Read His End Game (MMG #1) Online

Authors: R B Hilliard

His End Game (MMG #1) (2 page)

BOOK: His End Game (MMG #1)
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Piper leaving weighed heavily on my heart. I didn’t want her to go away. I didn’t want to be left alone with my aunt. For as long as I could remember, Piper and her family had been my buffer. They were who I ran to when I couldn’t take anymore criticism or negativity from home. Take them away and I was…alone. The only saving grace was my job at Providence.

My aunt demanded that I get a job the summer before my freshman year in high-school. She believed that working would keep me out of trouble. Piper’s mom thought this was silly but, being her awesome motherly self, she introduced me to her friend Amy, who owned Providence. Amy, being laid back and extremely cool, let me pick up as many shifts as I wanted, whenever I wanted and, three years later, I held the title of the longest lasting employee.

The week before the start of my junior year, I was working when a girl about my age came strutting in drenched from head to toe. The confident way she walked reminded me of Piper, who left a week ago for Virginia. It had been a long, lonely, rainy
week without her. Shaking off my nostalgia, I sat the wet girl in my section and, since she was my only customer at the time, proceeded to chat with her.

“Looks crazy out there,” I said, nodding my head toward the park. “What can I get for you?”

“A beer?” She asked, winking at me.

“Will a Coke do?” I smiled, immediately liking her.

I discovered that her name was Josselyn Speilman but she preferred Joss. Like me, she was about to turn seventeen and was going to Myers Park High School. Her family had recently moved to Charlotte from Washington DC. I watched her ring out her gorgeous curly white blonde hair and felt a stab of envy. I couldn’t help but notice the contrast between the two of us. She was the all American girl with white blonde hair and big blue eyes. Next to my long blondish brown hair and odd shaped golden eyes, she looked like a fairy. We talked for a while about the upcoming year before I had to break away and take other orders.

I was cashing out a customer when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“I have to get going but wanted to give you my phone number, in case you ever want to talk or hang out,” Joss said.

I walked her to the door, exchanged numbers and said goodbye. For the first time since hearing that Piper was leaving, I found myself looking forward to something.

Piper decided not to come home for Thanksgiving, which I took personally. I had filled every second of every day since the first day of school with homework and work. The only enjoyment I allowed myself time for was watching Max in the halls, talking to Piper on the phone, listening to music and reading. I had
been counting the days until Thanksgiving break and seeing Piper. When she told me that she was spending the week with a friend from school, it really shook me.

I moped around for the first couple of days and then, not being able to stand it any longer, picked up the phone and dialed Joss. It wasn’t that I didn’t have other friends. I did. I just wasn’t interested in who was getting cheated on, screwed or dumped. I liked boys, a lot. I just didn’t plan my life around them. I had seen Joss in the halls at school and, like me, she seemed a little lost. I hadn’t made an effort to reach out and felt that it was way past time, so I called her up and invited her over.

It turns out that Joss was a scary movie addict and she brought over a few of her favorites for us to watch. I practically hid under the sofa the whole time. We had just finished watching A Nightmare on Elm Street and were popping popcorn before watching Halloween, when she asked the dreaded question that everyone eventually asks me.

“Is it too personal or can I ask you why you live with your aunt and not your parents?”

It wasn’t that I minded talking about it. It was the look of pity that I received after telling my story that got to me.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “That was rude of me to ask.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just that every time I tell someone, they pity me and I really hate that.”

“Hey,” she said, “trust me when I say that your story can’t be much worse than mine.”

Wanna bet
?

Internally sighing, I began. “My parents slept together in high-school and…oops…” I pointed to myself, “conceived me.” It was hard explaining my mom’s slutty tendencies, so I just gave it to her short and sweet. “Supposedly, my mom really got around. When she told my dad she was pregnant, he offered to pay for
an abortion but only because he couldn’t deny that he had taken a turn on her merry-go-round and that there was a chance that I could be his kid. He got really angry when she told him that she was having me and, before I was even born, he left town. About a month before my birth, she decided that she didn’t want to be tied down by a kid after all, so she began adoption procedures. That’s when Aunt Elizabeth, my dad’s older sister stepped in and stopped her.”

“So, your mom had you and gave you to your aunt?” she asked.

“Yes, but she made my aunt go through regular adoption procedures because she needed the money.”

Something my aunt reminds me of regularly
.

“What about your grandparents?”

“Oh, they’re all long gone. My mom’s parents were around some when I was little, but I don’t remember them. My dad’s parents died before I was even born.”

“Do you mind me asking what happened to your mom?”

“She took off for California right after I was born.”

“Have you ever tried to find her?”

“No, she was killed in a car accident when I was four.”

“God, Ellie. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I shrugged. “It’s not like I knew her. It’s hard to feel anything for someone you’ve never even met.”

“And your dad?”

“Who knows? I’ve only seen pictures of him from when he was in high-school. He took off and never came back. I am his daughter, though.”

“Oh?”

“I look just like him.”

“So your aunt named you Ellie?”

“Ellison Elizabeth Davis.”

“I like it,” she said, smiling.

Talking to Joss turned out to be just like talking to Piper, easy and comfortable. Changing the subject, I asked about her family. She told me that she was the only child of parents who never wanted kids.

Yes, they actually told her this
.

Primarily having been raised by nannies her whole life, she felt like her parents were more like housemates. They were incredibly wealthy and traveled all the time, leaving her at home alone or with house keepers. This made my aunt look like freaking Mary Poppins.

I think because neither of us really had a sense of family or a lot of love in our lives, Joss and I related to each other. Regardless of her crappy upbringing, she had turned out well and I was glad that I had made a new friend.

The morning of my seventeenth birthday started like any other day. I woke up and made my way downstairs for my usual pop tarts or frozen waffles. I was floored to find a plate of piping hot eggs and crispy bacon waiting on the table for me. I was looking around, making sure I wasn’t in my next door neighbor’s house, when my aunt came walking out of her office.

“Happy Birthday, Ellison.”

I hated when she called me that and instantly wanted to correct her but didn’t want to start a fight. She seemed to be trying, so I let it go. “Thanks,” I said.

“Here.” She held out her hand. I wondered if I should shake it, when she produced a set of keys. “The time has come,” she cryptically announced.

My aunt had never been one for words. She was a hospital accountant for God’s sake. I stood there waiting for the rest of her sentence. After a minute or so I gave in and asked, “Foooooor?”

“You to have more responsibility.”

Really
?

From where I was standing I had plenty of responsibility. I did all of the grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning and, on top of that, was expected to make straight A’s.

What more responsibility could she possibly give me
?

It turns out that my aunt had gone out and bought herself a brand new Cadillac. My new responsibility was the keys to her crappy old beat up diesel VW Rabbit that looked like it had barely survived the dark ages. At this point, a car was a car. This meant that I would no longer have to bum rides from all of my friends.

Thank you Aunt Elizabeth!

My aunt was a strict believer in tough love, so the fact that she had given me a birthday present at all was huge. Of course, not feeling the need to overextend herself, she handed it to me with the gas tank empty. On my way to Joss’ house for cake, I stopped off at the corner station to fill up. Thank goodness one of the two places in the county that still sold diesel gas was right by my house. I was standing at the pump, thinking about how I could now drive to work instead of walking, when something across the way caught my eye.

Max McLellan
.

He had on his usual worn faded jeans, tight fitting T and motorcycle boots. He was standing, foot propped up on the runner of his vintage Scout truck, talking on his cell phone. Yes, I knew the exact make and model of Max McLellan’s vehicle.

Just call me stalker
.

Not wanting him to see me, I hurried inside to pay the cashier. Still in hurry mode, I flung open the door to leave and smacked right into him.

“Shit!” I screamed and promptly covered my mouth with both hands.

Of course, the first words that I ever speak to Max McLellan can’t be Hi or how’s it going? Nope, it has to be a word used for excrement. Nice
.

“You okay?” He asked, looking down at me.

Wow, he looks good up close and….I knew that he was tall, but he’s really tall
.

Being a whopping five feet eight inches tall, it was rare that I looked up at anyone. So, needless to say, finding that Max was that much taller than me made me very happy.

The corners of his mouth slowly turned up, forming a heart stopping smile.

His eyes are blue with green flecks in them and, oh my, are those…dimples? How did I not know he has dimples
?

Thinking about all that was Max, I managed to nod and say, “Uh huh.”

“Nice ride.” His eyes twinkled as he glanced over at my crappy car. “I didn’t know they still made those in diesel.”

Of course, being shy and at that moment floored that Max McLellan was standing there speaking to me, I blurted, “You know, you really shouldn’t talk on the phone while pumping gas or you could blow the station up and for goodness sake, whatever you do, do
not
light up a cigarette.” The second I said it I wanted to take it back. I especially wanted to take it back when I saw his lips quirk.

Yes, Max McLellan is now trying not to laugh at stupid Ellie Davis
.

“I’ll keep that in mind when I fill up in the future.” He smiled and winked when he said this. I could feel my face flaming at this point and wanted to just get in my crap-heap car and go. “And, just so you know, I don’t smoke,” he added, his sexy blue eyes taking me in.

“Okay, uh, good to know. Well, guess I’ll see you around.” I made myself turn away before I said or did something really stupid.

“Hold up.” I felt his hand on my arm.

“Yes?” I tried not to gasp at the fact that he was touching me.

“I just wanted to say thanks for the advice on…uh… car safety.” He was now unabashedly grinning at me.

I am such an idiot
.

“I’m now going.” I squeezed out breathlessly, sure that the color of my face was showing the degree of my embarrassment.

“Okay Ellison, maybe I’ll see you around.”

Oh my God, he actually knows my name
.

The timber of his voice resonated through my body. It was deep and rich and, like a favorite song, was something I wanted to hear over and over again. Bypassing Joss’ house, I drove back home thinking about how he knew my name. I was so enthralled with the experience that I even forgot to correct him when he called me Ellison. I hated my first name with a passion. Probably because my aunt only used it when she was ordering me to do something or when I was in trouble. I kind of liked it when Max said it, though.

S
omething to think about later
.

When I got home, I flopped on my bed and immediately called Piper who, of course, was a bit worried about what she deemed my debatable ‘stalker obsession’ with Max. In complete Piper fashion, she phoned her brother RJ and talked to him about it. RJ called his ex-girlfriend Linda, who was a senior in Max’s class, to get the scoop. Piper then called me back to inform me that Max was currently involved with a cheerleader named Jennifer Tilson. Being that I knew pretty much everything about Max, I was well aware of his so-called relationship with Jennifer. RJ also told Piper to tell me to back off.

BOOK: His End Game (MMG #1)
9.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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