Surrender (22 page)

Her eyes dance. “What’s wrong with that?”

I look at the floor. “More than you think.” I glance at her. “It’s not a glamorous life, Marisela. I’m not a supermodel jetting around Europe. I’m a dancer in Corpus. Get the romantic notions out of your head. Look how much it’s cost me.”

“You mean Mom and Dad?” She frowns. “They’ll never be happy with
anything
you do. That’s another thing I’m tired of living with,” she says angrily. “Mom bashing you.”

“Running away from home won’t change it.”

“I didn’t run,” she corrects. “I took a cab; it only cost me fifty dollars. And it’s perfectly legal—I’m seventeen.”

She’s right. Sixteen is the legal age in Texas to leave home and quit high school. “Trust me,” I say. “You don’t want to follow in my footsteps. You’ll be in college in less than a year. Suck it up, and deal with Mom’s shit for a little longer.”

“Why can’t I live with you? I hate Odem.”

She’s always welcome. Always. I take a deep breath. “Want some tea?” I flip the kitchen light on.

“Sure.” She scampers by and starts rummaging through my cabinets.

“Tofu? Soy crisps? Vegetarian bacon bits? Seriously, Robyn? Where’s the chocolate?”

I point to a drawer. She opens it and raids my Hershey’s Kisses stash. “We should call Mom,” I suggest.

Marisela turns, her face scrunched. “No.”

I mix milk and sugar in our tea, stir, and offer her a mug. “Yes. No matter what you’re thinking right now, Mom is worried.”

“Maybe.” She shrugs and takes a long drink. “So where’s the hottie you texted me about?”

I almost choke on my tea. “Garrick is out of town.”

“Oh.” She looks wholly disappointed. “I want to meet him.”

“Someday you will. I promise.”

We move from the kitchen to the living room. Marisela sits on my rocking chair. I question her further. “So, what’s really going on?” I’m not sure she’s told me everything.

“Dad caught me sucking face with Richard last night.”

Teenage hormones; I’m not shocked. “And?”

“He told me I’d never go on another date as long as I live under his roof.”

“Are you in love with Rich?”

She rolls her eyes. “No.”

“Do you blame Dad?”

“If that was the only thing he did, I’d say no. But he called you a harlot and quoted the scriptures.”

I kick my sandals off and rest my feet on the coffee table. “According to the Bible, I’m pretty close to being one. Never get mad at someone for telling the truth.”

“Well . . .” She places her mug on the coffee table. “I don’t think you are.”

“It’s hard to change what you believe, Marisela. Mom and Dad are traditional Catholics. They raised us pretty much the same way. Although I deeply regret what happened between us, I still respect them for not compromising their values.” She needs to respect our parents, regardless of my shattered relationship with them. I don’t want her making the same mistakes I have and suffering the same consequences. “The past is the past.”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t think you should let them off that easy, Robyn. What’s the point of going to church three days a week, volunteering, and participating in community activities if they can’t do what Jesus said to do?”

I’m silenced by her young wisdom. “I can’t answer that question.”

“I can.” She sounds so protective and I adore her for it. “They have more than enough money to help you pay for school. But no . . .” She flips her long bangs. “Instead, they sit around complaining about everything.”

“Listen.” I lean forward. “You’re certainly entitled to your opinions. But I caution you to keep them to yourself. Mom has little to no tolerance for anyone who disagrees with her. Bide your time—college is just around the corner.”

“Yeah.” She sighs. “But look where you are. I mean, this is a great apartment, but your life is so . . .” She pauses.

“What?”

Her gaze darts around the living room, then back to me. “Lonely. You have school and no one to share your life with.”

She’s too much for a seventeen-year-old. “Very lonely sometimes,” I admit. Without Macey, and now Garrick, I don’t know where I’d be. Part of that is my fault. I cut myself off from relationships with high school friends. I hide a lot. It may not be apparent to someone standing outside my world, but emotional unavailability is like living in a closet. But I’m slowly emerging. If I can turn things around with my family someday, fine. If not, no harm done—nothing in my universe will change. That’s what happens when you’ve already hit rock bottom emotionally. The only way out is up.

“Thanks for your love, kiddo,” I say. I quickly change the subject. “Time to call Mom.”

Marisela hands me her cellphone. I dial. Mom picks up on the first ring.

“Marisela.” She sounds desperate. “Where are you?”

“It’s Robyn, Mom.”

“What . . . where’s Marisela?”

I tell her.

“I’m driving over,” she says.

“Let her stay the night,” I suggest. “I’ll bring her to Driscoll after you get off work tomorrow night.”

“You’ll drop her off at noon, the beginning of my shift.”

I agree, then Mom hangs up.

“See,” Marisela points. “She’s a—”

“Don’t.” I refuse to allow my sister to curse our mother. “No matter how disagreeable she is, or how overbearing she acts, she’s still your mother.”

“Hah.” My sister is stubborn. “You believe whatever you want, Saint Robyn. I know better.”

Someone knocks.

I slide off the couch and jog to the door. It’s Craig. After what he did for me tonight, I owe him the courtesy of a thank you. I open the door with a smile. “Lost?”

“No.” He pushes by me and checks my kitchen and living room. Stunned by Marisela, he stops, then looks at me. “Am I seeing double?”

“Nope,” I assure him. “That’s my little sister.”

“More like mini-you,” he comments.

“Is this Garrick?” Marisela hops off the rocking chair.

I shake my head. “Craig.”

“Asshole Craig?”

Oops.
“Sorry.” I cringe.

Taking it like a champ, he says, “She
really
is your sister.”

I know he wants to talk privately, so I turn on the TV and hand my sister the remote. “Stay here. We’re stepping outside for a second.” She nods and flings herself on the couch.

Once outside, Craig gives me a distressed look. “I’m sleeping here tonight.”

I gaze at him, dumbfounded. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Anything you say won’t change my mind,” he vows. “It’s either the couch or I camp in my Mustang.”

I eye his red Shelby GT500 enviously. Unfortunately, it shames my little Camaro. “Don’t talk about what happened tonight in front of my sister, okay?”

He agrees.

“You can sleep on the couch.” He doesn’t need to tell me why he’s here.

As I turn to go back inside, Craig touches my arm. “Robyn.”

“Please, don’t.” I stare into his eyes. No more declarations of love. I can’t handle it. Not from Garrick or him.

“I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time about everything. I’ll back off.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Really? I’m supposed to believe you’ve had an epiphany and suddenly decided to accept my relationship?”

He huffs. “Don’t you know an apology when you hear one?”

“Depends who’s saying it, Craig.” I study his features.

“I don’t like what happened tonight,” he says. “And if you were my girlfriend, I’d get pissed. Garrick isn’t here to defend you; I am. I feel responsible for you while he’s gone and guilty for everything.”

“One chance,” I say firmly. “If you step out of line, I swear I’ll kill you.”

He nods. I open the door. “Come inside.”

I turn into Robyn’s apartment complex at nine on Sunday morning. My flight landed at midnight. I went home and crashed. I’m desperate to see her. I drive around the corner and find Craig’s car parked next to hers. My hackles go up. Rage overpowers joy. I skid into a parking space and get out.
What the fuck?
I leave for a week and this guy snakes his way back into her life? I’ve warned him in no uncertain terms to never come back here. I bang on the front door.

No answer. I punch it. Robyn answers, dressed in a nightgown with no robe, rubbing her eyes. She’s beautiful in the morning. My cock throbs, but it doesn’t minimize the anger I feel.

“Where is he?” I growl, looking over her shoulder.

“Who?” She’s obviously tired.

“Craig.”

“Give me a chance to wake up. Shit.” She points toward the living room. “On the couch.” She splays her hands on my chest. “Don’t start anything, Garrick, please.”

I swallow. How would I feel if she showed up at my front door ready to start crap with Gretchen first thing in the morning? “All right.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Lately there are two sides to me: the gentleman I was raised to be and the raving lunatic that wants to kill anyone that gets too close to Robyn. I ease past her and walk into the living room. He’s still asleep. I’m relieved to see he’s wearing jeans and a Devil’s Den pullover. I look over my shoulder. Robyn is standing behind me. “Why’s he here?”

“It’s a long story.”

She’s checking me out. “Come here.”

Her tentative approach makes me smile inwardly. Not the reunion I’d hoped for. This shit will change after she moves in with me. I wrap my arms around her.

“Robyn?”

I look up. There’s a taller version of my girlfriend wearing cartoon pajamas standing by the stairs. “Who’s this?”

Robyn pulls away. “Garrick,” she says. “This is my sister, Marisela.”

“The hottie.” Marisela throws me a flirty look.

I snicker. “Is that what Robyn told you?”

“And a few more choice descriptors,” she says. “And this one . . .” She peeks at Craig. “Not sure what to make of him yet.”

“How about you keep it to yourself.” Craig’s eyes pop open.

“Maybe,” Marisela answers irreverently. “When’s breakfast?”

“We can make a run to H-E-B,” I suggest.

“There’s plenty of food here,” Robyn counters.

“If you like chawing on cardboard.” Marisela is more obstinate than Robyn. I’m intrigued.

“Or you can ride with me.” Craig sits up, looking at Marisela. “Whatever you want, kid.”

Marisela’s face twists into a scowl.

“I don’t know . . .” Robyn thinks it over.

“Come on, sis,” Marisela begs. She leans close to Robyn and whispers, “I’d never look twice at this guy—so don’t worry about him coming on to me.”

Craig frowns at Marisela. I smile at her—she’s a surprisingly smart girl.

Robyn coughs. “All right,” she concedes. “Half an hour, no more.”

As soon as Craig and Marisela leave, I’m all over Robyn. Her breasts are pressed hard against me, her supple lips feel like heaven. “I missed you, little bird.” She runs her fingers down my crotch. I grit my teeth—I can take care of both of us before her sister gets back.

“I can see that.”

I tilt her chin up. “I didn’t want to start anything in front of your sister, but you know I have to ask.” I exhale slowly. “Why did Craig sleep on your sofa last night? You know I don’t want him here.” She averts her eyes at first. I curse myself for making her feel uncomfortable, but I refuse to overlook this. Craig is a threat.

“We had a tiny problem at the club last night. He didn’t want me to be alone.”

“A tiny problem?” Doubtful.

“A customer was harassing me, that’s all.”

“Who?”

“Just a random asshole.” Robyn’s eyes grow round. She’s lying. My baby just lied to me. I fist my hands. Why?

Our lips meet and my body jerks violently. I love her so damn much. Does she really think she can cover this up? She starts to massage my chest and shoulders. I groan. I can’t resist her touch. I want to be inside, want her so bad my hands shake. I cup her backside with both hands. We kiss for a long time. I want to rip her clothes off and screw her where Craig slept so she never thinks about him again. Finally I maneuver her toward the couch. Just as I’m about to lower her, the front door opens . . .

“We’re back,” Marisela announces as she scampers into the living room with two grocery bags in her hands. “Sorry . . .”

I release Robyn, smile at her sister, and throw Craig a
fuck you
look. “Ready for breakfast?” I ask, keeping my temper in check.

“Eggs and bacon—
real
bacon,” Marisela laughs.

“Make it quick,” Robyn says. “We can’t be late getting you to the hospital.”

My mother meets us in the lobby at noon. She takes one look at Garrick and frowns. Forgoing any greeting, she says, “Did he spend the night at your apartment while Marisela was there?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and silently count to three. I open them again, choosing to disregard her question. She needs to be formally introduced to my boyfriend first. “Mom, this is Garrick,
my boyfriend.
” No reaction. No recognition whatsoever.

“Marisela,” Mom addresses my sister. “Go to my office.”

“But Mom . . .”

“Young lady,” Mom starts.

Marisela gives me a puzzled look. My heart aches—I want her to stay with me. But I know she deserves a better life than I have. “Do as Mother says,” I encourage her. I give her a big hug. “We’ll be together soon,” I whisper. She kisses my cheek, waves to Garrick, then stomps away.

“See what a negative influence you are? If only you’d listened to me, Robyn . . .” She makes a choking sound, but then quickly recovers. She gives me the evil eye.

Garrick looks between me and Mom. “Dr. Gonzalez,” he surprisingly intervenes. “Robyn didn’t have anything to do with this.”

I blow a curl from my face and wait for Mom’s brain to implode. She doesn’t like strangers involved in family affairs. She eyeballs Garrick and purses her lips.

“Do you think maybe you can leave my daughter and me alone?”

Garrick releases a breath. “I don’t think I can,” he states. “She’s been alone far too long, don’t you think?”

I nearly faint. No one has ever confronted my mother, much less denied her anything.

Mom clears her throat. “I don’t know who you think you are, but this is none of your concern.”

“I’m concerned with
anything
that involves your daughter.” Garrick reaches for my hand. I look up at him in awe. “Robyn and I care deeply about each other. I wish you’d acknowledge what a wonderful daughter you have. For your sake, ma’am, I pray someday you will.”