Read Resist Me (Change Me Book One - standalone): McCoy Raven Boys Online
Authors: A.O. Peart
When I opened the backdoor, I screamed and immediately slammed it shut. A huge, black-and-tan German Shepherd quietly sat outside, blocking my exit. I moved to the window to see what that scary beast was doing. A drape in a white-and-blue lace covered the glass, so I carefully moved it a bit to the side and peeked out. The creature sat motionless with its brown eyes trained on the door, its bushy tail lying flat behind it, twitching.
“Damn it,” I hissed to myself. I thought about calling Ethan, but I didn’t have his phone number, which I quickly scolded myself for.
There was a phone on the kitchen counter. Ethan and Chris seemed like good friends, so maybe, just maybe his number would be written down somewhere around there. If not, I was totally screwed.
A small corkboard was mounted over the counter. I located light switch on the wall and turned the light on. Photos, postcards, handwritten notes, and a large dried daisy flower were pinned onto it. My eyes danced over that colorful display, trying to locate Ethan phone number. There were several names with numbers but, so far, no luck finding Ethan’s.
“This is ridiculous.” I shook my head and rushed back to the window to peek outside. The dog sat, waiting. “Argh!” I stomped my foot.
I went back to the phone and opened a drawer under it. There were all kinds of items in there, and they seemed just thrown in randomly: pens, notecards, stapler, paper clips, a bottle with red nail polish, and more. Right in the middle of the mess was a small notebook with pink fairies and flowers printed on. I hesitated, feeling like a nasty snoop. But what choice did I have?
I opened the book. “Bingo!” It was an address book. By its tattered pages I suspected this thing was a few years old. A lot of names with phone numbers and addresses were listed there in the alphabetical order. What was Ethan’s last name though? McSomething… McGrath, no… McCoy! Yes, Ethan McCoy.
Hurriedly, I flipped the pages to the “M” section. And there it was—written among several other names starting with the M was Ethan’s address and number. I picked up the phone and dialed, hoping it was actually his cell phone number.
He answered, sounding surprised, “Chris?”
“No, it’s Lis… Gloria. I can’t get out of this house.”
“What? Gloria? Where the hell are you?”
“I’m inside Chris’s house. But there is a large dog, guarding the backdoor. I can’t get past it.”
He chuckled. He actually
chuckled
! Seriously? Was this some kind of a cruel joke?
“That’s Pasha, Chris’s dog. She’s the sweetest thing ever.” Ethan continued laughing.
“She doesn’t look sweet at all! Stop making fun of me. What do I do now?” I was beyond frustrated.
“Okay, Pasha won’t hurt you. Was she barking at all?”
“No, she wasn’t.” Where was he going with this?
“She barks when she’s angry, which is rare. If she doesn’t, she either wants to play or wants to eat.”
“Some dog they have,” I huffed. “A stranger comes to the house, and she wants to play?”
“Would you prefer for her to get seriously pissed with you?”
“Of course not! So, what should I do now?” I was unconvinced.
“Open the door and tell her your name,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Are you crazy? What if she realizes I’m not Chris, but someone she doesn’t know and then tries to chomp my hand off?”
“I’ve known Pasha for a few years and no, she won’t bite. Besides, she already knows you’re not Chris. Although, she might be confused, since you are wearing Chris’s clothes so her smell is there,” he mused.
“
Confused
? What is that supposed to mean?” I yelled and ran to the window again, the phone clutched in my hand.
Pasha sat where she did before, but now there was a small, black-and-white cat, rubbing itself against the dog. The dog seemed to ignore the other animal.
I told Ethan what I saw, and he said, “See? She won’t even hurt a cat. You’re safe. Open the door and let her smell your hand. When she does, pet her gently and slowly on the head. Walk outside and straight to the backyard. You know what to do next.”
“And she won’t chase after me?” That couldn’t be so easy. There must have been a catch.
“She most likely will but not to hurt you. To play.”
I sighed in frustration and rolled my eyes. That was a weird dog; and probably not very smart. But I didn’t want a smart dog here now. I was glad this one wouldn’t make a hamburger out of me.
“Okay, but it’ll be your fault if she bites me,” I told him. “I’m going there, so if you won’t see me in a few minutes, you better come to the rescue.” I hung up and put the phone back in its cradle.
“This is insane,” I said to myself and opened the door just a crack, ready to slam it shut in Pasha’s face.
She opened her mouth, and her long tongue rolled out. She looked as if she was grinning at me. Slowly, with my heart beating like some insane drum, I reached my hand toward the massive black muzzle. “I’m not going to hurt you, Pasha,” I said, my voice shaky.
The dog sniffed me, and it’s wet nose pushed onto my palm. I carefully ran my hand to the spot between Pasha’s ears. Her fur was soft and slick, and she felt pleasantly warm.
“You’re so friendly,” I whispered. “My name is Gloria… well, I will tell you the truth: it’s actually Lisbeth.”
Pasha licked my wrist as if to show that she appreciated the trust and would keep my secret.
“Ethan is waiting for me out there,” I tipped my chin toward the woods in the back, “you know Ethan, right?”
Pasha squealed quietly.
“You do!” Wow, she understood everything I was saying. Maybe she was smart after all. “Okay, so I’m gonna walk to that gate there in the back. Will you let me go?”
Pasha nudged me with her muzzle again. I guessed it was her way of saying “yes”.
The cat appeared from nowhere again and went around my legs, rubbing himself—or maybe herself—on my pants.
I bent down and patted the animal’s soft head. He looked at me and meowed quietly.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” I said quietly to the cat. “But now I need to go.” I slowly stood up, careful not to make any sudden moves. After all, I couldn’t be sure of Pasha’s reaction, no matter what Ethan said about her being unusually friendly.
I locked the door behind me. Should I leave Chris’s key something around here? Maybe behind that large flowerpot. She didn’t mention anything about it, and with Pasha letting everyone into the house I didn’t feel comfortable leaving the key here. So I put it in the pants pocket. Chris said Juno would get her anyway. And Juno must’ve had another key.
I walked fast toward the back fence. Both animals trotted next to me, like my own private escort party. It was kind of funny. And cute. And reassuring. I felt like they cared about my wellbeing, and I was amazed, since I’ve never owned an animal. I didn’t know how affectionate and clever they could be.
I also realized something else: from the moment Ethan dropped me off in front of Chris’s house, I didn’t think even for a split second about my difficult situation, the gang, poor Helen, or the FBI. This puzzled and amazed me—in a good way. All I was concerned about until now was to follow the plan.
As soon as I got to the gate leading into the woods, I turned to my furry escorts. “Thank you for everything. You two are something else. Maybe one day I will see you again?”
The kitty meowed. Pasha looked at me with sad eyes. Her mouth was closed, unsmiling. I touched the side of her head.
“Don’t worry about me. Go play,” I said, looking into those gentle, brown eyes. They were fixed on me, making me warm inside. I squatted down and put my hand out for the cat to sniff. He
let me rub his head and then scratch behind the ears. He purred softly, half-closing his eyes.
“Happy home, happy residents.” I sighed, stood up, and pushed the gate open. I made sure it was firmly closed behind me. Resting my hands on the metal spikes, I looked at my furry companions one more time. And then I turned around and raced through the woods.
The canopy of trees was thick. It blocked the sun, providing a much-needed shade. The woods seemed to emanate some special force. It made me happy, careless almost. I grinned to myself while running on the skinny path, the ferns brushing the bottoms of my pants.
The path meandered, turning right, and then left, and right again. I spread my arms out, smiling and ran, feeling as upbeat and care-free as I haven’t felt since my friend’s horrific death. Nothing negative existed at this moment; nothing could make me sad or scared. I felt free and connected to whatever strong energy ruled over this place.
I stopped at the large boulder with two handprints in gold paint. I put my palms on the cold surface of the boulder, fitting them over the markings. The stone felt smooth to the touch. Reluctantly, I pulled away from it and went around it, toward the road where Ethan’s truck was already idling.
The passenger window was rolled down, so I could see him. He was watching me, one hand on the steering wheel, the other arm draped on the back of the passenger seat.
“Hey,” he said when I got close. “No bite marks?”
He meant Pasha. I rolled my eyes. “That dog is really sweet, but she scared the living crap out of me at first.” I got into the truck.
One corner of Ethan’s mouth lifted up. He found the whole situation with Pasha humorous! I wanted to punch him. He put the truck in drive, and we took off.
“Chris just texted me. Everything is going as planned, so far,” he said.
“She’s safe. Thank God.” I exhaled with relief. “Did she say anything else? Where is she now?”
“No, but she will contact me soon. I’ll let you know.”
I pondered upon that for a minute or two. I wanted to know more details, but getting anything out of Ethan was like pulling teeth. So I decided to wait.
“Why didn’t Chris warn me about the dog? If I was prepared, I wouldn’t have gotten so scared,” I said.
Ethan glanced at me. “Maybe Pasha was supposed to be at the neighbors’ as she often is when Chris and Juno are away at work. Chris was doing the night rotation shift. I’m not sure about Juno, but maybe she was away too. It happens often.”
“So why Pasha was in their yard and not at the neighbors?” I was more curious than mad. Remembering the dog’s cute face with her tongue lolling, and the kitty’s affection, I couldn’t help but smile.
“Beats me.” He shrugged. “They have a small gate between their and the neighbors’ property, and maybe it was left open.”
“Wow, they must be good friends with the neighbors to have a gate for such an easy access,” I mused.
“It’s Juno’s sister and brother-in-law. They are all very close.”
Sister
—that beautiful word didn’t exist in my life. But I pushed that thought away. The positive energy from Chris and Juno’s place still kept me upbeat, and I sure as hell wanted to hold on to that feeling for as long as I could.
Chapter Nine
GLORIA/LISBETH
Ethan said it will take us about two hours to get to Lincoln City where his cabin was. Once he referred to it as his family’s cabin.
I longingly thought about how wonderful it would actually be to have a family, not even as large as Ethan’s, but any, even two-person family. He mentioned to have four brothers and several cousins, most living within a driving distance from one another. Their Thanksgiving and Christmas celebrations must have been huge.
I wanted to talk about his relatives. I didn’t really know why I suddenly had such an urge to hear about people I’ve never even met before. Maybe it was just to keep my mind off my own sad and lonely existence. I didn’t want to think about that now. I also didn’t want to think about the FBI, the gang, and the murder because if I did, I would, most likely, have a panic attack again.
So I quickly asked, “Tell me about your brothers. There are five of you, right? What’s your family like?”
Ethan looked at me, and his face relaxed. His dark eyes seemed to lighten, and there was a ghost of a smile on his full lips.
I gaped at him, which allowed me to take in his features.
He was a really good looking, in the predatory kind of way. His confident pose and speech defined certain dominance. Strength of character emanated from him in waves, putting me at ease and then making me uncomfortable in turns. Being around Ethan was so confusing—he came across as a man highly capable to help someone in need, like myself, but at the same time his personality seemed to loom over me, making me feel like some silly damsel in distress.