Chapter Four #2
“We don’t need anything,” Zeke said. “Zan sounded angry, so we were seeing what was up.”
“See? You are a mother hen,” Zander said.
“Can you boys take your argument out of the office, please?” his mother said.
“I am not a mother hen,” Zeke said as the three of them walked out.
“He’s a big-daddy cock,” Tobias said.
They all laughed and headed out to the parking lot. Once outside, Zander said, “Sorry I blew up in there. That accident changed me, man. I don’t want to be a burden or a problem anymore.”
“You’re not either of those things,” Zeke said.
Zander scoffed and glanced at Tobias. “Dude, am I the wild one? The carouser, the boundary pusher, the one who crosses so many lines you can’t see them anymore?”
The corner of Tobias’s mouth quirked. “Mads calls you rascally.”
“Nice try, but Mads says worse shit than that to my face,” Zander said.
Zeke shrugged. “None of that makes you a burden.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been saving my ass since we were kids.”
“I have not,” Zeke insisted.
“Bro, you didn’t go away to college your first year so you could help me graduate from high school.”
After Zander was diagnosed with dyslexia and ADHD, his parents had tried everything from medication and tutors to therapy and alternative teaching methods, but Zander had fought them tooth and nail.
It didn’t matter how supportive anyone was.
He didn’t want to be different. He refused to take the medication and made things difficult for teachers, tutors, and everyone else who had tried to help.
Zeke, a natural-born teacher and the most patient person Zander knew, was the only one who figured out how to help Zander.
He did it in private, somehow knowing that was what Zander needed.
They spent hours in the woods claiming to be playing while secretly working on homework and hidden under blankets with flashlights and books after bedtime.
In turn, Zeke was the only person Zander had ever allowed to yank his chain and rein him in when he got out of hand.
Now it was time to stand on his own and regulate his own behavior without a safety net, but in order to do that, he had to get through to Zeke and break his hard-earned habit, too.
“And you’re still doing it,” Zander said. “You can’t help yourself. It’s in the fabric of your being, and I appreciate everything you’ve ever done for me. But I don’t want to be a troublemaker anymore.”
“From what I’ve seen, that’s in the fabric of your being,” Tobias said.
That’s not far from the truth. “Yeah, well, not anymore. I’m done being that guy.”
“Zan, there’s nothing wrong with who you are,” Zeke said.
It was no wonder he’d gone on to become a special education teacher, but his career had been cut short when he’d gotten into a physical altercation with an asshole who had made derogatory comments about the kids.
Now, in addition to working with their family business, Zeke tutored middle schoolers and volunteered at the community center.
“Your filter’s set a little low, and you don’t think everything through, but that’s okay,” Zeke insisted.
That was putting it mildly, but Zander knew Zeke would never admit his biggest faults.
They would all give their lives for anyone who was in trouble, but Zeke was a different type of savior.
He had their mother’s superpower of seeing right through people’s strong facades, knowing who needed something extra and exactly what that extra was.
Only Zeke’s instincts were on steroids. He had some kind of sixth sense with nature and people.
“Look, I am glad you love me for who I am,” Zander said. “Without you, and everyone else, who the hell knows how I’d’ve fucked up my life. But you’re free, Zeke. Now you can use your superpowers to go out and get yourself a woman.”
Zeke scoffed.
Tobias laughed and followed it up with, “I respect where you’re coming from, man. Do you want me to ask Mads to stop checking up on you?”
Madigan had texted or called Zander nearly every day since the accident. “Nah. That would only hurt her feelings.”
“What the hell?” Zeke said. “You don’t want to hurt Madigan’s feelings, but you’re cool with telling me to fuck off?”
Zander clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Such a delicate little mother hen.” He and Tobias laughed.
“Asshole,” Zeke said.
“I’ve got to get out of here,” Tobias said. “I’m going with Mads to her gig tonight.”
“What is it this time? Puppeteering or musical storytelling?” Zander asked.
Madigan was one hell of a businesswoman and believed in following all of her dreams. She was a musical storyteller, a freelance puppeteer, and she did puppet therapy at the Lower Cape Assisted Living Facility (LOCAL).
She was also the founder and designer of the Mad Truth About Love greeting card line, which made light of the harder aspects of relationships.
“Storytelling, up in P-town,” Tobias said. “I’ll catch you guys later.”
“See ya,” they said in unison as Tobias walked away.
“You heading to the Salty Hog?” Zeke asked.
Their aunt Ginger and uncle Conroy owned the Salty Hog restaurant and bar, a Dark Knights hangout.
Before the accident, Zander would head over to the Hog after a quick shower, where he’d either pick up a woman for the night or hang out with his buddies.
But he’d been there a few nights ago, and instead of checking out women, he’d found himself listening for the voice he’d heard in the hospital.
Just as he’d been doing everywhere he went.
His parents were wrong. It wasn’t a nurse’s voice that had infiltrated his dreams and taken root someplace deep inside him.
He’d thanked each of the nurses who had cared for him, and none of them had that sweet, strong voice that continued to call to him as loud as the open road.
“Not tonight. What about you?”
“Aria and I are heading over to the Stonybrook Gristmill to see the herring run. She’s been acting funny again.
Distant.” Aria Bad was several years younger than Zeke and one of his closest friends.
He had tutored her when she was in high school, and now she was a tattooist at their cousin Tank’s tattoo shop.
Aria suffered from social anxieties, and Zeke was super protective of her.
Zander had a feeling he was also in love with her.
“Maybe she’s seeing someone.”
Zeke’s face contorted like he’d said something ridiculous. “She’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“She’d tell me if she was seeing someone.”
“Really? How many times has she called you up to brag about the hot guy she’s hanging out with?”
Zeke’s brows pinched. “She doesn’t do that.”
“Exactly.”
“I’d know if she was seeing someone.”
“Yeah? Remember how well Mads hid her booty calls with Tobias from us?”
Zeke’s eyes narrowed.
“Think about it, dude. Aria is gorgeous, smart, and she just might be the sweetest woman we know. Sure, she has social anxieties, but plenty of guys are equipped to help her with that. And her job is literally touching guys all day.”
Zeke’s jaw clenched.
“It’s not like she’s gonna wait around forever for your ass.”
“You know I can’t go there,” Zeke gritted out.
“Right, because you have too much in common and you have too much fun together,” he said sarcastically.
“She’s not into me like that, and we both know she probably shouldn’t be.”
His brother might be calm and restrained on the outside, but in the bedroom he had a darker side. One women sure as hell didn’t write home to Mama about. “No, we don’t. I think you shouldn’t assume.”
Zeke shook his head. “I’m her safety net. She’s got enough anxieties to deal with. She doesn’t need me fucking up our friendship.”
“Thank God you’re good-looking, because for a smart guy, you’re really fucking clueless.”
“See ya, Zan.” Zeke walked away.
“If she pulls out her phone more than twice tonight, she’s got a dude on the line,” Zander called after him.
Zeke flipped him the bird.
ON THE WAY home, Zander filled his tank with gas and headed into Cumberland Farms, aka Cumby’s, to grab something to eat.
As he perused the snack aisle, he heard someone humming.
He stilled, a tug of recognition stirring with him.
He moved to the end of the aisle, searching for the source.
There were a handful of people at the register and walking around the store.
He made his way through the store, checking each aisle; then he headed for the soda and coffee machines on the far wall.
As he came around the last aisle, he heard the soft singing voice that had plagued his thoughts for the last three months.
His heart beat faster, his gaze moving over the two teenage girls filling cups with soda to a curvy brunette adding several liquid creamer cups to her coffee.
She wore black spandex workout shorts and a pink hoodie and looked to be in her early twenties.
Her dark hair was pinned up in a ponytail, earbuds feeding the music that had her moving her full hips to a beat he couldn’t hear.
But that sweet, strong voice floated past with an intense familiarity, awakening something within him, drawing him forward like an invisible cable reeling him in.
She grabbed three more creamer cups and opened them, bobbing her head as she sang about a man-child running to her.
What the hell was she listening to?
“Fuck my freaking liiife,” she sang, her hips rocking and her head bobbing.
He touched her arm. “Excuse me—”
She looked up with a broad smile that lit up her big brown eyes and brought out the cutest dimples he’d ever seen. But as he said, “Hi,” her smile faltered and she stumbled backward, as if she’d seen a ghost, knocking her cup over and sending coffee spilling across the counter.
She gasped. “Shitshitshit.”
“Sorry.” They both reached for napkins at the same time, their hands bumping. She pulled hers away, those beautiful eyes darting to him again as he began mopping up the mess. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I…um…It’s…I don’t know what happened.” She threw the cup away, her cheeks pinking up.
“I tend to have that effect on women.” He finished cleaning up and threw out the napkins. “Let me buy you another coffee.” He grabbed a cup and turned back to her. “Diesel or unleaded?”
“You know what? I don’t need it. It’s a sign. I’m overcaffeinated already. I need to…” She pointed behind her, walking backward toward the door. “Thanks!”
She turned and hurried out of the store, leaving him staring after her, empty cup in hand, unable to believe he’d found the woman behind the voice. I knew you were real.
Fuck. He didn’t get her name.
He threw away the cup and flew out the door, looking for her. He scanned the cars parked out front and the ones at the pumps, but she was nowhere to be found. He ran to the side of the building in case she’d parked there, but the side lot was empty.
Cursing himself, he raked a hand through his hair and paced in front of the store.
The one time he’d sell his soul for a woman’s number, and he’d stood there, stunned as a schoolboy as she walked away.
What the hell? Maybe the accident had messed up his brain after all.
And why did she look like she’d seen a ghost?
I’ll find you, Angel, if it’s the last thing I do.