Broken Wings (A Romantic Suspense) (39 page)

“This is a lovely campus,” Karen said. “Nice town, too. I think you’ll have a wonderful time here, Eve.”

I was growing closer to my stepmother than I anticipated. She spent most of her day
doing things
,
in a way I never really experienced before. She had a dozen hobbies, all sorts of interests, and she read and had a sharp mind. I understood why Victor’s father married her.

I thought I was starting to understand why my father married her, too. It unnerved me. He’d bought a whole new wardrobe, new watches, the new car. I wasn’t stupid. I knew he was spending her money. I didn’t have an idea about their finances. My understanding was that Victor was the heir to the family fortune, but I didn’t ask about it. I wasn’t interested. I just wanted out.

My key was in a small envelope in a box with my name on it. The Resident Director gave me papers to sign. I promised to attend a Freshman Mixer, whatever that would turn out to be.

The room was small, barely eight feet wide, but almost fifteen feet long. A bunk bed sat in the corner, opposite from that two desks sitting next to each other, and two armoires- there was no closet built into the wall. We all carried my things in. It took all of ten minutes.

Father put his hand on my shoulder and I flinched.

“Alright, Eve. We’re going to go now, so you can get settled in.”

Karen looked at me.

“Can I have a minute alone with her?”

Father nodded, and stepped outside. I heard his shoes on the hallway floor.

Karen threw her arms around me.

“You call me if you need anything, or you just want to talk. Alright, hon?”

“Yes, Karen,” I said.

My chest tightened and my eyes burned. I was supposed to be happy? Why was I starting to cry?

“This is going to be a big shock for you. I mean it. Call me for help if you need it,” she reached into her purse and handed me a slip of paper. “Or call Victor. He’s closer.”

I took the paper.

“He likes you.”

My eyes snapped up to meet hers.

“My son has always been difficult,” she sighed, lowering her voice. “He has quite a reputation, and with good reason. When he grew older, without his father around, I had a lot of trouble controlling him. There were fights. There were a lot of girls. I never saw him look at any of them
 
the way he looks at you.”

“We can’t, he’s…”

“He’s my son. You’re not my daughter.”

I wilted, looking at the floor.

She rested her hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “I didn’t mean it that way. I wish you were.”

Tell her
, I screamed at myself.
He’s a monster, you married a monster. He wants something from you, or else he’d never touch you. He hits me, he hurt me.
Say something!

I didn’t. She hugged me again and I hugged her back, no matter how awkward I felt. I wondered what it would be like to have my own mother here, holding me. Then I walked out of the building with her, and waved goodbye as they drove off.

When I got back to the room there was a stranger in it. She startled me.

For a brief moment, I thought she was a man. It was the height. She was six feet tall, even in flat tennis shoes, and simply towered over me, but there was nothing else manly about her. Her clothes were as baggy and unflattering as mine, and she didn’t appear to be wearing any makeup, but she was pretty anyway, in a natural way. The most striking thing about her was her hair, wound in a long braid that hung almost to her waist, a rich auburn that shone like beaten copper when the sun hit it. She looked as started as I was, and for a moment she just stood there and stared at me. Then she thrust out her hand and took it.

“Hi. I’m Jennifer.”

We’d emailed, but there wasn’t much to say. She moved gracefully around the room, left and came back with a suitcase.

“Don’t you have anyone to help you?”

She shook her head.

“I will,” I said.

She had a car, a battered little Toyota. It was stuffed with suitcases and boxes and bags, like she’d packed all her worldly goods into the back and the seats. It took us an hour to unload it all. I started moving my things to the top bunk when we finished, and she stopped me.

“You got here first.”

“That’s not really fair.”

She shrugged. “Maybe we could flip for it?”

“Well, you’re bigger, you should be on the bottom.”

She blinked a few times. Her lip trembled.

“I don’t mean bigger like fat,” I said, quickly. “You’re taller than me, that’s all.”

This was getting off to a first class start.

“I’ll take the top,” she insisted.

After she made up her bed, I was shocked by how easily she got up there, with a fluid grace I wasn’t expecting from someone of her height.

“Are you going to that mixer thing?” she asked, leaning over the side.

I was still making up my bed. I had to put hospital corners on my sheets. “Of course. I signed a paper promising I would.”

“I don’t think they really care,” she said.

“Are you going?”

“I don’t want to,” she shrugged, and leaned back onto her bed. “I hate parties.”

“I’ve never been to a party.”

She let out a long sigh. “Consider yourself fortunate,” she said.

That was a rather odd thing to say, but I didn’t want to pry.

I really, truly was not planning to go, but I signed a form. They would know if I didn’t. It was scheduled for six o’clock, in daylight, so there were no worries there. Around five thirty I got up from reading on my bed.

“I’m going to go to the thing,” I said.

“It’s across the street. You’ll be very early.”

I shrugged. “On time is late.”

She rolled over and looked at me. She had gray eyes too, I noticed.

“You haven’t
ever
been to a party, have you?”

I shook my head. “You weren’t allowed to go?”

“Never invited.”

“Oh.”

“There was no one
to
invite me. I was home schooled. Tutors.”

I shifted uncomfortably on my feet and rubbed my arms. Jennifer sat up, and slid to the floor with the same languid grace with which she’d climbed up. She spun her desk chair around and sat on it facing backwards, leaning on the back.

“We’re supposed to talk,” she said.
 

I sat down on the bed.

“What should we talk about?”

“Thank you for helping me carry my things. I appreciate it.”

“You have a lot of stuff.”

She shrugged. “It’s everything I own. I’m not going back. I already signed the papers to stay here over the winter break. I’m going to be in the room a lot. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Okay.”

“Um,” she said, her face turning red. “I don’t like undressing around people. Have you been to the showers?”

“Yes, it’s not like a movie. There’s stalls with curtains.”

She shuddered. “I’ll make do. I might ask you to step out of the room now and then.”

“I can do that.” I shrugged.

“I’ll be in here a lot. I don’t go out much. I don’t have a boyfriend or anything.”

“Neither do I.”

“Oh.” She sounded surprised.

“Um,” I said, searching for something else to talk about. I would be leaving soon if I wanted to be on time. “What are you majoring?”

“English. I want to teach. You?”

“Business,” I sighed.

“You don’t sound excited about it.”

“I’m not. I should be going now. Are you coming?”

“No,” she said, firmly. “I don’t do parties. Oh, that’s the other thing. No parties in our room, please. No drinking.”

“I’m not old enough to drink, and I don’t know anybody.”

She nodded, and seemed reassured. “Thank you.

True to her word, Jennifer climbed up on her bunk and remained in the room. Walking through that door was like passing through a brick wall. I had to force myself to take every step. I expected there to be a stream of students on the sidewalk.

There
 
were a few, but no one seemed to be in any hurry to get to “the mixer”. There was some sort of a stage set up on the lawn in front of the college center and people appeared to be setting up a sound system. When they tested it with a burst of music, the speakers whined and popped. I felt a vibration through my feet. It turned into a sound, a throaty basso rumble that echoed off the brick buildings. As I turned to see where it was coming from, I let out a slow breath. Victor’s Pontiac came rumbling down the street. He pulled up behind me and motioned me over.

Against my better judgement, I walked over to the car. I looked around, hoping no one would see me talking to him.

“Hey” he almost shouted, his voice raised over the exhaust. “Need a ride?”

“I have to go to the freshman mixer.”

He laughed. “Are you serious? No, you don’t. Hop in. You eat dinner yet?”

“No, I thought there would be food at the mixer.”

“There’s food at McDonalds. Come on.”

I looked back over to the lawn and chewed my lip.

“You’re thinking about it. That means I’ve already won. I promise no one will even know if you’re there or not.”

“I can’t, Victor. I’m
 
not supposed to even talk to you.”

He leaned out the window a little. “Come on.”

“Are you going to speed?”

“No way. I promise to obey all traffic controls and speed limits.” He raised his hand in an I-swear gesture.

I took a deep breath, then walked around and got in the car. True to his word, Victor rumbled gradually down the block, and took the turn slowly.

It was a bit quieter inside the car.

“What are you even doing here?”

“What? Oh, right, I’m a student here.”

“
You?”

“I transferred.”

“What?”

He fished in his pocket and pulled out a student identification card just like mine, with his smiling face on it. I looked over at him and tugged on my seat belt. I noticed he wasn’t bothering to wear his.

“You should eat. You eat anything today?”

I shook my head.

“Okay, burger time, then.”

I tugged at my jeans, trying to gather the material in my hands. I ended up pitching forward with my arms folded over my chest.

He didn’t ask me any questions. I watched out the window as he drove. At the restaurant, Victor opened my door for me and took my hand to pull me to my feet. He made a show of it, flexing his muscles. I really didn’t need his help. He walked close beside me, opened the doors for me. I walked up to the counter with him.

I had no idea what to get. I’d never eaten at one of these before.

“Um,” I said. “I don’t know what to…”

Victor stepped up to the counter. “Two double quarter pounders with cheese, a quarter pounder with cheese, a large french fries, a strawberry milkshake,” he glanced at me, “and two large sodas.”

He paid, too, and carried the tray. I sat down at the table he chose and gingerly unwrapped my cheeseburger, feeling the grease on my fingers. I lifted the bun-lid and frowned at the gunk on top, took a napkin and swept it off.

“I didn’t know you like them plain. Sorry.”

“I’ve never had one.” I pointed at the pile of lettuce and tomato. “I just don’t want that.”

“Works for me,” he said, and did the same thing to his. He ate one of his sandwiches so fast it was almost unnerving to watch. I’d filled my cup with orange soda. I like oranges. It was so
sweet
.

He put the milk shake up in front of me. “This is for you.”

“It is?”

He gave me a look.

I shrugged and took a pull on the straw. It was too sweet, too.

The burger was better than I thought it would be. I like having a little of the… stuff on it. The milk shake wasn’t bad, either.

“You’ve seriously never eaten here before?”

“I’ve never had occasion to.”

“I mean at any of the chain stores.”

“Victor,” I said.

“Vic,” he corrected.

“Vic. What do you want from me?”

He gave me an enigmatic smile and a shrug. “You really don’t know, do you?”

Vic reached over and set his hand on mine.

I tensed.

“Oh.
Oh.
”

“You’re not good with signals, are you?”

I shook my head.

He sighed.

My face reddened. I could feel it. He smiled, not so much for me as at me, his eyes darting all over my face and neck. I pulled my hand back and folded both together in my lap.

“I can’t. I’m your sister.”

He snorted. “Yeah, for like a month and a half.”

“I already heard people commenting about us dancing at the wedding. Then there was the garter thing.”

He leaned on his hand. “Fuck them.”

I flinched.

“Eve, do you like me? I think you like me. I like you.”

“I think I do. I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t know what to do,” my voice cracked. “I don’t know how to talk to anybody or what to do
 
or what to say or…” I trailed off. “I can’t. I can’t do it. If Father finds out…”

“If he puts his hands on you I’ll break his legs.”

I jerked back and looked at him. “He’s my father.”

“Yeah. He is. My father never hit me. He never hit my mom either. He could have, if he wanted. He was a big guy. He taught me a lot.”

“My father taught me a lot,” I said.

“I can see that. My father taught me a man must have a code.”

“A code?”

“Yeah.”

I swallowed, took a big
 
gulp of milkshake and dabbed
 
at my lips with a napkin.

“I just want you to give me a chance. I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m not going to lock you in a tower and ‘ravish’ you like in one of those books you read.”

My mouth fell open.

“My mom told me.”

Something about that was funny enough for me to start laughing.

“People have told me things about you.”

“Such as?”

I started wringing my fingers.

“You sleep with lots of girls. You don’t really care about me, I’d just be another…” what was it? “Notch on your bedpost.”

“That’s a fun trick.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You talk, and your father’s voice comes out.”