Just Her Luck (39 page)

I grabbed his head and cushioned it against my breasts, muffling him as he tried to protest.

He stopped protesting after a second, and after a small amount of quiet deliberation, or happiness mashed in booby land, he slowly lifted his head.

"Uh, Vieve, baby doll. What are you doing?" he asked carefully, seeking a few good peeks at the girls.

"Comforting you." I smiled, immediately snuggling into his chest. "Thatcher?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't really feel anything...” I poked my face, “can you feel anything?"

"Yep... feelin' a whole lot right now," he muttered, shifting me over on his lap.

"Wait!" I protested, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"What's wrong?" He stilled his hands.

"You have to tell me why you've been mad at me lately,
first."

"I haven't been..."

I pushed my hand into his lips, mushing them as I lost my balance and they slid across his face.

"You were mad the day after I played naked tag with Reeve. How can you be mad at me for the pond thing? You deserved it," I babbled, slumping down every so often until eventually we were cheek to cheek.

"We can talk about this later," he hedged, his cell phone digging into my hip.

Is that a cell phone?

"But I want to fix it
now
, before Reeve hires someone else and I have to leave."

"I'm not hiring anybody else," Reeve cut in.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Nooo! I'm..."

"Seriously, asshole?" Thatcher griped, "She's hopped up on happy juice and you're going to argue with her?"

"Does that mean you like me again?" I asked Thatcher hopefully, twining his pretty blonde locks in my hands, running them through my fingers, giving him a little grin.

"I've always liked you, Genev..."

"Good, let's kiss and make up." I planted one on him right then, intending for it to be a peck, but it quickly got hot fast.

Thatcher jerked as his head was suddenly yanked back, yelping out as we were unceremoniously wrenched apart.

"Seriously, asshole? She's all hopped up on happy juice,
ah-hem
, and you're just going to do
that
?" Sawyer growled.

His hands tugging Thatcher's head back by his hair and Reeve's death grip on the back of my shirt were the only things keeping us from sticking back together like magnets.

"
She
kissed me," Thatcher said dazedly, then grinned, staring at my lips, "Technically, she's taking advantage of
me
,” he cleared his throat, “and I'm lettin' her."

"You need to get back in your seat and buckle up, ya little hell cat," Reeve chimed in.

"I wasn't done yet," I complained, glancing up at him.

"Yes, you are," he said gruffly, plopping me down in my seat, buckling me back up.

"Hey, when did we stop?" I glanced around, frowning.

I just now realized he'd pulled over.

"Maybe we should bring her back in..." Ephraim said worriedly, "is it supposed to last this long?"

"NO!" I bellowed, clutching the clip to my seat belt, trying to scramble to get it undone.

"Hey. Hey, baby," Ephraim soothed, hand coming up to rub my shoulder, "Relax, Genny. We won't make you do anything you don't want to."

My heart was slamming into my chest and it took me a full minute before that even registered.

"Why are you so afraid of needles, anyways? Don't you have a bunch of piercings?" Sawyer asked.

"That's different," I hedged, tucking a piece of my unruly hair behind my ears.

"Different how?" Reeve asked sharply.

"I don't need lip from you, you big grumpy asshole! Piercings go through you, not in you. I'd like you to have one of your mother's junky boyfriends trying to shoot you up, just for fun, chasing you around the house with a hypodermic needle, and see how you like it!"

"Your mother's boyfriend..." Sawyer trailed off, stunned.

I slumped down in my seat and picked up my hand, staring at it as I examined all twelve stitches.

Erm, I think there’s twelve… I’m having trouble counting.

"I almost waited too long to get stitches. Did they tell you that?" I asked no one in particular, “with how long I waited, plus the drive to the hospital… then the wait…”

Is it normal to feel like your body is detached from you? Or is that still the medicine talking...?

What were we talking about?

Hmmm.

I want pizza.

"I want pizza," I vocalized my thoughts, running my hands over my stitches.

Thatcher picked up my hand and took it gently in his. "Where is your dad, Genevieve? Why didn't you tell him, tell anyone?"

"I don't know who my real dad is. There was a man once, until I was about seven, I'd always thought he was it. He did too. Mama came home wasted one night, for the millionth time that month, and they got into a huge fight about it. That's when she let the whole ugly truth out.
I wasn't really his, she didn't know who my father really was. And that that's the real reason why she gave me her last name instead of his. It had nothing to do with the crap she'd spewed about me being born out of wedlock.
"

"He just left? Like that?" Bowen asked, surprised.

"No," I shook my head, "She kicked him out and he tried to see me still, coming to all of my school things, visiting me at Ruthie's. Mama found out and we moved a week later. I don't know what she did or said to him, but I never saw him again. He stopped trying."

My gaze flicked around the cab and I saw sad, pitying faces.

It made me mad.

"I don't need your sympathy, okay. I did just fine. It wasn't always so bad. My mom dated a couple of nice guys every so often and they taught me a lot of neat things. One of them even taught me how to fight dirty. He said I was a natural born scrapper." I couldn’t help smiling a little fondly at the memory.

Of course, I made sure I left out the part about him going back to prison for breaking his parole- they didn't need to know
that
part.

"What did you want to know...?" I muttered as I thought for a minute, brain on whir as I tried to think.

"Oh! Oh, yeah. The whole why didn’t I tell someone thing.
I tried
," I shrugged, "but I was known for smarting off and generally causing
minor
problems. So they believed my mom. She insisted I just wanted attention. Only Ruthie ever believed me. She and Barry are the only
real
family I've ever had.
Mom
doesn't count."

"What does your mama say, Genevieve? You said earlier that it's like your mom says. What did you mean?" Sawyer asked curiously, bringing the conversation back around to what I was talking about just moments ago, pre-Thatcher rubbing.

"She always said I sucked the life out of her, I make her crazy, drive her mad. She can't stand me. Yadda yadda," I said on a yawn, head and eyes starting to droop a little.

"Your own mother told you that?" Ephraim whispered.

"Yeah, but it's alright, I'm used to it. She moved again when I was sixteen and I took off, hitch hiking to Ruthie's. I lived with her until I bought my house a few years back, then she sold her house and came to live with me. She lived with me until she started working for you guys. Then, uh, then she just kinda moved in there."

"Are you going to tell us why you gave up on us so easily, baby?" Ephraim asked quietly.

I yawned and sighed. "I don't want to hurt you. Any of you. Reeve said I'm like poison. He thinks I'll make you guys miserable..."

"Why don't we get you to the house so you can rest," Reeve talked over me, starting the truck back up.

"I want to hear what she has to say," Bowen rumbled.

"Yeah," Ephraim added.

"You were all fighting and it had to do with me. Maybe Reeve and Mom are right or maybe I'm just as bad as my mom.” My head lolled a little in the side. “Who grows attached to five different men?” I chuckled a little at myself, “One of them the biggest, meanest ass wipe you've ever seen, and I want them all? I can't have my cake and eat it too, and I won't choose. So, what does that make me? You guys never fought like that until I came around. That's the way Reeve made it sound. The best solution, as far as I could tell, would be for me to leave. Wouldn't it? You guys would find someone else, each find their own someone," I tried not to choke on the words, but they stuck in my throat, dry and tasteless. Bitter.

"Is that what you want? For us all to go try and find someone else?" Bowen grumbled with disapproval. "I already told you, sweetheart, you're mine. I won't be sharing you with anyone besides them."

He hooked a thumb at his brothers. "If you're thinkin' you're gonna just forget about us by takin' up with some dip shit, lettin' him touch you, love on ya, you can just think again."

"I don't want anyone else touching me. That guy at the party tried to grab at me and it made me feel sick."

"What guy at what party? Our party?" Ephraim growled.

"That's why you were spooked," Reeve peeked over his shoulder, glancing at me, "You hit him when he tried to push himself on you, didn't you? The soda can?"

"What?!" Sawyer boomed out, making me pop up, startled, in the seat.

Heart suddenly pounding at the unexpected jolt, I give him a wide eyed look.

He doesn't strike me as the angry upset type.

It was a bit surprising.

Or is my jumpiness the sedative?

Either way, he's an angry-when-upset type of dude, obviously.

Who'd have thunk it?

I tugged at Reeve's sleeve, catching his attention.

"You're not going to tell Ephraim and Bowen are you? I don't want them getting upset. I took care of it. I don't think he'll be trying to bother anyone with his pecker for a while." I frowned and rubbed at my forehead, trying to shake myself out of it.

Or is it into it...?

Ugh... I don't even know...

"I can promise you, sweet thang," Reeve grinned, making me look at him funny, "I won't tell them a thing."

"Don't call me that."

"What? Sweet thang?"

"You sneered it at me when you tried to say I was screwing Barry. It makes me feel dirty now instead of the warm and fuzzies. When you say it I feel like you're mocking me." I waved my hand around at him, "I'm short, I'm round, I've heard it all, but I won't put up with it. Not anymore. The bologna never does end in high school, does it? There's always a new bully just around the corner."

"You think I bully you?" Reeve asked abruptly, unhappy at the idea.

"Isn't that what it is? You've been hateful and mean, picking at me, picking on me... accusing me of things that I would
never
do. You're trying to find things wrong with me, and what you're looking for isn't there. Just because I can dish it out doesn't mean I don't bleed on the inside from it, just like you do." I held up my hand, pointing at the stitches. "I bleed too, Reeve."

The truck was silent for a while as we bumped down the road, the radio on low as we chugged along.

"If I was really pretty, would you have treated me differently?"

"What do you mean?" he looked away from me, tensing up.

"If I was gorgeous, you know... untattooed, blonde, skinny... unpierced... etc... etc...
un
-prison-ish… –
whatever it is you like-
would you have been nice to me? Would you have done... like... like... ah, would you have... erm, never mind,” I halted right then, couldn’t bring myself to finish it. “I don't want to know,” I said instead, “I guess it doesn't really matter anyways..."

"You don't think you're pretty, baby?" Ephraim questioned.

I shrugged.

"I don't think I'll be winning any dogface awards
- contrary to what Bobby Simmons thought in the ninth grade-
but I've never really worried too much about it. I want people to like me more for my insides than my outsides anyways. It’s what's on the inside that counts. I want a man with a brain in his head and a big heart, room enough for me, over a pretty face and hot bod with a heartless disposition, any day."

I don't think Reeve realized it, but he was fingering his scar, hand running over the long- healed gash as he drove.

"I don't know what that Maura, erm, Laura, Clara… whatever her name is- person said or did to you to make you such a mean asshole, but one day you'll find someone to open up to and you'll be the Reeve that I liked. The Reeve from naked tag.” I nodded my head sharply, “I liked that Reeve."

"Naked tag Reeve?" Thatcher snickered, "I'll have to remember that one."

"You would," Sawyer rolled his eyes, slugging him, "You stayed home that night, didn't you? You wouldn't stop pouting the next morning. I have to wonder how much you heard... I imagine, if you had peeked out your door, you would have
seen
'naked tag Reeve'."