and as morbid as it sounded, I was turned on even more by this sexy guy.

“Next time, don’t get so paranoid,” he said. “You could kill someone.”

A wave of anger doused any remaining desire, and the buzzing in my head started again. Who was he to tell me not to get paranoid? Impulsively, my fist shot out and connected with his nose, and his head bobbed back as blood splattered out.

“Damn, woman. What the fuck was that for?” He grabbed his nose.

“Lacey?” Tyler stepped in between Kade and me. “What are you doing?” Horror was etched on his face.

“He’s an asshole,” I said as I held back the pain throbbing through my hand.

“So what? Do you hit all assholes? That’s not you,” Tyler said.

“What do you know about me?” Tyler didn’t know everything about my life. He knew my mom and sister died, but I told him it was a car accident, as I told every friend of mine in California. Very few people knew the details. I had an extremely hard time talking about it. The cops had asked that we keep the facts close to our chests. Based on some of the evidence they found, they speculated that the home invasion was part of a bigger case, and they didn’t want to compromise their efforts to catch the culprits. They kept the specifics out of the media. Still, eight months later, law enforcement wasn’t any closer to finding out what happened. The thought alone compounded my anxiety.

“I’m sorry, Lacey. You’re right. Let’s go,” Tyler said.

“I can’t. My car won’t start.” My voice shook with fury. I had to calm down or a panic attack would take over again. As the buzzing in my head roared, I took a deep breath.

“Kade, man.” The guys matched in height at about six-foot, although Kade was broader through the shoulders than Tyler. “I haven’t seen Kelton tonight. If I do, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

In Kade’s eyes, I saw anger, confusion, and then nothing. It was like my teacher just erased the mathematical expressions from the board, and all that was left was a blank slate. A shiver went up my spine, and not the good kind. I hated looks like that. My mom had always said, “Honey, watch out for those who show no emotion. Those are the ones that will eat you alive.”

I narrowed my eyes at him in return.

“Fine. I’m sure my brother will be home soon,” he said and seared me with a fierce look before he stalked off.

“Are you okay?” Tyler wrapped his arms around me.

“I’m fine. He’s a bit of a jerk, isn’t he?” I pushed gently against his chest. I wasn’t looking for comfort. Maybe he was, though.

“Wouldn’t you be if someone pulled a gun on you?” A muscle ticked in his jaw as he gave me some breathing room. “I don’t know what spooked you, but what’s with the gun? I didn’t know you carried one.”

“I know how to use one, if that’s what you’re worried about. I practice a lot.”

Fear plagued his handsome features. “You’re only seventeen, Lacey. Do you know how much trouble you’ll get into if they catch you with that at school? Are you trying to screw your chances of making the baseball team?”

It was like I’d fallen into the frigid waters off the coast of Alaska. I wasn’t thinking about baseball when I drew the gun. I wasn’t thinking at all.

My shoulders slumped. He was right. I had to remember to take the weapon out of my car the next time. I didn’t want to throw away all my hard work. God, I’d been doing so well since we moved here. I still had nightmares, but little in the way of panic or anxiety attacks until tonight. Dr. Meyers had warned me about triggers. Certain stimuli could set me off.

“Hey,” he said, taking the gun and clip from me then setting them down on my front seat. “I know you’re scared.” He cupped my face with his large hands. “I can see the fear in your eyes. Kade wasn’t going to hurt you. He can be intimidating, though.” His head dipped slightly, but his blue eyes never left mine. “Okay?”

I let out a sigh and blinked. I wasn’t scared. Whatever expression he saw on my face wasn’t that. It was more irritation with myself for how stupid my actions were tonight.

“I’ll give you a ride. We’ll grab a bite another time.” He raised my hand to inspect the redness across my knuckles. “You’ll need to put ice on this when you get home.”

I yanked it away. “I’ll be fine.”

“Grab your stuff and let’s go.” Frustration roughened his voice.

I snatched my bag from my car, threw the dismantled parts of the gun into it, locked my door then slid into Tyler’s SUV.

As we drove in silence through Ashford, I gazed out the side window. Large houses dotted the tree-lined streets. An old man walked his dog at a leisurely pace, allowing the small animal to sniff every shrub and tree along the way.

Within fifteen minutes, Tyler rolled into my driveway. I lived in a modern New England-style brick home. In my neighborhood most homes were designed the same—three dormers, a deep front porch running the length of the house, two-car attached garage.

Stopping behind Dad’s car, he cut the engine. He turned and placed his hand on my knee. “Lacey, are you going to be okay?”

I stared at his hand. We were friends. Did he want to be more? “I’m fine.” I wasn’t.
Christ, how stupid was I for grabbing my gun? What if I had panicked
? Oh, yeah—I had
. Okay. What if I’d shot Kade?
I silently berated myself for my stupidity.
Would Kade retaliate?
That wasn’t something I wanted to think about. If he did, I’d probably roll over and ask him to scratch my belly.

“Thanks for tonight,” I said, holding the door, ready to jump out. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me this summer.”

“Get some rest,” Tyler said softly. “Tomorrow is your first day in a new school. It should be fun.”

I didn’t move from the vehicle.

“What?” Tyler asked.

“Who is that Kade guy?”

“He’s no one that you need to be concerned about. Now go.”

“Tyler, I just pulled a gun on him. You need to tell me more.”

“I will, but not tonight.” He glanced at the dashboard. “It’s getting late. You need a ride in the morning?”

I stared at him.

“Seriously. He’s not going to come after you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried about him,” I lied. While a small part of me thought Kade would retaliate, a larger part of me worried I might fall for him. Getting involved wasn’t in my plans.

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Only girl I know who would pull a gun on a badass dude like Kade Maxwell. Now, about that ride?”

“No, I’ll get my dad to take me. That way he can check my car, and he and I have an appointment with the principal anyway.”

“Then I’ll see you in school. Oh, and Lacey.” His tone dropped, and he lost his smile. “Trust me when I tell you, stay away from Kade.”

“Thanks for tonight.” I climbed out of his SUV.

“Put some ice on that hand,” he said.

I closed the door and waved. The engine faded as he backed out. I started for the house, examining my swollen knuckles. I grinned, thinking of how idiotic I was to punch that handsome guy, let alone pull a gun on him. Nevertheless, I had a sneaky suspicion I was going to see him again. I mean, a person didn’t let things like that slide, did they?

Chapter 2

I
tossed and turned all night. More than once I jerked awake, sweating from some dream I couldn’t remember. It wasn’t unusual for me to wake up soaking wet, with my hair plastered to my head and my T-shirt stuck to my body. Immediately after the funeral I’d become very depressed, and the nightmares began.

Tragedy had a way of seeping deep into my psyche, driving my thoughts and actions and how I viewed the world around me. I hadn’t wanted to live. I moped around school, ignored my friends, gave up baseball, even my love of airplanes. It wasn’t hard to do, especially when Dad and Rob were in the same boat. There wasn’t anyone around to kick us in the ass to get out of the funk we were in. Usually the parent would help the kids through the death of a loved one, but the murders were so sudden and tragic that Dad became a zombie, too. When we were home we’d hide in our rooms, barely emerging to eat. If we did eat as a family, our conversations centered on bland details of our day. The sessions with Dr. Meyers helped, but she’d said it would take time to heal. She’d suggested that I do the things that I loved before my life changed, and for me, that was baseball.

It hadn’t quite been a year, and I still had a long way to go before I overcame my PTSD, but my life was getting back on track.

The morning air had a chill to it—a sign that winter was just around the corner. Even though some of our family vacations were spent skiing at Mammoth Mountain, I wasn’t a cold-weather person. Vacations and living in frigid temperatures were two vastly different things. Dad and I hadn’t even thought about warmer clothes, not even a winter coat.

As we drove to school, I studied Dad. He had one hand on the wheel and was running his other hand through his newly showered brown hair. His large, muscular frame filled the driver’s seat of the antique Impala he was driving. He’d been quiet since we got in the car. I knew he’d gotten in late. I couldn’t sleep, so I’d heard him come in around three this morning. The nightclub he’d just opened a month ago was taking up all his time. On some days he seemed to regret that he even decided to take on a large project, but it kept him busy and focused, which I was grateful for. To see him in pain hurt even more than him not spending time with me.

“Are you okay, Dad?” I asked, sliding him a sideways glance.

“I’m just tired, Sweet Pea.” He shifted his attention between the road and me. The sun beamed in through his side window, and I caught a glimpse of the dark circles under his green eyes.

Dad and I hardly talked about Mom and Julie.
God, how I missed their bright smiles.
While I had most of Dad’s genes, Julie resembled Mom. They were so much alike. They both had thick light brown hair, amber eyes, and every time they smiled, one corner of their mouths turned upward more than the other. According to Dr. Meyers, people deal with tragedy in their own ways, and for Dad, it was burying himself in work. For me, I tried to think about all the good in them, although I always ended up crying.

So letting the subject drop, I rubbed my swollen knuckles, and an image of me hitting Kade skittered across my brain. I smiled. Okay, not the best move, since it was my pitching hand
.

“You want to tell me what happened to your hand?” Dad asked.

I glanced out the side window.

“Lacey.” His tone dropped. “You know you have a lot riding on this. Look at me.”

I turned, seeing the hard angles of his jaw twitching.

He glanced at me, his nostrils flaring. “Adding one more suspension will not look good on your college application.”

I swallowed. After the funeral, I had been in a very dark place, and any little slight set me off. When I’d returned to school, I’d gotten into several fights with kids. When they looked at me the wrong way or whispered when I walked by, I lashed out at them. On two occasions I’d received detention for fighting with snarky girls for their rude comments on my appearance. I’d let myself go, but I didn’t need to hear it from them. After my third infraction I’d been suspended. I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle myself at this new school. However, if last night was any indication, I was doomed to fail. Dad was right about keeping my record clean for college, but my more immediate concern was having a chance of making the high school baseball team.

“I know, Dad. It’s just…” I’d thought I’d gotten better, but Kade somehow set me off.

“Just what?”

My stomach became a ball of knots. The Froot Loops threatened to rise. I blew out a few quiet breaths, squinting at the bright sun glaring through the windows.

“I’m nervous. It’s a new school. What if the kids are just as rude as they were at Crestview?”

“We talked about this. The kids at school don’t know what you’ve been through, and I know you don’t trust easily anymore, but you have to learn to make friends again.”

He was right, of course, and I wanted to, but I didn’t know how to trust again. The thought of even allowing someone to get close to me made my stomach ache. It was bad enough that after the funeral my longtime boyfriend, Brad, decided to break the news to me that he’d been cheating on me with my best friend, Danny. So many issues with that one. I wasn’t ready to share that story with anyone.

“I’ve made a friend in Tyler,” I said, flexing my hand, trying to keep it loose.

“Lacey, you need to make friends with girls. All the friends you ever make are boys.”

“Not true. What about Melissa? She was a girl.”

He laughed as we stopped at the red light at the corner of Main Street and First. A barbershop sat on one corner and a real estate office on another. The parking spaces along the curbs were empty, except for two cars parked in front of a coffee shop up on the right. “Melissa was your sister’s friend.”

Okay, she was Julie’s friend. But I used to hang out with them. They would drag me to the mall every chance they had. Julie was a total girl, and would love to get me to try on clothes other than jeans. “So? It still counts.”

“Lacey, please, for me, make some female friends at this school. I like Tyler, and he’s been great helping you with your pitching, but you need to shed some of that tomboy you have in you.”

“Dad. I’m playing baseball. I’m going to be surrounded by boys.”

The light turned green, and Dad gave the car gas as we rolled through Main Street. The school was on the other side of town. “I know that. And I’m not saying stop being a tomboy. That’s who you are. But off the field, I would like to see my little girl wear a dress or a skirt every now and then.”

I rolled my eyes. I had only worn dresses when Mom had made me. She’d been in charge of the rotary club in LA and every year they put on a benefit for some local charity. And every year I had to attend. It was always a big to-do with gowns and tuxedos. I hated playing dress-up. Worrying about what to wear was a waste of time. Give me a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and I was just as happy as any girl who loved to wear dresses.

My mother always told me that I would make any guy happy. When I’d asked her why, she’d said, “Because, dear, you don’t worry about what you’re going to wear. You’re beautiful without make-up, and you’re confident in your own skin.” God, I missed her. She’d always known what to say to people. She was a calming presence.

I was deep in thought when Dad’s rough knuckles scraped across my cheek. “Hey, Sweet Pea, everything okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You’re crying. Were you thinking about…” He had a hard time saying Mom’s name or even Julie’s. He always stopped midsentence or changed the subject. While it irritated me more now than in the beginning, I still didn’t push. I didn’t like when I was forced to talk about my feelings.

“Sorry, I…yeah, I was thinking of Mom.” I hadn’t realized I was crying.

“Don’t be sorry. I know it’s still hard.” He turned into the school lot. “Now, let me see what the problem is with your car. Then we can go meet with the principal.”

We still had an hour before school. We both got out of his restored 1964 Chevy Impala. According to Dad, they just didn’t make cars the way they used to.

I agreed with him. I’d taken the Impala out one night and got into a fender bender. Okay, it was more than a minor accident. I hadn’t been paying attention to the road. I plowed into the back of the car ahead of me that had been stopped at a red light in downtown LA. The Impala didn’t have a scratch on it. The other car wasn’t so lucky. After that night, he decided to make sure I drove a relic—the beat-up Mustang he was sitting in now, trying to turn over the engine, which was still making the
click, click
sound.

I was leaning against my car when a black Ford 150 pickup pulled in, slowly maneuvering into a spot three car lengths from us. I was surprised to see anyone here. We were in the parking lot near the baseball field. It was somewhat of a hike to the school.

Dad lumbered out of the Mustang, circled around, and popped the hood. My eyes were still fixed on the black truck. The windows were tinted, so I couldn’t tell who the driver was, although it did look like the one I saw last night. The more I stared, waiting for the occupants to emerge, the more my heart began to beat erratically. The truck sat there with its engine running under the morning sun, looking all mysterious. I shouldn’t be paranoid. Dad was here. I couldn’t help it though. Since the people responsible for killing my family were still at large, I was always on edge.

Keeping my eye on the truck, I dug out my phone. Casually, I snapped a picture of it. I was being a little nuts—just a tiny bit. I examined the picture, then glanced up at the truck again. Well, if the driver were following us, it wouldn’t be hard to describe the vehicle to the cops. Five red hearts were painted on the passenger door just above the handle.

Tearing my gaze away, I bent down, leaning on the Mustang. “Dad, how goes it?”

“It looks like the cable to the battery came loose.”

“How?” I straightened as warning bells jangled in my mind. My pulse sped up and the sky above me seemed to grow dark. I was about to have one of my panic attacks.

Dad grabbed my shoulders, lightly but firmly. “Lacey, breathe. The cables came loose. That’s all. It happens.”

My vision blurred. It had to be the stress of a new school, new home, and new friends.

“Remember your exercises,” Dad reminded me.

Dr. Meyers had told me, “Breathing is important. Inhale, hold it for five seconds, then let it out slowly. Do that as much as you have to.” But that exercise had only worked once, when I caught the attack early. I was going to pass out cold, or worse, wake up somewhere strange with no memory, like the time Dad found me walking into the ocean behind our house in California in the dead of night.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath through my nose. Then I counted to five very slowly and expelled all the air through my mouth. As I did, the pounding in my chest slowed, easing the tension. I waited another two seconds before I opened my eyes. When I did, Kade popped into view, looming next to my dad.

Oh crap!
He was inches from me. Sweat beaded on my forehead—so much for staying calm.

His honey-brown hair was swept to one side of his forehead, the back of it curling on his neck. He hid his copper eyes behind dark sunglasses. It was probably a good thing. If I’d had one peek into his eyes, Dad would have to take me to the hospital for bottled oxygen.

“Lacey, are you okay?” Dad asked, releasing his hold on me.

“What’s wrong with her?” Kade asked in a husky voice.

Dad didn’t answer as he kept his worried eyes on me. I nodded slightly to Dad, letting him know I was okay. Well, as far as the panic attack, but not all right with Kade so close now.

“Nothing,” I said. “I had an asthma attack. I forgot my inhaler.”

Dad gave me a puzzled look and walked to the front of the car.

“You sure?” Kade asked in a voice that made me squeeze my thighs together.

Yeah, I’m screwed
. I’d never reacted to Brad this way. “Is that your truck?” I asked.

“Yep. Why are you taking pictures of it?” He cocked his head to one side, his shades still hiding his eyes.

Busted.

“Do you know this boy?” Dad asked as he closed the hood of my car, the sound making me flinch.

“Um…not really.”

Kade grinned. “How’s that hand this morning, Lacey?” The way Kade said my name sent warmth cascading downward.

“How’s the eye, Kade?” The question rolled off my tongue with ease.

“Lacey, did you hit this boy? Is that what happened to your hand?” Dad glanced at me, then Kade. “Young man, what did you do to cause my daughter to punch you?” Dad asked as he stalked up to Kade, who held out his hands in front of him.

“Dad, he didn’t do anything. He was just being a smartass. He didn’t touch me.” I would’ve loved for Kade to run his hands all over my body. Still, I couldn’t let Dad use his own fists on Kade. After all, I was the one who lost the screw in my head, unleashing my wrath on him. Kade’s eyebrows rose slightly above his sunglasses.

Swiveling my way, Dad said tersely, “What did we talk about, Sweet Pea?”

I cringed at my pet name. I was going to kill Dad.

Kade smirked at me before he said to Dad, “It was just a misunderstanding, sir. I promise I didn’t lay a hand on her.”

“That’s a good thing, son.” Dad walked over to his Impala and ducked his head inside.

Relief washed through me. My actions at my last school gave Dad reason to pause before lashing out at Kade. “Did you lose your brother again, or are you following me?”

Kade’s head snapped back around to me. “I park in this lot for school.”

“So, you must be an overachiever to be here so early then.” My tone was sarcastic—it had to be with this guy. He was hitting nerves that I didn’t know I had.

“Lacey, manners.” Dad glared at me as he wiped his hand on a towel he’d gotten from his car.

I left my manners at the gravesite many months ago.

“So where’s that thing you had last night? It wasn’t a bat. What was it now?” Kade asked.

I clenched my jaw, glowering at him. I didn’t know if he was looking at me through those dark shades. Still, I wanted to rip off his Raybans and sucker punch him again. “We need to go, Dad.” My father couldn’t know about the gun. He would kill me.

Kade shoved his hands in his jean pockets and strode over to Dad. “By the way, sir, I’m Kade Maxwell. I met your daughter last night. She’s got a wicked curveball.”