Takedown Teague (Caged #1) (26 page)

“Well, maybe we’ll get one of the regular rooms and use the leftover money to pay for it.  I don’t need him showing up at the crack of dawn and interrupting my fun again.”

“Maybe.”  Tria shifted around a little bit to get comfortable.  “But that suite was amazing.”

It was entirely possible that I was going to have to do a little more pride swallowing.  Tria shifted again.

“I’m going to fall off,” she said.

“I’m not going to let you fall,” I told her.  I tucked my face into her hair and inhaled before touching my lips to the edge of her ear.  “Go to sleep.”

Her body rose and fell with a deep breath, but she settled against me, and soon I could hear the regulated breathing of sleep.  I tightened my grip a little and lay my head next to hers, trying to expel thoughts of the past from my mind.

I fell asleep with a vague memory of the smell of sweat and a bitter taste in the back of my throat.

*****

I woke to soft, female voices.

“I can’t believe you’re sleeping like that.”

Tria shook with quiet laughter.

“He gets kind of a death-grip,” she said.  “He’s like this every night.”

“So you
are
living with him?” Nikki asked for confirmation.

“Yes.  It wasn’t really planned; it just sort of happened.”

“I had it all planned from the beginning,” I mumbled with my eyes closed.  “Welcome to my parlor and all that shit.”

Tria laughed aloud as she turned slightly to smack my arm.

“You did not!”

She wriggled, and I abruptly released her from my grasp, leaving her to fall to the floor with a thump.  Nikki laughed and walked away from us and into the kitchen.  I rolled over and peered over the edge of the couch.  Tria lay on her back with a surprised look on her face.  Her hair was all over the place—and from the position on her back, it framed her face in a wild tangle of frizzy strands.

“Your hair makes you look like one of those chicks from an eighties rock video,” I told her.

“Thanks a lot!”

I gave her a half smile.

“You’re beautiful,” I told her as she sat up and tried to calm the mass of hair.

“I’m surprised I have any hair left,” she mused, “the way you are always trying to use your nose to build a nest in it!”

I laughed.

“You smell good,” I said with another smile.  “If I could figure out what you were putting on your hair that smelled like that, I’d probably just bathe in it.”

“You are
not
right!” Her information wasn’t news to me.

“Anyone want breakfast?”  Nikki stood near the wall by the kitchen and held up a tray of what appeared to be gigantic muffins.

Tria quickly fumbled around inside her purse and without too much trouble came up with a hair band.  I was always surprised at how quickly she managed to find shit in there.  I peered over the edge of the Purse of Doom—feeling brave—and glimpsed inside as she wrapped her hair in a bun at the top of her head.  I couldn’t figure out what any of the shit in there was, and I quickly retreated until I was a safe distance from the potential event horizon of the thing.

After breakfast—which was awesome though I wouldn’t eat more than one of the huge things—Tria pulled me to the side.

“Well, she still intends to go through with it,” Tria informed me.  “I’m going to stick with her today and help her get ready.”

“What am I supposed to do?” I asked, trying not to sound petulant.

“Can you keep Brandon company?”

“Seriously?”

“He’s nervous and freaking out,” Tria whispered as she glanced over her shoulder.  “I don’t know what you said to him last night, but he keeps asking her if she’s sure she wants to do it.  She does—I can see that now—but he’s not so sure anymore, and that’s got her all upset.  He needs to be there for her as much as I do.”

“This is too fucked up,” I mumbled under my breath.

“Please, Liam,” Tria implored, and I couldn’t bring myself to say no.

So as the women-folk locked themselves in the bedroom, I was stuck trying to entertain myself all day with a guy who I really didn’t want to be anywhere near.  Lucky for me, he didn’t seem to be in much of a talking mood.  For the most part, we smoked cigarettes and drank beer in silence on the porch.

As the afternoon dragged on, Brandon was getting more and more tense.  I was trying to make sure he paced himself and ate something throughout the day so he wasn’t totally shit-faced by the time we were supposed to go to whatever fucked up little magical altar in the woods where this was all going to take place.  I glanced over at Brandon’s empty bottle between his hands, noticed the condition of my own, and figured it was time for another.

“Want me to grab you one?” I asked as I stood up.

Brandon just nodded, so I headed inside to the fridge.  Through the window, I stared at the water pouring from the sky and wondered if it was ever going to fucking stop.  How was it that the whole town didn’t just float into the sea?  I also wondered if my jacket was going to be enough to keep me from being absolutely soaked before the whole thing was done.

I couldn’t believe I was actually going to hang out and watch a public train.

Before I got back to the front door, I heard an unfortunately familiar voice.

“Where’d the bike come from?”

“Demmy,” Brandon replied.

With determination—but for what, I wasn’t sure—I opened the door and stepped back out onto the porch.  Douchebag looked up immediately.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” Keith glared at me with flared nostrils.

I was never one to turn down boobs, but punching this asshole in the face just might be worth the loss.

There was a part of me that was highly amused by the whole thing.  I could tell by the wide-eyed look Douchebag flickered between me and Brandon that he had no idea I was here.  I could also tell by Brandon’s nonchalant attitude that he didn’t mind me being here anymore, and he also didn’t give a shit that Keith was pissed off about it.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Keith yelled at Brandon.  “Do you know who this asshole is?”

“He came with Demmy…er…
Tria
,” Brandon replied.

“He’s the one I warned you about!”

I walked casually over to Brandon and handed him his beer.  I turned to Keith and kept looking at him as I tilted my own beer to my lips just as casually, then pulled out a smoke and lit it.

“You want one?” I asked Brandon.

“Yeah,” he replied.

Holding in the smirk was impossible as I handed Brandon a cigarette, then held out my lighter, flicked it, and lit the smoke for him.  I knew how friendly and natural the whole action would look from Keith’s point of view, and the only thing that might have amused me more would be his arrival while I was squeezing Tria’s ass with my tongue down her throat.

Yeah, I could be a dick when I wanted to be.

“You don’t smoke!” Keith shouted.

Brandon just shrugged as he inhaled.  He had definitely gotten the hang of it over the past day, and he blew the smoke out in a long cloud.  Keith just looked back and forth between us for a minute, and I tried to hold in the smirk and look like I was more interested in my beer than anything else going on around me.  Finally, he glared at me again.

“You are not welcome here,” the douchebag said to me.

“I’m just hanging out,” I said.  “You know—supporting my girlfriend while she supports his wife.”

I gestured toward Brandon with my thumb a couple of times as I let the word
girlfriend
slip out just as casually as I had lit Brandon’s cigarette.  Keith’s face darkened, but his back straightened up as he seemed to get control over himself.  He stood taller as he turned to Brandon.

“This area is reserved for people in our community,” Keith said.

Brandon stood on the top step of the porch.  I leaned against a post behind him, which I hoped would continue to hold the roof up even with the extra force of my shoulder against it.  Keith went on.

“You know how outsiders can affect us, and you were already warned about this one and how he has influenced one of our own.  How can you let him stand there?”

Brandon glanced over his shoulder and up at me.  The doubt in his eyes was obvious along with the same sorrow and confusion that had been there all day.  The tension around his eyes lessened as he looked at me, and he gave me a bit of a grin.  Keith’s little speech might have been pretty once, but it wasn’t hitting home for Brandon any more—I could see that and assumed Keith could, too.

“He seems okay,” Brandon said with a shrug.  “He’s definitely no worse than that asshole Eric you hung out with from school.  Besides, he’s with Tria, and you were always going on about how Tria was one of us, no matter what.”

More smirking because I was pretty sure those same words had once been used by Keith, against Brandon.  From Keith’s narrowed eyes, I knew I was right.  Brandon leaned back a little and sipped his beer, and Keith must have decided to ignore him.

“I said you aren’t welcome here,” he told me again.

“And I pretty much ignored you,” I replied.  “You wanna go for round two?”

“Always about the fighting, isn’t it?” he said.  “Always about the violence.  Have you hit her yet?”

“Fuck you,” I said with a glare.

“You don’t belong here!” he bellowed.

“Well, you got that right,” I replied as I waved my hand toward Brandon and then back behind me and toward the house.  “I wouldn’t stand for this shit.”

“What have you told him?” Keith asked Brandon in disbelief.  “You shouldn’t be talking to him at all!”

“What does it matter?”

“Dammit, Brandon!” Keith yelled.  “I told you about him and how he’s screwing around with her!  You really want her involved with someone like that?”

Brandon looked over to me, and his shoulders rose and fell again.

“I dunno,” he replied quietly.  “I mean, he seems okay, and Tria really seems to like him.  I mean—it’s not like what he’s doing is illegal or whatever.”

“He fights in a fucking bar for cash.” Keith snarled and it was obvious he was losing the cool façade he had been trying to keep up.  It was funny, and I gave him a big smile as I took another sip of beer.

“Yeah, and you do what?” Brandon’s words were sharp.  “Wait around for your dad to retire or die so you can get his disability checks?  It’s not like you’re doing anything all that noteworthy.  When was the last time you even went fishing?”

“What the hell?”  Keith threw his hands up in the air.  “This guy is around for a couple hours and has you poisoned against your own people?”

“I’m not poisoned!” Brandon said. He pushed himself off the steps and stumbled a little.  “Everything I’m doing today is about my family, and we are a part of this community!  You think I want this?  You think I want to watch you lose your virginity with my wife?”

It just figured.

Keith’s hands clenched into fists, and he looked away from us with a tensed jaw.  I was pretty sure his dark complexion was the only thing hiding his embarrassment.

I couldn’t help myself; I snorted out a laugh.

“Well, at least you don’t have to worry about getting her actually turned on or anything,” I said with a nasty, cocky smile.  “By the time you get to her, she’ll be so full of cum you ought to be able to slide in pretty easi—”

The punch to my face wasn’t from the direction I expected it, and it caught me off guard.  I spun to my right, caught my balance before I fell over, and then looked to Brandon as I righted myself.  He was standing with his legs spread slightly and knees bent.  His hands were still in fists like he was ready to take me on fully, but I just held my palm out to him as I stood up straight.

“You’re such a tough guy,” Keith said with a sneer still plastered across his face and his own embarrassment forgotten for the moment.  “You don’t even defend yourself?”

“No reason to,” I replied as I rubbed my chin.  It was a pretty good hit for a guy without much muscle.  “I deserved that one.”

“Yes, you fucking did,” Brandon growled.

“I know, dude.  Sorry.  My mouth is on its own sometimes.”

Brandon narrowed his eyes for a second and then nodded briefly as his hands relaxed again at his sides.  He bent over and picked up his dropped cigarette and spilled beer.

“You just don’t get it,” Brandon said quietly.  “Nikki wants a baby, and I haven’t been able to give her one.  What am I going to do?  We don’t have health insurance, and there’s no way we could afford going through a doctor to have it done.”

“You’re doing it for your people,” Keith said.  He smiled down at Brandon as he nodded.

“I’d do anything for her,” Brandon said.  He got this faraway, dazed look in his eye, and I figured I shouldn’t have given him another beer.

“Yeah, we had that discussion,” I reminded him.  I rubbed at my chin a bit more, and it was pretty achy.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Keith grumbled as he looked between Brandon and me.  “What’s next?  He going to join in the ceremony?”

“Hell, no,” I replied.

“He’s going to be there,” Brandon said.

“I am?” I responded.  I was definitely going to need more beer.  I wondered if the peyote would be in a little bowl next to the chips and dip.

Brandon shrugged.

“You’re with Tria,” he said simply.  “You should be there with her.”

“Until she comes to her senses,” Keith said.  “Now that she’s back home, she’ll remember where her place is!”

“Tria has a home,” I said as I narrowed my eyes at him.  “With me.”

“Come on, Keith,” Brandon moaned.  “This shit is hard enough as it is.  Can you just lay off for tonight?”

“I can’t believe you are taking his side over—”

The front door opened then, and Keith halted his little rant as Tria came outside.  She had changed her clothes and wore a fitted shirt and long skirt that looked like it was made of soft, tan leather.  There were green beads down the arms and sides, creating a line all the way to the bottom of the skirt.

Tria looked at Keith and then quickly looked over to me.  I could see her checking out the side of my face, and I wondered how much of a mark there might be.

“You’re fighting already?”  She glared at me.

“I’m just taking the hits here, baby,” I said with a smile.  “No blood, no foul.”

Tria looked at Brandon then, who nodded and confirmed my story.

“It’s true,” he said.  “I hit him, and we’re all good.”

“You’re what?”  Tria’s eyes darted between us in disbelief, and I would have been lying if I said it didn’t amuse the hell out of me.

“It’s all good, babe—really.”  I raised up my bottle, and Brandon did the same before draining the rest of it.

“Babe?” she repeated with an eye roll.  “Seriously?”

“You prefer
sugar
?  Pumpkin?  Muffin?”

Tria groaned.

“I told you to stay away from him,” Keith said.  His voice was dark as he pointed a finger at her.

Tria didn’t look at him or respond.  Instead, she turned to Brandon.

“We’re set for tonight,” she said.  “Nikki wasn’t sure who was driving us up there.  We can’t take everyone in that car.”

“Well,” Brandon answered as he glanced from me to the douchebag, “Keith said before that he would take me and the guys—Luke, Devin, and Conner.  Sue was going to pick you and Nikki up.  Um…Liam could ride with us…?”

His voice trailed off, and he looked over at Keith as he spoke the half-question.  Keith rolled his eyes and looked away.  I considered punching him just for being rude, but Tria turned sideways right at the same time, and I got a good look at boob profile.  Reminded of my goal, I took a long breath to calm down.

“He is not going,” Keith said with certainty.

“Keith,” Tria said quietly, “I want him there.”

“Doesn’t matter what any of you want,” I said.  “If Tria goes, I go.  End of discussion.”

“You don’t have any rights here,” Keith informed me.  “You don’t get a say in this.”

Brandon suddenly spoke up.

“Community and tradition first.  Right, Keith?”

“Always.”

“Above our own wants and desires.”

“Exactly.”

“So, Nikki chose Tria to be with her—as per our tradition,” Brandon surmised.  “And as a member of our community—like you always say she is—Tria can bring her significant other with her, even if he’s not from Beals.”

Keith’s eyes darkened.

“So he rides with us,” Brandon proclaimed with a smile.

“Okay with me,” I shrugged.

The anger behind Keith’s eyes was undeniable, but there was also resignation.  Brandon had fought him at his own game and won.

“Who knows?” Brandon said as he raised his hands up with the palms toward the sky.  “Maybe he’ll see how awesome we are and decide to move back here with Tria after college.”

“Over my dead body,” Keith mumbled under his breath.

“Arrangeable,” I replied with a raised eyebrow.

He was about to say something, but a noise from behind me caught the attention of all of us.  Nikki stepped through the doorway in the strangest dress I had even seen.  It was mostly earth tones but with some orange and blue worked into it with beads—hundreds and hundreds of beads.  They made geometric patterns all across the top half of the body of it and around most of the sleeves as well.  It was high necked, long sleeved, and covered her completely.  As I looked closely, I thought the image in the center of the dress—over her stomach—was maybe supposed to look like a lobster.

It was…
interesting
.  I suppose it was beautiful if you like that kind of thing, but it wasn’t the least bit sexy, which I guess is what I thought it would have looked like, given the circumstances.

“You’re beautiful,” Brandon said with a wide, genuine smile.  “My mother’s dress fits you perfectly.”

“Thank you,” Nikki said simply.

“Your mother’s?” I heard myself ask.

“She wore it a long time ago,” Brandon said.

“Brandon was conceived in a ritual like this one,” Tria informed me quietly.

I just shook my head slowly, not really knowing which parts of all of this were the most disturbing.  I turned to Tria, and she reached out and pulled me by the arm until we were a few feet away from the rest of the group.  Keith and Brandon went back to talking to each other, and Nikki stood on the porch and watched the road.

“You sure you don’t want to just go to that shit-hole diner in town for a cup of coffee instead of this party thing?” I suggested, even though I knew it wasn’t in the cards.  I couldn’t have been less interested than if someone told me we were going to watch gay porn all night.