Robin in the Hood (Robbin' Hearts Series Book 1) (5 page)

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Authors: Diane J. Reed

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Robin in the Hood (Robbin' Hearts Series Book 1)
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Brandi pulled out a handkerchief with the word
G
r
a
c
e
l
a
n
d
embroidered on it and dotted mud off my lips. I wondered where on earth she expected to wash it.

“You do realize that’s how everything works here, right?” She added. “On the barter system?”

I saw my dad nod while he relished his hush puppy. I took a small bite of one myself and was stunned by the intense rush of flavor. Cheddar cheese, bacon and onion, all rolled together in a soft pillow of corn meal with a crispy crust. It was nothing short of . . . divine.

“See, most of us here are pretty low on cash,” Brandi said quietly, as if that glaring detail was any kind of secret. “And to be honest,” she crunched into a hush puppy and chewed, “we can’t really get into the other trailer parks. Some folks claim we’re too loco, if you know what I mean. But they’ll talk trash about anybody! So we just take care of each other: I do hair, Lorraine cooks, Granny gives the best advice in the whole county, and Bixby repairs leaky roofs and siding—when he’s not huffing paint, that is,” she sighed. “Just be careful not to light any cigarettes near his trailer, okay? Oh, and the Colonel and the TNT Twins keep guard against nosey cops and criminals, and especially the exes. Ain’t no secret ’round here that old boyfriends and girlfriends always cause the most trouble!” She chuckled a little. “Creek provides pretty much everything else you could ever need.”

“Creek?” I asked.

“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough,” she winked. “Chances are, he’s already done more for you than you could repay him for in a lifetime. Here, I think there are some tissues in this drawer.” She opened a bin beside a rusty oven and handed me a packet with
B
u
c
k
e
y
e
M
o
t
e
l
written on it, like it had been stolen. “A few swipes of these around your face, honey, and you’ll be as good as new. Call me if you need anything!”

“Wait, what’s your cell number? I left mine back at the—”

“T’ain’t no phones, silly!” Brandi roared, rocking back on her kitten heels. “They don’t work here anyhows. You just open up your door and let ’er rip.” She turned the door handle and leaned outside. “Howdy-doodle!”

Her voice echoed through the woods, but I didn’t exactly hear a reply. All I could detect was the sound of the TNT Twins blasting yet another target in the distance. And if I wasn’t mistaken, I thought I saw a man swing from a rope through the trees.

“Criminy,” Brandi sighed. “Bixby must be huffing paint again. And I wanted him to fix my toilet, too. Take a number, I guess.”

She shrugged and patted me on the back. “Well, if you need any help, sweetie, I’m in the silver Airstream to the right of the biggest maple tree over there, covered with thatched branches and leaves. Our trailers are all hard to spot, if you get my drift,” she grinned. “But don’t ever think that means we don’t know what’s goin’ on. Toodles!”

Brandi wiggled her fingers in my face before she headed out the door. “I’ll be back in the morning with some of Lorraine’s sausage and cheese grits. You’re gonna think you died and gone to heaven.”

“Right—heaven,” I mumbled uncertainly.

I tried to force a smile as she hopped down into the mud from our trailer that was barely half the size of my old dorm room at Pinnacle. All of a sudden, I craved my dry bed there with its overly starched sheets and aroma of industrial cleansers everywhere. At least it was clean! I gazed around our grubby trailer, which was so small that I could touch the kitchen table, the range, and an overhead bunk bed without moving an inch. Not to mention that it was covered from floor to ceiling in shades of “burnt orange”, “avocado” and “harvest gold” like some sicko shrine to reruns of
T
h
a
t

7
0
s
S
h
o
w
. I was afraid that if I squinted, my father in his pimped-out leisure suit might actually disappear into the sofa’s retro, hallucinogenic hues. Shaking my head, I folded my arms and glared at Dad.

“All right, start talking,” I demanded.

He looked at me, confused.

“How is it you’re so familiar with this place? Every time I turn around, you’re practically lip-synching with these people, like you’re totally used to their drill. Do you have relatives here or something? You always said our ancestors were English lords who came over and topped Cincinnati’s social register. Not backwoods bumpkins—”

My dad flinched.

No, more than that. A pained expression came to his face, as if my words had somehow pierced his . . .

His . . .

Soul.

Oh my gosh. Who was this guy, anyway? Just yesterday he was
t
h
e
Royle McArthur—the loudest, baddest, most infamous law-shark of the Tri-State region. He had no soul! And now all of a sudden he seemed like a total stranger?

To my astonishment, tears rimmed the corners of his eyes. My dad reached out his good hand and ran his fingers along my dark, jello-coated hair.

“Bootifull . . . bootifull baybee gurrll,” he said with a quiet sincerity, admiring the long strands, despite their stickiness.

I choked up in an instant.

For once in my life, I was utterly speechless.

“Go to the layk, Wobbin,” he whispered.

It took a moment for him to roll his tongue back into position to talk again.

“Everrthin be all rite. Jus go to the layk.”

Chapter 4

 

I shook my head as I walked alone through the thick woods, bewildered by my dad. It was like he’d put on a completely different face with me, one I’d never seen before. And he was so insistent that I go to the lake. Maybe he knew it was my only hope for a bath, or he thought I’d calm down once I cleaned up? Either way, it didn’t help matters that every time a twig snapped, I was terrified the TNT Twins might be at it again. Fortunately, I didn’t need a map after all to navigate their holes. The yellow circles of dry grass that polka-dotted the ground were enough to highlight their traps. I stepped gingerly around each one, keeping an eye out for any stray Attack Geese, when I spotted the sandy trail that led to the lake. Brushing aside a few honeysuckle branches, I pursued the path past a long bramble of twisted bushes and fallen sticks, when all of a sudden I saw it—

The setting sun.

Glowing gold across the water and shimmering on the wet sand.

It was so beautiful it took my breath away.

Before I realized it, I’d pressed my hand to my chest. Releasing a sigh, I let the sight fill me up for a few moments, feeling as if it could actually make my heart glisten inside. I closed my eyes for just a second, relishing the quiet. Then I glanced around.

There wasn’t a soul by the shore, or even in boats on the lake. It was as if I’d stumbled upon my own, private retreat.

I walked up to the water’s edge and sat down on the sand and stretched out my legs, allowing the warmth of the waning sun to soothe me a little, both inside and out. After such a crazy day, it felt good to let the calm of the gentle, lapping waves slowly seep into my bones. Leaning my head back, I heard the lonesome call of a bird overhead. When I glanced up, I saw a heron flapping its wide, gray wings.

My dad was right. Everything was okay now.

Remaining still, I noticed that the tree shadows had stretched into long lines across the lake. The darkening sky was inching towards twilight, so it crossed my mind that if I wanted to rinse myself off, I’d better go for a swim now before night fell.

Taking a deep breath, I stood up and slipped off my shoes and socks and walked out into the water.

It wasn’t nearly as cold as I’d expected.

Wiggling my toes in the soft, silty soil, I got bolder, and I took a few steps into the lake until I was up to my waist.

I waded deeper to my chest. Then to my shoulders.

And I began to giggle.

Not only was I up to my neck in some forgotten lake in the middle of nowhere, but there wasn’t a thing anyone at Pinnacle could do about it! With a giant thrust of my legs, I glided forward, feeling completely . . .

Free.

Free for the first time in my whole life.

There were no nannies or chaperones anymore. No society snoops masquerading as fundraisers or home room parents who secretly criticized every little thing I did. I was totally on my own out here.

And I loved it!

The only problem was that my heavy wool cardigan and pleated skirt felt like dead weights against my skin. I had half a mind to peel them from my body and let them float off into oblivion.

Feeling mischievous, I peeked around. What would it hurt? Absolutely no one was here, and the sky had gotten dark enough that a few stars had begun to twinkle. Scanning the horizon, I spotted a light shining over the tree tops that I was pretty sure marked the entrance to Turtle Shores, so I felt confident that I could find my way back. Giggling again, I peeled off my thick sweater, then unbuttoned my polo shirt and pulled it over my head. Wriggling my skirt from my hips, I was down to my Pinnacle-issue bra and underwear, which covered more skin than most old ladies’ swimsuits. I clutched my heavy uniform to my chest and swam awkwardly back to the shore and tossed the bundle onto the sand. With a few strong breast strokes that I’d finally mastered after years of enforced swim lessons, I headed to the middle of the lake, relishing the feel of the smooth water gliding over my skin. Pausing for a moment to catch my breath, I glanced up at the rising moon and smiled.

“Hello, beautiful,” I said, just drinking it all in.

“That’s exactly what I was about to say.”

I whipped around, swallowing way too much lake water. It tasted like lukewarm algae—

Oh my God—it was HIM!

Golden hair slicked back by the water. Rough-cut features that appeared dewy in the twilight. And there was no mistaking those piercing blue eyes and that deep scar across his cheekbone that crinkled into the shape of a dagger when his lips curled into a smile. The way his eyes lit up at the sight of me made everything all too clear—

All of a sudden, I realized it was no accident that he was beside me in Bender Lake.

He must’ve been stalking me!

Instantly, I curled my knees beneath my chest and thrust the biggest kick of my life in order to do a mad freestyle for the shore. Within seconds, I felt the guy’s elbow slip around my neck. He hugged me tight against his hard chest and engulfed me with his other arm until I couldn’t thrash at all, his powerful legs slowly pedaling to keep us afloat. Our heads were bobbing face to face, and I felt his rope-like muscles clamp down on me as tight as a cocoon, making me tremble. My chest heaved in a panic against his—cool skin against skin—but his strong arms kept me from moving an inch.

“You took my bank,” he said.

His words were barely above a whisper, but the fact that we were nose to nose and skin on skin made them ring inside my head like an alarm bell.

“It wasn’t your bank!” I cried, wriggling as fiercely as I could and feeling like a caged animal. “As I recall, you dared me to do it—”

Ha! I saw his intense, sapphire eyes narrow at that one, along with an indignant crease that formed over his eyebrows as he carefully studied my face. Sure, he might be drop-dead gorgeous in the twilight and scary-as-all-get-out, which was enough to unravel any young woman, but as his eyes searched mine, it hit me—

H
e
h
a
s
n
o
i
d
e
a
t
h
a
t
t
h
e
b
i
n
g
o
l
a
d
y
g
a
v
e
m
e
t
h
e
m
o
n
e
y
.

S
o
h
e
m
u
s
t
t
h
i
n
k
I

m
s
o
m
e
k
i
n
d
o
f
m
a
s
t
e
r
c
r
i
m
i
n
a
l
.

G
o
,
G
e
i
s
h
a
g
i
r
l
,
g
o
!

I love being a good actress at times like this! With a proud, upward thrust of my chin, I squinted my eyes in my most mysterious gaze, then put on a cocky smirk, just to drive him crazy.

“You know what the best part is about being an expert bank robber?” I said in a gloating tone, adding a wink to rub it in, “no one ever knows what you’re about to do next.”

With that, I sunk my teeth into the black tattooed snake on his forearm and thrust my foot into his chest, giving him a fierce shove.

Okay, so he was way too tough to scream. But his hold did release a little, and that’s all I needed. With laser focus, I broke free and headed to the shoreline like my life depended on it, my muscles burning with adrenaline. Two strokes, four strokes, hopefully all it would take was ten more! By the time I could feel the shore beneath my feet, and I stumbled to reach for my clothes on the sand, my heart was pumping so hard I thought it would explode. Quickly, I stood up and glanced over my shoulder for a second just to see how close behind me he was.

But there was no one to be found—

Anywhere.

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