Poughkeepsie Begins (The Poughkeepsie Brotherhood #0.5) (19 page)

Beckett waited in the car a little ways down Candy’s street. He’d whispered his plan in her ear just before he apologized to her father for their tardiness. And now her light flickered.

“That’s my cue to go.” Blake held out his arm for the shake. “I want to go check in with Cole anyway.” They slipped into a fist bump.

“Thanks for all your help, brother. Couldn’t have done tonight without you.”

Blake nodded and left the passenger door unlatched so his departure was silent.

Beckett snuck out of the car as well, moving through the yards until he stood under her window. Her wide smile was worth it all. She’d kept on her pretty dress, sans the sweater as he’d requested, and now she crawled out of her window. He got a beautiful view of her panties as she slid on her belly and let herself dangle from the roof’s edge.

He wrapped his arms around her knees and enjoyed the hell out of slowly lowering her to the ground, pressing her body against his the whole time.

“Come on,” he whispered, pulling her behind him to the car.

She hugged his forearm as she followed, and it made him feel strong. He flexed like a lovesick asshole.

“Where are we going?” She sounded like she was still smiling.

“You’ll see.” Beckett pulled her to stand in front of the car and motioned for her to stay put.

He reached into the car, which was still running, and pulled on the headlights. She hugged herself as if the harsh light was a cold splash of water. The headlights cut through the fabric of her dress and revealed the outline of her slightly open thighs. The music was already on, and he made it just loud enough for them to hear.

He left his door open and met her in the light. “May I have this dance, Miss Candy Cox?”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, pretending to turn away so he was forced to pull her into his arms.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said.

“You would.” She laughed and shivered. “Giving you a peek at the girls is making me freeze them off.” She pointed at her chest.

Beckett wrinkled his nose before sliding off his leather jacket and putting it on her. “Leather-framed boobs are my favorite.”

He arranged her body in a traditional dance position and began to move with her.

“Wait, you have serious, real moves?” She looked delighted and confused.

“Keep up, gorgeous.” And then Beckett made a memory. He’d been looking forward to dancing with her. And now he could.

He wasn’t getting jealous looks from all the dumbasses at school like he’d hoped, but her soft giggle when he twirled her beat that hands down. One song bled into another until they were just swaying, pulled in close to each other.

“The stars are so clear tonight. Pretty.” She leaned back in his arms to see them better.

“Stunning.” He never looked up, just looked at her.

She put her hands above her head, stretching back like a cat. He pulled her up, kissing her forehead first. He had kissed a lot of girls, so he knew when to nip, when to add a touch of tongue or let her take the lead. As he did those very things, he reveled in the little purrs of satisfaction and wonder that came from her. This was so much more than screwing her senseless. This trust and innocence she handed him made him taller. It made his chest puff up.

His. She was his. He got it now, kissing her as she slid her hands to his biceps, moving to his chest and over his stomach. This was a type of oxygen he’d never had. It was spiked with her want, with the gentle look on her face. She put her hands on his cheek, soft. Her hands were so soft.

“Thank you for helping Freddie. You were so brave, it was terrifying. And crazy hot.” She kissed him again.

Beckett should have rushed in to confess all the other terrifying things he was capable of, but in the sanctity of the light from the stolen headlights, covered by a night sky with her in his arms, he wanted to believe he was good for one fucking moment.

“So ask me.” She pulled away and put space between them, still holding his big hands in her small ones.

He gave her a puzzled look. What she wanted asked was a mystery.

“To be your girlfriend?” She gave him a look from under her lashes.

“Oh! Well, now. Aren’t we bossy?” He spun her again and pulled her back against his chest, using a hand to move her hair to the side of her neck so he could press a kiss there. “I would love for you to be my girlfriend.”

“So are you asking? Is this formal?” She wrapped her arms around his neck, tipping her head back so he could place a kiss on her cheek.

He murmured against her skin. “What does that entail? Skywriters? Jewelry?”

“Just a boy asking a girl. That’s all it takes.” She closed her eyes and lifted an eyebrow, waiting.

“Fine. That sounds easy enough…Candy, will you be my—”

His question was cut off by the sound of a horn. Startled, he shuffled Candy behind him. Because of the fucking headlights, he couldn’t see who he was facing.

“Fucking Taylor. Where’s my shipment? I’ve got Kick’s hooker in here handing out the worst blow jobs in the history of dick. I don’t think he’ll pull his stoner head out of his ass long enough to care. Somebody better take this shit serious right now.”

Horror poured over his romantic outing with Candy like blood. He spun, giving the assholes his back, and grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Please go inside. Go home.” While he said it he tried to adjust his eyesight. Stupid. He had been stupid to do this.

The sound of a rifle snapping into position sobered the whole setting.

“Candy, come on over here.”

Her father. And as much as that sucked, at least he had a way to get her home safely now.

“You boys better go on to where you came from.” The man’s authoritative tone got action.

Beckett walked Candy over, hands in the air with his body between her and the men threatening him about Kick.

Her father’s face came into view as they neared. He was so angry, standing just inside the tree line.

“And you’ll never darken my door again, Taylor. Understand?”

Beckett didn’t answer, but Candy started to cry.

“Please take her inside,” Beckett finally said softly.

“Don’t tell me what to do with my daughter.”

“Of course, sir. But please.” Beckett motioned in the direction of their house with his head and widened his eyes.

Candy’s dad looked at the car full of shouting assholes and kept his gun aimed there as they peeled out. When the car was gone, Candy and her father began a family discussion that Beckett was the cause of but not included in. He waved at Candy sadly when she looked back over her shoulder.

He stood with his hands clasped in front of him, head down, as his dream girl was led back to the life she belonged in.

Kick was in trouble. Dumbass Doreen was in trouble. Now was his moment. Now he would decide which path to take.

Blake climbed through the window and noticed light coming from under Cole’s door. He tapped out the combination that would let Cole know who was on the other side. There was gentle murmur of admittance, and Blake cracked the door. Wintery was curled up in Cole’s bed with her favorite elephant, and he sat on the end.

Blake sat on the floor after closing the door behind him. “Nightmare?”

“Sort of. I think it was more worry. Her mom is coming to get them tomorrow.”

Blake shook his head. “I guess the judge was back from vacation. She’s clean already?”

“I’m assuming. We’ll ask Beck when he’s home.”

Blake looked at the little girl resting peacefully and nodded. “Left him at Candy’s house. He had some drama tonight, but he wasn’t arrested, so that worked out at least.” He pulled out his cardboard piano and smoothed it on the carpet. “How you doing?” He kept his eyes on his brother but moved his fingers to the beat of a hymn.

“Fine.”

“Really? ’Cause that was some intense stuff last week.” Blake added the bass to the song in his head.

When Cole had returned to the house with Beckett and Blake, Rick had sent up flare signals all over the place, mostly to make sure his check for Cole’s care was reinstated. When the police came to question Cole, he simply told them his mom had failed to come home that night, so he went back to foster care because that seemed safest.

The police had made some noise about paperwork being started, and an APB went out on his mother, but mostly things went back to the way they’d been. Beckett had assured them Safire would have no real way of finding Cole, and much of her warehouse had burned anyway.

“It was what it was. It will do to me what it will.” Cole shrugged. “I’m back. The girls are who we should worry about now.”

Blake nodded. He wouldn’t press Cole. He understood. His silence was sometimes the only privacy he had. It was a comfort.

“You need to crash? Go sleep in my bed. I’ll stay up for her.” Blake nodded at the little lump in the bed.

“I’m fine. You know what? I haven’t checked to make sure Summer is asleep too. You know she doesn’t like the hallway when it’s dark. Could you?”

Nodding, Blake stood and held out his arm for the shake.

When it was through, he went quietly into Wintery and Summer’s room to see the girl with the warmer name curled up sound asleep with her own stuffed tiger from the zoo. He almost left before he noticed the piece of paper in her hand. On the blank side of a junk mail flyer, she’d drawn a picture of herself and her sister with their mom in pencil. It was as cheery as she could make it without the benefit of crayons.
I love Mommy
was written across the top.

Blake smiled before turning and easing her door shut. God, he hoped their mother wouldn’t disappoint them. And he hoped Candy could love some sense into Beckett. Finally, he hoped once again that Cole wasn’t so damaged by this latest experience with his mom that he would be broken forever.

Beckett made his way into Kick’s horrible fucking house, and the dumbass was passed out and drooling—didn’t even have enough sense to prop himself up so he wouldn’t choke on his own vomit.

He slapped the man across the face. Once, twice, three times. The sounds of his hand against unconscious flesh brought a few deadbeats and dealers to the living room.

He addressed them since Kick’s eyes remained closed. “What the fuck is going on?”

Dentist, who had been quick to suck up lately, spoke up. “Jagged was here all making tons of shit and threats about a shipment he didn’t get. Judging from Kick being mostly dead, it’s the huge H delivery he was bragging about. Also, Dicksuckin’ Doreen was up to some shady shit yesterday. Jagged took her out of here like she was ransom and some shit. But that did not look like the God’s honest truth to me. I think Dicksuckin’ is doublecrossing Kick.”

“Double D is a huge asshole. Who knew she had enough brain cells left to steal Jagged’s shipment?” And then Beckett got it. Double D had set up Kick, probably at Jagged’s request. Kick had been yelling the other day that she’d stolen his keys. If Kick lost the shipment—or was too wasted to prove they’d taken it—Jagged could claim he was within his rights to take over Kick’s territory.

Beckett sighed as the motherfuckers and junkies looked to him for leadership. He thought of Candy’s dad looking at him like he was a piece of shit. The man wasn’t wrong. He was standing in a drug den, making plans about a fucking pimp drug dealer, and he knew his life had come down to a choice between his future and his brothers’.