Riley's Pond (New Adult Romance) (29 page)

Nobody knew about my plan. Not even Jaxson, whose departure date got postponed for two weeks. Next Monday he’d ship out. I guessed Dad and his sarge buddy cut some deal so Jax could stay longer and watch over me. Talk about the world rotating the opposite direction.
Jax
guarding
me
.

I tossed my backpack onto the kitchen table and went straight for the coffeemaker.

“Riley, that thing will scratch the wood tabletop. Please put it on a chair,” my mother scolded, shepherding Dirk towards the garage. “And don’t be late again. Your father said if he gets another call from that Sylvia woman in the attendance office, your job at Barney’s is over.”

“
Mom…
”

Dirk wrangled out from under Mom’s arm, nearly spilling her coffee. “Dirk!”

“Sorry, Mom!” followed after his clonking footsteps running up the stairs. “I forgot my homework,” he shouted before slamming his bedroom door.

“Honestly,” my mother mumbled. Her eyes lifted to the ceiling. I decided God lived in our attic, right over the kitchen. “One daughter? Would that have been too much to ask?”

I bent and kissed the top of her head, desperately fighting the urge to tease her about the gray starting to form a silver stripe against her fake blonde hair. “Someday we’ll all marry sex starved girls and you’ll have three daughter-in-laws. Hell, you’ve probably already got at least one granddaughter from Jaxson somewhere in the world.”

She slapped my arm. “That’s not funny, Riley.” Her expression softened and her thumb brushed over the permanent crease between my brows. “Riley, you’ll find someone special again, I promise.”

I stepped out of her reach and Dirk reappeared, breathless, holding a fistful of paper. Mom’s attention turned to him, lecturing him all the way through the laundry room about how wrinkled his homework would be. “Don’t be late, Riley!” were her parting words before the garage door slammed.

I poured a cup of coffee and stepped out onto the deck to drink it. The morning fog hovered, dampening the railing of the deck and hiding the thicket behind in a misty gray curtain. Unable to stop my thoughts from wandering, I let them trail off to an imaginary place where Taylor and I were still together…holding hands or touching body parts, depending on how long I had to daydream.

Jaxson’s voice destroyed the fantasy of Taylor’s lips about to press mine, reeling me back to my hellish existence. “Bro, someone’s here to see you.” I spun around, puzzled. “Lydia Daniels,” he whispered.

I spied her through the glass door.

“What’s
she
doing here?”

“Said she needs to talk to you. Do you want me to send her out so you have some privacy?”

“No. Anything she has to say needs a witness present. Or a bodyguard. I still blame her for Taylor leaving.”

“Bro, don’t go there again. Please. Let go.”

“
Never
.”

I muscled past him, making no attempt to hide my disgust toward Mrs. Daniels. I set my mug on the counter. “What do you want?” I asked, mustering as much contempt as possible.

In her trembling fingers dangled an ivory envelope with mangled corners. She held the envelope out to me. “Here. This came in the mail yesterday. Apparently, I’m an afterthought, or a threat.”

“What is it?”

“Open it, Riley.” She paced the length of the dining room, muttering. “Saturday. I can’t believe she’d do such a thing.” She stopped and faced me, just as I pulled the engraved invitation from the gold lined envelope. “You were right. Michael’s a monster.”

I read the gold embossed words, one phrase in particular, over and over.

…pleased to announce the marriage of Taylor Grace Wilson and Michael Bradford Barnes. Celebrate their joyous union by attending a reception held in their honor…

“
They’re married?” I choked, feeling the warm wet trail of a single tear crawl over my cheek.

“
This
Saturday. Michael moved the wedding up, according to Grace.”

“Taylor?” I rasped, tasting snot mixed tears dripping off my top lip. “Is she okay?”

Lydia shrugged, her own eyes shimmering. “No one will let me talk to her. I believe her mother would say something if she wasn’t. My invitation is just a courtesy. Grace said Michael only wants immediate family present for the ceremony.”

“He’s keeping her isolated,” Jaxson chimed in. “Easier to keep her under his control if there’s not a lot of outside influence.”

“Trapped is more like it,” Mrs. Daniels sneered. “I can’t believe I didn’t see the signs before. The way Michael shadowed her wherever she went, never giving us a moment alone. When I think back to those last couple of days…how quiet Taylor was after I returned—”

“Shut up already! I don’t want to hear
Michael’s
name again. Ever!”

I rushed up the stairs, leaving Lydia Daniels alone with Jax. I couldn’t handle another word out of the woman’s mouth.
She
brought Michael to Wellsville.
She
ruined everything.
She
not only destroyed Taylor’s life, but mine as well.

My fist clenched the wedding invitation
.
I looked at the clock. First period was well under way. Dad would be getting “the call” any minute and I’d be grounded. That meant I barely had an hour to act on the thoughts rambling in my head. Dad would come here if I didn’t show up at school by next period. Wonder how he’d handle finding me absent from
home
?

I grabbed my duffel bag, dumping in a change of clothes, shoes, and a pillow for sleeping on the bus. Fumbling between the bedding and mattress, I located my ticket to Boston. I shoved my iPod and earphones in my pocket and grabbed the wad of cash I’d been saving from under the old aquarium in the top of my closet. Almost four hundred dollars.

As soon as I heard the front door shut, I made my way down the stairs, rounding the corner to the kitchen and smacking into Jax. He tugged the strap slung over my shoulder.

“What’s up with the duffel bag?”

“Nothing.”

“You lie like a rug, Riley. What’s going on?”

I scuffed my toe against the tile. “I’m going to Boston. I’ve got to stop Taylor from marrying that freak.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know, Jax. But I can’t sit on my ass waiting for ‘justice to be served’. I didn’t protect her before, but I can sure as hell give it one last shot.”

“How are you getting there?”

“What are you? My surrogate parent?” I held up the bus ticket. “Satisfied?”

“So what do I tell Mom? She’ll be furious. And Dad? Shit Riley. You could blow the case wide open. That ass could walk free!”

“He won’t be walking anywhere when I’m through with him. At least not standing up straight.”

“Jail’s not worth it, Riley.”

“No, but Taylor is.”

Jax didn’t argue my statement. He scrubbed the dark stubble covering his head. “Don’t move. Give me fifteen minutes and don’t answer the phone.” He took the stairs two at a time.

“Huh?”

Jax stuck his head out of his bedroom. “I’m going with you. We’ll take Bessie.”

Bessie
was Jaxson’s restored Boss 302 Mustang. Candy apple red, the engine bored out to peak performance, fat tires and chrome mags that shone brighter than the sun when polished. The scent of the black leather interior, mingled with just the right combination of air fresheners hanging from the cigarette lighter, could be bottled and labeled “SEX.”

I dropped my bag in the entry, placing my bus ticket on the credenza. I hurried back to the kitchen and wrote a note, propping it against the fire hydrant jar full of dog treats. I grabbed a box of Cheese Nibs from the pantry.

“Dude, you’re not eating in my car.”

“Jax, we’ll to have to drive twenty-four-seven to get there in time. We’re eating in the car.”

“You will vacuum every speck of imitation cheese dust when you bring her back, understand?”

I slung my bag over my shoulder and shoved a baseball cap on my head. “Bessie or Taylor?”

“Both. I hope. Now let’s get the hell out of here before Dad pulls up. We’re both in deep enough shit as it is.”

I locked the front door, leaving my common sense beside my bus ticket on the entry table. The rules of the game just changed. Jax became my partner-in-crime, supporting me in a plan I hadn’t created yet. Hopefully by the time we reached Boston, I’d receive a revelation telling me exactly what to do.

Until then, I’d enjoy my box of cheese crackers and daydream.

Thirty

BATTLE PLAN

Jaxson

When I pulled up to a sleazy motel off the interstate in Connecticut, Riley went ram-rod straight in the passenger seat. “Why are we stopping here? We’re almost there!”

“I’m exhausted and so are you, not to mention we have no plan once we arrive in Boston. Do you even know where this ‘blessed event’ is taking place? Boston isn’t Wellsville, Riley.”

“Ellsville,” he corrected under his breath.

“Shut the fu—”

“Fine! I get it. Four hours, Jax. That’s it. I can’t risk being late. Shit, that asshole has probably talked her into eloping. This could all be for nothing.”

“Riley, for the love of God!” I shouted, exasperated with his attitude.

I threw open the driver’s door and reached behind the seat to grab my own duffel bag. Everything I needed for training camp was packed inside. As soon as Riley stopped Taylor from saying “I do” and I helped him hide Michael’s body, I’d be on a plane for Virginia to catch my unit. I just had one more loose end to tie up. Call Dad.

Disturbing
described the room when we opened the door. Two beds with mattresses sagged close to the ground, framed a small night table missing part of a leg. So that’s why the huge yellow page directories were still in print. Dive motels across the nation used them to hold up broken furniture. I held the coffee carafe up for inspection. A milky residue swarmed the glass.

“We’ll get coffee on the way in the morning.”

“Morning! I didn’t agree to a fucking
overnight
stay!”

“Calm down Riley. These walls are almost transparent they’re so thin. You going off half crazed will summon the police, if not an entire S.W.A.T. team and chopper crew. We’ll both be in jail instead of Boston. Dad will leave our carcasses behind bars to rot and Taylor will be the bride of Frankenstein, so drop the ‘drama queen’ routine.”

I tossed my duffel bag onto the bed near the door, trying not to imagine how many millions of bedbugs I sent scurrying. I’d need to sleep with one eye open not only to keep Riley from escaping, but to make sure my body didn’t get carried off by an oversized arachnid during the night.

“I’ll take this…
bed.
God, I can’t wait to see the bathroom.”

Riley dropped into the vinyl chair in the corner next to what I surmised to be a television. His long legs stretched out and his head lulled to the side against the back of the chair.

“I’ll sleep here.” His eyes slowly closed.

“I’m going to check on the car. You sleep. I promise we’re out of here before the sun comes up and we see this room in daylight.

“Whatever.” Riley’s words already slurred. His arm fell limp to the side of the chair and I slipped quietly out of the room to make the dreaded call.

I used the disposable cell phone I bought at one of the gas stations we stopped at early this morning. The last thing I needed was Dad tracing the call until I was certain he’d be on board.

“Sheriff Martin.” The voice sounded clipped, edgy. His stone heart failed to beat by the sound of his frigid tone.

“Dad. It’s Jax.”

I should have had a note pad to write down all the new combinations of swear words he used, some I’d never heard of and thought quite creative. In the background, Mom shrieked, then started using her own “gosh darn” church approved cuss words. When my dad realized I didn’t respond, he stopped to acknowledge the silence.

“Son? You still there?”

“Are you through? I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Cut the cocky attitude. Where the hell are you? Please tell me Riley’s with you.”

“Yes, he is, and don’t insult your profession by pretending you don’t know where we are.”

“Your mother found the bus ticket when she got home from work. Why now?”

“Didn’t you see Riley’s note?”

“What note?”

“The one next to Lucky’s treat jar. Lydia Daniels stopped by yesterday morning. Taylor’s getting married tomorrow afternoon. Riley’s hell-bent on stopping the wedding and I came along to make sure he didn’t do something stupid.”

“
You
? Sorry, that’s not exactly comforting. The treat jar? Wait.”

Dad grunted. His pastries surrounded his “waisty.”

“Here’s the note. It must have slid to the floor when Dirk put the mail on the counter.” He mumbled the words Riley wrote. “So what diabolical plan has Riley cooked up? How many felonies will be committed?”

“Aside from murdering Michael, there really isn’t a plan. That’s why I called. Dad, you’ve got to do something.”

“Jax, it isn’t that simple.”

“Don’t give me your bullshit about following procedures! I didn’t get a ‘join the army and stay out of jail’ pass through any ethical channels. Rub that damn magic lamp you have stuffed in your desk drawer and tell your fucking genie to grant Riley’s wish! You can’t let him down! I won’t let you. Don’t you get it? He
loves
Taylor. He will do
anything
to save her from that asshole!”

“And what if I can’t Jax?”

“Then make sure we share the same jail cell.
One
of us is going to help Riley. If you won’t, I will.”

“What about Sargent Adams? Does he know you’re A.W.O.L.? I’m no magician, Jax. I can only save one of your sorry asses.”

“Then make it Riley’s. I’ll cover my own. And I’m not A.W.O.L. until midnight tomorrow. As long as I’m on that airstrip in Virginia before the clock strikes midnight, I get to keep my glass slippers.”

“I’ll see what I can do. What time’s the wedding?”