9. This is Not a Drill
THIS IS NOT A DRILL
CHARLIE
I am wearing a fun pink top and my one pair of jeans that are both super cute and super comfortable, my belly is pleasantly full of street tacos, and I just got to relax at the movies with Reese and my brother, Miles.
I lean back in my seat in Miles’s car. “Thanks for tonight. After this week, I really needed it.”
Miles glances over at me. “Are you referring to work or your water woes?”
“Work. Other than the fact that our kitchen is completely unusable, the water woes have been manageable.”
Reese laughs. “She’s only saying that because it has provided her with ample flirting opportunities with our neighbor, Owen.”
“Oh, yeah?” Miles says .
At one point, I might have hated that Reese brought the subject up with a protective brother present because then I’d have to answer too many questions. But lately, I’ve loved every chance I get to gush about Owen.
“He’s just so cute! And sweet and funny and thoughtful.”
“You should hear her when he’s not around,” Reese says. “She’s basically one heart-eye emoji away from knitting his name into a throw pillow.”
I laugh. “He’s worth the embroidery.”
Miles chuckles. “Okay, but let’s talk about that flimsy wall of yours for a moment. I’ve trusted Owen ever since we fully vetted him after spying on him at his work when he first became your neighbor.”
“You guys spied on him?” Reese asks.
Miles seemed to have forgotten that we have someone not in the family business in the car. “We just did a little recon at the theater. A little hiding behind bricks just to see what he was like. You know, to try to tell if he was good enough for Charlie before she really started falling for him.”
They did a bit more than that. I found out later that my brothers had fully looked into Owen.
He came back clean enough that they gave him their stamp of approval, as long as he’s treating me right.
And predicated on whether my little crush grew into something big enough to need their approval, which it hasn’t yet.
“Anyway, Owen being a good guy doesn’t negate the fact that the plastic wall you share doubles your chance of a break-in.
Because if someone breaks into his side, they would see that plastic wall, and who wouldn’t also break into yours?
And if they wanted to break into your place specifically, that’d be the easier way to do it.
Or if Owen just plain forgets to lock his door sometime, it’ll put your place at risk, too. ”
Tonight was such a relaxing night! What is he thinking, going and getting me all scared about danger possibilities like this? It took me so long to get unfreaked out about it when the wall first came down.
“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” Reese says. “Our neighbor has quite the crush on Charlie, so if someone broke into his side, he’d stop them from coming to ours.”
“But would he be able to?” Miles asks. “The guy hasn’t been in a fight in his life.”
I don’t want Reese to question how Miles could possibly know that. So I ask about the other part that caught my attention. “You think he has quite the crush on me?” It feels stupid to say out loud, like we’re pre-teens or something, but hearing her say it still gives me happy flutters.
“No,” Reese says, deadpan. “Guys always leave fun and thoughtful gifts for a woman they don’t have a crush on.” Then she turns to Miles. “You know, Cipher Springs isn’t exactly known for its high number of break-ins.”
“There are always exceptions to the rules.” Then, to me, Miles adds, “Plus, your chances are higher, considering your job.”
Reese gives him a look like he’s being ridiculous.
“What?” Miles says. “Sometimes clients can get disgruntled.”
“Because her clients might go, ‘My computer crashed and I hadn’t saved my work, so I’m going to break into the IT person’s home.’”
Miles is hiding a smile, knowing that Reese has no idea what kinds of “clients” he’s actually referring to. But to keep the focus off that, he says to her, “You never know. It could be someone from your work.”
Reese gives him an amused smile. “A disgruntled middle-school-aged bookworm? Or are you talking about my side hustle and are referring to someone I sold delicious, healthy, taste-bud-pleasing honey to?”
“I just want to make sure that nothing bad happens to my best friend and my sister. What do you say we run a drill?”
Reese and I look at each other, and Reese shrugs. “We’d love to,” I say. I know Reese will be on board because Miles is her best friend, and it’s clear this is important to him. I’m actually grateful for it. Worrying about safety is the kind of thing that keeps me up at night.
And not just worries about someone breaking in, but about other dangers, too. Fire. Earthquakes. Floods. (The big kind, not the kitchen floor kind.) Things that require evacuation from your home quickly. Things that impact an entire area and can make you get separated from your family.
I wish Reese was willing to do roommate drills with me. Like what to do in a fire. But if my brother and her best friend, a guy who can charm the socks off anyone, can barely talk her into doing some kind of drill, it’s not likely that I ever can.
Owen’s truck is in the driveway, and I look at my watch as Miles pulls up in front of our townhome. “Oh, but it’s late. Owen likely went to bed an hour ago.”
“You know what time he goes to bed?”
“We know everything,” Reese says. “What time he wakes up, how long he takes in the shower, that he paces and sighs about every 7.8 seconds when he’s thinking through a problem, all of it. We know way more than we should know. That wall is thin .”
I try to quell the panic that the reminder gives me about how much Owen has inadvertently learned about me. I have bigger things to panic about right now, like someone breaking in. Or earthquakes, fires, or floods.
“Just humor me, okay? I can be quiet.” I nod, so Miles adds, “You two just go in. Do whatever you’d normally do.
Leave the door unlocked or don’t—I can always pick the lock.
I’ll wait an undetermined amount of time before sneaking in.
I’ll be so quiet you won’t hear me coming.
I want to see how long it takes you to notice me and how you fend me off. Give me your best.”
I take off my seatbelt. “We can do that.”
I grew up learning self-defense moves, but Reese didn’t.
Miles has spent enough time teaching her, though, that she can get herself out of a pickle.
He turns to look at her. “Remember—palm strikes to the nose or chin with the heel of your hand are very effective. I can counter it well enough that you don’t have to worry about hurting me.
Since I’m not wearing any protective gear, I’d appreciate it if you stay away from defending with a knee to the groin, though.
Elbow strike to the jaw or ribs, or a foot stomp or shin scrape with your heel are good options. ”
Reese turns to me. “Your brother loves us so much that he’s willing to sacrifice that pretty face for us.”
“Now that’s some confidence thinking that you might be able to actually hurt this pretty face.”
We both laugh and tell him goodbye—for now—and head into our place.
There haven’t been any workers inside today, so I don’t feel compelled to go check for intruders.
Although now that Miles has gotten me thinking about intruders coming through our plastic wall, I still check under my bed when we both go upstairs to change into pajamas.
When Reese comes out of her room, she says, “So, he’s going to expect palm strikes, elbow strikes, and foot stomps. I say we give him something he isn’t expecting. Something no one trained would actually do.”
“Ooh. I like the way you’re thinking,” I say. “What about if we hide somewhere close to the front door, like maybe in the laundry room. He won’t be expecting us there. Then, when he passes by, we jump onto him like spider monkeys and just hang on tight.”
“Oh, fun!” Reese says. “I’m digging this plan.”
I am, too. It’s less stressful. As grateful as I am for the drill, just knowing that Miles is going to be coming to fake break in spikes my adrenaline.
My brother, Ledger, is an adrenaline junkie. If you put him on one end of the spectrum, I’m on the complete opposite end. All my brothers are on Ledger’s side of that spectrum, just not quite as extreme. If Ledger is 100 and I’m 1, Jace and Miles are probably 95.
When I’m leading Jace through a mission that is adrenaline-filled, and I’m guiding him from a safe room behind my computer, everything is fine.
But if someone actually broke into my townhome (which, honestly, isn’t going to happen in Cipher Springs), I’d be very afraid. And I don’t like feeling afraid .
I don’t like watching scary movies. I don’t like walking down dark alleys.
I don’t like vacuuming out my car (because when I’m holding something so noisy, my head deep in my car, unable to see anyone coming up behind me, I’m always convinced I’m seconds away from being ax-murdered).
I don’t like roller coasters. I don’t like haunted houses.
Staying away from manufactured horror is what makes me able to be in the dark, because then I don’t have to worry about all the fears they brought up. I only have to worry about the fears coming from my own head. And I’ve got enough of those on my own! I’m not looking to overpopulate the place.
When we get downstairs, I glance at the plastic sheeting.
Yeah, Owen’s side is very dark. He has definitely gone to bed.
I dim our lights so Miles won’t be able to see us as well when he breaks in.
Then Reese slips into the laundry room, and I go just inside the bathroom door, hiding in the shadows, and we wait.
It’s a full fifteen minutes before we hear the faint sound of Miles picking the lock on our front door. He wanted to make sure we had plenty of time to get distracted and let our guard down. I am holding my breath as he opens the door and then silently sneaks down our hallway toward our kitchen.
We wait for him to pass by us, then Reese races out and leaps onto Miles’s right side. He spins, and the second his left side is aimed in my direction, I also leap onto him. We both have our arms locked around his neck to hold on, our legs pinning his arms to his side.
Miles grunts as he moves down the hall, trying to brush us off against the wall as he goes. But he’s not trying as hard as he would if we were actual attackers, so we hold on just fine. “This is not a palm strike to the nose,” he murmurs.
“Exactly,” Reese says.
I am grinning as our weight throws him a bit off balance, and he bumps into our only remaining counter.
This isn’t the easiest position to remain in, though, especially with mine and Reese’s legs trying to occupy some of the same space.
But my focus is 100% on keeping his arms pinned down.
If he can get them loose, he’ll easily pull us off.
The sound of a guttural and very loud roar makes us all freeze and turn in the direction of the sound. Owen has come through the floppy doors that separate our townhomes, a cordless drill in his hands, raised high and threateningly as he races toward us, shouting, “Get away from them!”
“Wait! Stop!” I yell as I release my grip on Miles and drop to the floor, my hands outstretched.
Reese drops also, and I can see that she and Miles have their hands out as stop signs, too, as Owen comes to a stop just three feet in front of us.
The cordless drill in his hand is still raised in the air.
“This is just my brother, Miles. I’m sorry—I thought we were being quiet. This is just a drill.”
“A drill?” Owen says, as he looks up at the drill in his hand, sleep obviously making him not think clearly.
“He was just testing us to see what we’d do if anyone ever broke in. You know, for safety,” I finish, faltering at how it sounds.
Owen lowers the drill and runs a hand through his hair. “No one is in danger?”
I shake my head. “We’re all fine. But oh my gosh, you waking up and barging in here to save us is so sweet!” And endearing. And disarming. And a little too intimate. And I love everything about it.
“How did you even manage to wake up?” Reese asks. “I swear we didn’t make enough sound.”
Owen shrugs. “I don’t know. I think my body just knew something was off.”
My brother reaches out and claps Owen on the shoulder. “You’re made of good stuff, Owen. Untrained, your body couldn’t have woken you up like that if you weren’t.”
“Thanks,” Owen mumbles.
“I can’t say your weapon of choice was the most effective,” Miles says with a friendly grin, nodding at the drill.
“But, in the heat of the moment, you grabbed something and came running. That counts for a lot. If you want, I could give you a few tips sometime. Like making sure the battery pack is in it so it has a little heft to it.”
Owen is still looking like he’s in a daze, and he just nods.
I guide Owen close to our wall and away from Miles and Reese. “Sorry about waking you up in a panic. If we do a drill in the future, I’ll make sure it’s during waking hours.”
Owen nods. “I’d appreciate that. I, uh, think I’ll go back to bed now.” He turns to leave.
“Wait. Owen?” When he looks back at me, I say, “It was really amazing of you to run in here to save us. Thank you.” Because it really is the sweetest thing ever.
My brothers will come running to save anyone, but they’ve been trained for it.
Owen knows nothing, not even what random objects can be used as a weapon, apparently.
Yet he still came running. “You didn’t wait to be ready. You just acted. That’s courage.”
I see a hint of a smile before Owen goes back to his side of the wall, taping the door closed behind him. Me? My smile is wide as I sigh against one of the wall studs.