Beware of Boys (17 page)

He ran in front of her and stopped. His eyes shot daggers into hers. “I'm not afraid of nothing, Charly. And I don't run. I avoid trouble. It's not the same thing. And you want to know how much of a fighter I am? Let me tell you, it was me who fought—fought hard—for you to work on the project. No one else wanted a girl. It was supposed to be an all-guy project, meaning bringing on your boyfriend, Liam, not you—and then you had the nerve to turn on me. Me!” he said, pounding his chest. “Me, who technically hired you, when I was trying to save you in the store! And to make it worse, even after you saw it was me, you still didn't apologize, and you knew I had contracted with the show to get you on board. You knew at least a week before the incident.”

Charly's jaw dropped, and she had no words. What could she possibly say? “Sorry” wasn't enough. “I didn't know” wasn't possible. Like a coward, she shrugged. “Thank you . . . ?” It was a try, she told herself. After all, she hadn't thanked M
kel for helping her in the store or for waiting around while everyone else rushed off to the emergency.

“Thank me? You want to thank me, Charly? Get us out of here!” M
kel yelled, then walked off, obviously forgetting his control mantra. He turned slightly. “And oh, yeah. Besides doing something with that dreadful bag that keeps rattling, you may want to do something about your clothes. I can see your breasts and panties and legs through your dress.”

Charly looked down, and sure enough, M
kel was right. She looked like she'd been in a wet T-shirt contest; her thin yellow summer dress didn't hide anything. With the drenched fabric, she looked completely naked from the ankles up. She put her head in her hands, hiding the embarrassment.

“Here,” M
kel said, startling her. She looked up, and there he was back in front of her, shirtless. He held out the shirt he had worn. “You can wear this. It's like three times your size, so it should cover all your goodies. Let's go find a way out of here, or at least walk until I can pick up a signal and dial 911 or something.”

Charly nodded, slipping into his shirt and a new outlook on M
kel. With just one outburst and a single article of clothing, M
kel had changed her mind about him. He was a gentleman and very mature. He'd fought for her to work on their project, and had protected her in the store. She blinked quickly, and not because of the pelting raindrops. She rapidly batted her eyelids in disbelief at what she was seeing and feeling. M
kel walked in front of her, shirtless and fabulous.
Oh, God. Did I just fall for my nemesis?
“There! Over there!” Charly shouted, a lot more loudly than she'd planned.

M
kel looked to the right. “Okay. A water tower. Now what?” He held up his phone, which chimed. His eyes stretched as he looked at the screen. “We need to hurry up, Charly. Lex texted me. They're at the hospital.” He looked at her. “So the water tower,” he repeated. “Now what?”

Charly's anxiety rose. It would be up to her to get them to Bobsy. She pressed her lips together in thought. “Look out for a skyscraper.”

M
kel's laugh wasn't joyful; it was one of disbelief, laced with panic. “The strip is full of those. They're called casinos.”

Charly shook her head. “No. Never mind, just follow me.” She looked around, then saw her landmark. Just up ahead, there was a skyscraper that appeared to be next to the water tower. Charly smiled. Finally, she knew where she was. “I saw those when I rode through here earlier with Whip. They were on the right, so as long as we walk ahead, keeping them on our left, we should make it to the street.”

T
hey hopped out of the taxi they'd managed to secure after making their way to civilization and walked into the hospital looking like two cave dwellers. His jeans were dirty and torn, revealing his boxer shorts, which she hadn't noticed before, and he was still shirtless. On his feet was a pair of once-white sneakers that were now a soggy gray, and audibly sloshed with each step. Charly still had the pink shirt wrapped around her head, and not neatly, she noticed, seeing her reflection in the glass. It was tilted to the side in a haphazard mess, and clashed with M
kel's T-shirt that hung on her like a blood-red mini dress. “Awful,” she said, looking at his shirt that was atop her sand-covered yellow halter dress, which now bordered on a nude-ish tan due to her complexion showing through. She looked at her feet, and didn't even want to think about the brown sneakers she wore.

“Stairs,” he ordered, walking quickly. “This way.”

Charly followed suit, trying to keep the shopping bag still and noting that M
kel knew the way without direction from a hospital employee. He'd been through this before, she realized, and she wondered how many times.
How long has Bobsy been sick?
She raced to keep up with him as he pushed through one door, then quickly walked to another, then through a corridor, and finally stopped in front of a door that read E
XIT
. The bag swooshed again, making crumpling noises this time. “Sorry,” she apologized for the noise. He pushed it open, then held it for Charly, who rushed through it, then stopped and looked at him. “But why is Bobsy here? Shouldn't she be with you or your mom in Cali or wherever?”

M
kel shook his head. “Bobsy's doctor moved here. He's the best, and I'm too busy recording and touring, and my mom country hops because she thinks there's some natural cure somewhere else. America isn't big on natural cures, if you haven't noticed. And Lex's pops . . . well, he's like our extended/adopted family, and he's into all natural too, and he insisted Bobsy stay at the camp, where she can have the twenty-four-hour supervision we can't give.” He looked at the bag. “You still didn't say why you're carrying that bag around.” He pointed at the steps. “Four flights, and then a bridge,” he said, then raced around her and bounded up the stairs with Charly in tow, as she followed, explaining why she was carrying a plastic bag.

They were entering the hospital wing before she knew it. An antiseptic smell assaulted her nostrils and bright fluorescent lights blinded her. She strode quickly behind M
kel, following him through another exit and across a long corridor, which ended in another door. They pushed through it, and, for a second, she stopped. Everything around her had changed. There was no sickly smell permeating the air, no tile floors, no hospital feeling. It was if they'd entered some swanky hotel. “Where are we?”

M
kel looked behind him. “Private quarters.”

Charly paused. For Bobsy to be here, she had to be very sick. Like gravely ill. “Oh, no . . .”

M
kel shook his head. “Not that bad. It's just a perk that, fortunately, money can buy.” He kept walking, nodding at some employees. Then he slowed, and Charly's eyes widened as they approached a group of guys.

“Everybody's here,” she said, then wanted to kick herself for stating the obvious. Lex, Faizon, and Whip stood against one wall, and Eden paced in front of them. Her arms were crossed, and her face seemed to have aged from worry. Charly took it all in, but was stumped by the other visitor, whom she hadn't expected to see. “Coop? Right? What's he doing here?” she asked.

M
kel glanced over his shoulder, and kept walking. “Cooper,” he said with disgust. “That effin' Lex and Faizon,” he mumbled. “He would show now . . . as if he's cared.” He mumbled something unintelligible under his breath again, but Charly could make out bits and pieces of what sounded like “Cooper is the oldest.”

Charly's jaw hit the floor again. She was certain she'd misheard M
kel. “Did you just say he's the oldest? The oldest as in how? Like your big brother? I thought you said it's just you, your mom, and Bobsy.”

M
kel stopped and turned. His palms were on his face again, a sign she'd recognized earlier as his way of showing stress. She saw him move his lips, mouthing,
Control . . . control
.

“I did say that. It is—has been only me, my mother, and Bobsy, until recently. Technically, Cooper is the first child my mother gave birth to, but that doesn't make him me or Bobsy's big anything. He's never been big on anything except throwing his genius away and getting into trouble and spending my mother's savings on criminal lawyers.”

Charly's eyes widened when she looked toward Bobsy's room. Her head tilted, and she tried to speak but couldn't. M
kel turned to see what had her attention.