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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

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Viola swept through the front doors and I jumped. And then I jumped again when Josh jumped beside me.

“Holy, who is that?” Josh asked, frowning.

Viola strode forcefully towards the front desk and harped out, “I want to speak to Bailor. Now.”

The same graying hair Asian lady scurried away automatically. She didn’t frown. She didn’t pause. She just moved and it wasn’t long until my grandmother grew impatient and turned to survey the waiting room. Her eyes scanned over me, back tracked, and zeroed in as the frown turned into a scowl.

Josh gulped, loudly.

And my stomach fell to the bottom of my feet. My Grandmum was dressed in a grey smock, red khaki pants, and yellow clogs on her feet. Her hair stuck up haphazardly with a few remaining curlers hanging on by a strand. I caught a smattering of blush on her cheeks and saw she’d hurriedly applied some red lipstick.

She was my grandma and everything, but I understood Josh’s fear.

“Rayna Cassidy Janke. Do you have any idea what time it is?” She didn’t wait for a response. “And you call me, wake me up, and tell me that you don’t know what Brady’s bail is. What am I supposed to think? What am I supposed to think when my own granddaughter calls me and tells me that she’s at the police station.”

I gulped this time, just as loudly.

Viola crossed the room, shoulders enraged, arms stiff, and bent forward until her nose was an inch from mine. And then she smiled.

I blinked.

And her smile grew wider as she whispered, “And I love it! I was hoping that boy would inspire some nights like these for you. You’re too good, too uptight at times.”

“Wha—huh?” Josh gaped.

Viola glanced over, sharp, and baked out, “Who are you?”

Quickly, I pushed him away, and stammered, “He—he—he’s no one. He’s leaving. He’s going to sit over there.” And I pointed across the waiting room.

Reluctantly, confused, Josh stood up and sat down, frowning fiercely.

Grandmum took his seat and whispered, a hand over her mouth, “I know I should be the uppity grandmother, but I just can’t. You’ve never been involved and you’re involved. I am basking in this moment because I know you’ll punish yourself ten times over from what a normal guardian would discipline a wayward child gone astray. And that’s why,” she indulged a sweet smile and patted my head, “I can’t do anything except hug you.”

I stiffened as her arms wrapped tightly around me.

“You are aware that you are completely abnormal,” I croaked, pressed against her smock.

Viola laughed, heartily, and then sighed, replete, “God, child. I have been waiting for your rebellious streak to unearth itself. And I’ve been worried that even Brady couldn’t get some of that naughtiness out.”

“Grandma!” I hissed, horrified, embarrassed.

She shook her head, causing her curlers to whip back and forth, “Rayna, it’s not healthy to be as straight laced as you are. This is a good thing. Now, if you get pregnant, that’d be bad. Thankfully, I know you’re too good to be that stupid. And thank god that I scare the crap out of that boy of yours. Now, talking of Brady—let me at Bailor. Where is he?” And she whipped around, fixed the clerk who’d returned with a determined scowl, and stalked back across the lounge.

Pregnant. That was the only word I’d heard. I gulped. There was no way I was pregnant…

“That’s your grandma?” Josh slipped back into his seat.

I couldn’t answer. I just shook my head, lost in my own hazy hell. I could not be pregnant. No way.

“She’s scary. And I really think you just saved my life.” Josh laughed, shaking his head, ruefully. “Now I get why Uncle Frank always growls when Kid talks about you. I wouldn’t want to go up against that either.”

I perked up. “Kid talks about me?”

“Constantly.” Josh shook his head, confounded. “But I think he does it because it drives Uncle Frank crazy. Kid gets a kick out of that. Oh god—I shouldn’t have told you that.”

I shrugged, although I wasn’t sure how I felt about the information, “I get it. Brady likes to drive my grandma crazy at times.”

Josh grunted, annoyed.

Suddenly, a back door opened with a harsh bang. Deputy Dog led the way with a stoic Frank Stephens, followed by a bloodied and bruised Kid. The chocolate eyes guarded against whatever emotion he was feeling, but his jaw was clamped tight. His shoulders were rigid underneath his shirt that a long rip down the front. I caught a swooning look in the graying hair Asian lady clerk, but she snapped her eyes to mine and I almost heard the ‘harrumph’ in her mind before she turned back to her desk.

“Dude,” Josh greeted joyfully as he stood beside me.

Kid grinned and bypassed his dad to thump his cousin on the shoulder. When Josh returned the favor, Kid suppressed a grimace, but Josh imperviously wrapped an arm around Kid’s shoulder to give him a one armed man-hug.

“Are you pressing charges?” Josh questioned just as Kid’s eyes met mine. I jerked in shock at the look of apology and regret. I frowned as I wondered what Kid would be apologetic for…and towards me? And then I remembered Brady. He was pressing charges.

“I understand, Mr. Stephens. I can promise that this will be the last altercation between the two boys. The restraining order will come into effect at midnight and this should be the last you see of Mr. Remington,” Deputy Dog rasped out in a professional manner. He stood to his fullest height and held out a firm hand to Frank, who ignored the extended peace offering and instead swept cold eyes towards his son. He narrowed them for a brief second and an audible look was passed from father to son, but it was gone the next instant as Frank Stephens scanned his nephew and landed on me.

I felt chills down my back at the sudden temperature loss in the room.

I’d always known about Frank Stephens, how he’d terrorized half the town into selling their businesses. I’d heard my grandmum rant and rave about the injustice of our system when he’d raised the prices dramatically in every store and gas station that he owned. He would’ve been banned from having a monopoly over the town if it weren’t for a small family-owned gas station that sold enough products to be considered a food market. None of the stories mattered because I realized that I’d never actually seen the infamous Frank Stephens in person and now that I had, I wished I’d never known who he was.

He stood tall with a muscular build underneath a three-piece suit. With sandy brown hair that looked swept carelessly to the side and piercing blue eyes, I could see why the Senior Kidrick was rumored to go from affair to affair. He exuded a cold disdain that was mixed with strong confidence. And none of that mattered to me, but I sucked in my breath at the sight of pure hatred in his eyes as he stared at me.

“Dad,” Kid growled in warning.

Deputy Dog cleared his throat nervously.

I couldn’t look away from Mr. Stephens. I wanted to, desperately, but I was captivated.

“Let’s go, dad.” Kid moved back across the room and literally stood in the line of sight between his father and me.

I jerked at the sudden loss of…whatever it was. When my hand trembled slightly, I flushed and tucked it in my back pocket. As I cursed under my breath, a door to the left suddenly opened and everyone turned to hear the sound of locks turning in a backroom. A police officer led the way, but I tensed as I heard the familiar sway of Brady’s swagger. Instantly, the police officer pointed Brady towards another desk in the far corner. As Brady bent over the counter and was given a pen to sign some papers, I looked back and noticed that Kid had grasped his father’s arm. He pulled him towards the door, but Frank Stephens had his frozen gaze riveted on Brady’s back. He didn’t budge.

“That should be it, Brady,” the police officer murmured, amused. He patted Brady’s shoulder approvingly. “Dougie’s pretty adamant, man. You gotta stay away from that other kid or your butt’s going to be in a different jail for a lot longer than you’ve spent here. Trust me. Dougie’s serious on this. You can’t bust anymore skulls.”

Brady laughed, huskily, and turned around. The amusement quickly vanished as he took in the group behind him. He straightened abruptly and an ominous feeling swept through the room. Sucking in my breath, I quickly glanced to Frank Stephens and saw a flash of remorse in his eyes before a wall slammed into place and I saw nothing after that. Puzzled, I looked back and found my eyes captured and held by Brady’s. He was asking if I was okay and I nodded with a small smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth. I couldn’t say anything else for fear of what it may have erupted in the room.

“We should go, dad.” Kid tried to pull his father towards the door, but Frank Stephens didn’t move. He was firmly rooted, his eyes glued on Brady.

Confused, Brady took a step closer, but was halted as the police officer slapped a hand on his arm. “They need to clear the room.”

Brady frowned, but said nothing.

Josh cleared his throat and remarked, sarcastically, “Well…this is awkward. If no one’s going to start throwing punches, we should go, Uncle Frank.”

And then we heard Viola in a backroom, quickly approaching, “Bailor, if you didn’t know how my ass looks in a grass skirt, we’d have a throw fisticuffs here and now. You let that boy out or I’m going to Veronica about your indiscretion at the CornFestival of 1986. And don’t think I don’t remember what I saw because I know even if things were a little fuzzy at the time.”

“Jeez, Vi. I was just joshing you. The boy’s been released already. No charges were filed in the first place.”

My grandmum stopped just in the doorway as she heard Judge Bailor’s sheepish comment, but raised shocked eyes at the group assembled. Unlike Brady, she didn’t have a police officer to halt her progression and she surged forward as her eyes met mine and took in my frozen fearful state.

Her finger drawn, a pinched nerve on her forehead, and a history of rage in her shoulders, my grandmum cried out, harshly, “What did you say to her, Frank? I won’t have you berating my granddaughter. You get away from you, you and your son. I don’t want either of you in her life!”

Brady surged forward against the officer’s arm, but Kid stepped in front of his father, stopping Viola in her tracks. “Stop it. He hasn’t said a word and he’s not pressing charges against Brady. Just…chill, old lady. Okay?”

Brady cracked a grin and shook his head.

Deputy Dog fought back a snort of laughter. And Viola reared her head back, thought for a moment, and then crossed the room to stand toe to toe with Kidrick. She stood an inch taller and ferocious despite the fifty year age difference, but her words sent a mass of confusion and shivers down my back as she warned, silkily, “You might’ve sent my daughter away eighteen years ago, but you will not speak one word to my granddaughter or I will fulfill my promise, Frank.”

Kid narrowed his eyes, confused for a split second before he realized she wasn’t talking to him, nor even looking at him. He slowly turned, noticed the locked gazes between his father and Viola and tentatively stepped out of the way. It was at that moment that I felt a hand tenderly take hold of my elbow. Jumping, I whirled and saw Brady pensively staring between grandmum and the elder Kidrick. Disoriented at the sudden cautiousness in Brady, I touched his chest in wonderment. I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew Brady was fearful for me.

“Let’s go,” Brady murmured softly in my ear and urged me from the group. No one noticed our departure except for Deputy Dog, who looked relieved. I glanced back a last time before the door shut behind us and my last view was the silent standoff. As the door clicked shut, blocking my vision, I whirled and exclaimed, breathless, “What was that all about in there?”

The usual cockiness was depleted as Brady ran a tired hand through his flat Mohawk hair. He sighed and shook his head, rounding the front of the car, “I don’t know, not really.”

I narrowed my eyes at his choice of words. As I got inside the car, I insisted, “What do you mean that you don’t really know? You know something, don’t you? Josh told me that your fight with Kid really isn’t about me. What’s it about, Brady? What’s it got to do with my grandmother and my mother?”

Exhausted, resigned, Brady shifted the car in reverse and pulled into traffic. “I don’t really know. The thing with Kid and me is stupid and some of it’s about you, but some of it’s not. I can’t…I can’t tell you. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“Brady.”

“Rayna.”

“Brady, tell me.”

“No, Rayray. Not this time. At least…not yet.”

Hearing the determination in his voice, I leaned back against the seat, annoyed. And then I realized, “Why weren’t charges pressed? That makes no sense. You—what you did to Kid. You were like a gorilla, Brady.”

He snorted, turning into Nellie’s parking lot. “Who’d you get that from? That douche who kissed you?”

My throat went dry. Sometimes his intellect was irritating. “How’d you know that?”

And the cockiness flared back to his face as he flashed a smile, parking the car. “Because no one else would ever call me a gorilla. They know better.”

I followed him out of the car and called out, “You mean they know you think sometimes before you start pounding fists? It sounds like a gorilla to me.”

Brady stopped suddenly on the sidewalk and turned around. I braked just short of slamming into his back, but managed my composure as he studied me intently. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Brady asked tightly, “Are you pissed at me?”

Was I? During the party, the beating up, and then the police station showdown, I hadn’t had time to think about it. Now that I was away, feeling a little safe…yes. I realized that I was pissed. “You’re darn right, I’m mad. I just spent the night at a party where I got drunk, cried, seriously thought we shouldn’t be friends, and then watched you beat Kid up. And that’s not even adding all the stuff at the police station. I’m mad at you! You did this. You…you upheavaled my night. I wanted to stay in. I wanted to be boring. I like being boring, Brady!”

“Okay! Seriously. Stop shouting. Holy cow, Rayray.”

Flushed, I hadn’t realized I’d been shouting, but after I thought about it—I had every right to shout. I was really pissed.

“Sorry.” But I wasn’t. And I lied further, “I just…I feel like I don’t know what’s going on anymore. Nothing feels normal anymore.”

Somber, Brady asked, softly, “You don’t think we should be friends? Is that because I really want to kiss you right now?”