Games of the Heart (62 page)

Instinctively, I threw back the covers and slid out of bed, my heart hammering, whispering, “Someone’s in the house.”

“Stay where you are, Dusty, a unit is en route.”

“I have two kids in this house!” I snapped, rushing toward the doors, Layla at my heels.

“Dusty, stay where you are.”

“They’re sleeping.”

“Dusty –”

“They don’t know anything’s going on,” I hissed, hearing murmurings coming up from downstairs, the living room, right under Mike’s room. Deep voices, male, low. I pressed my lips together.

“Dusty, stay right where you are. The unit will be there in two minutes.”

Oh God. Oh God. It took less than two minutes to walk up the fucking stairs and get to one of the kids!

Holding the phone to my ear, using my leg to keep Layla back, I opened the door and slid out, closing it quickly behind me and closing Layla in. I hustled down the hall, my mind searching what I knew of the upstairs. Except for some pens and pencils in Mike’s office which I might be able to jab in someone’s neck or something, I had no weapon.

Shit. Fuck. Shit!

I ran down the hall and did the only thing I could do. Positioned myself on the other side of the stairs so if they came up they’d have to get through me to get to the doors of the kids’ rooms.

“Dusty, where are you? Are you there?”

“I’m in the hall,” I whispered but clearly the noises I made were heard.

“Dusty!”

I jumped mostly because this was Mike shouting.

“That’s Mike,” I told the operator.

“Does he sound okay?” she asked me.

“Dusty, get down here!”

Yeah, he sounded okay. Pissed but obviously breathing so I took that to be okay.

“Yeah,” I answered then ran down the stairs.

She said more but I wasn’t paying attention. I was rounding the stairs and running down the hall.

The living room was lit with overhead lights and I skidded to a halt when I hit it to see three teenage boys sitting on the couch glaring up at Mike. Mike was wearing his pajama bottoms and a tee standing over them holding the gun loosely in his hand, pointed to the floor. And I noticed instantly the three boys were the three who jumped Fin weeks ago.

Mike’s eyes slice to me. “You on with Emergency?”

I nodded.

“Disconnect. Use my phonebook, call Colt. Tell him I got his vandals in my living room.”

My eyes went to the kids but Mike kept talking and I looked back at him.

“Do that while goin’ back upstairs. My cuffs are on my belt. There’s another pair in my top drawer at the back. Bring both down. Now.”

I nodded and turned quickly, rushing back down the hall.

“Did you hear that?” I asked the operator.

“Yes. Unit is still en route and should be their imminently. I’ll let you go.”

“Right,” I said, running down the upstairs hall and into our room. I did as Mike asked, going quickly, with effort keeping an agitated now whining Layla back and I got a sleepy-alert Colt as I was rushing back down the hall carrying two sets of handcuffs.

I also saw No out of his room and he was staring at me, sleepy-alert too.

I shook my head, whispered, “Stay up here,” then kept talking to Colt as I ran down the stairs. By the time I made it to the living room, Colt told me he’d be here “in ten” and he’d disconnected.

Mike’s eyes came to me and the doorbell rang.

“Me, cuffs then you get the door,” he ordered.

I rushed to him, handed off the cuffs and ran toward the door telling him, “No’s up.”

I was in the hall when I heard Mike shout, “No, down here!”

I opened the door to see a uniformed police officer there. He opened his mouth to speak but I got there before him.

“Mike’s in the living room. I think he needs you.”

He moved immediately and I got out of his way. No nearly bumped into him as he rounded the stairs, his face pale, his eyes on me. The officer moved directly to the living room, his hand and mouth directed to the radio at his shoulder. I moved to No.

“Your Dad caught some kids, vandals. They’re in the living room. Go to him, he wants you.”

No nodded then took off down the hall.

I was closing the door, not looking what I was doing when I met resistance halfway. I turned my eyes to it and saw another officer standing there.

“Doin’ a perimeter search,” he muttered. “Mike okay?”

I nodded, pulling the door back open. “Living room.”

He moved past me and headed swiftly down the hall.

I followed him.

The next five minutes I focused on calming down and staying out of the way. I had to take time out of doing this when Rees hesitantly joined the proceedings. Then she stood close to me, holding my hand and watched like me, No joining us. The boys were now all sitting on the couch, hands cuffed behind their backs. One of the officers had gone out to his car. I kept my eyes on Mike who still was holding his gun loosely, his eyes glued on the boys and I could tell he was beyond pissed. He was livid.

I was debating the merits of approaching Mike and gently taking his weapon from him because Mike’s couch was awesome, a big sectional, slouchy, comfy and bloodstains would probably fuck that up when the officer who did the perimeter search spoke and he did this to the boys on the couch.

“Saw it outside, shit’s fucked up,” he noted, his voice rumbly. He was pissed too. One of his brethren had been targeted and it was clear he didn’t like that much. Then he asked, “What fucked up shit broke in your heads that makes you think that’s okay?”

None of the boys spoke.

Mike did.

“I know you,” he said quietly, the quiet was a not a good quiet and I watched all three boys look to him. They were no longer looking belligerent. They had the attention of an angry Dad policeman holding a gun and now they were belatedly watchful. “I know you threw down with Fin. I know what you said to my girl. I know one of you tried to touch her.”

Oh God.

My hand in Rees’s got tighter.

“Now you show up at my home, her home, my family’s home and do that shit,” Mike went on. “The bullshit you been pullin’ for months is not okay in any way. That shit outside is
seriously
not okay.”

I was wondering what was outside at the same time not wanting to know when Mike kept speaking.

“But I’m forced to do you a favor. See, I’m gonna make it my mission to be sure whatever punishment you get is the worst it can be. But still, I’m gonna have a sit down with Finley Holliday and I’m gonna see if I can talk him down from finding each one of you and ripping your good-for-nothin’ heads off.”

Oh fuck.

Rees’s hand got really tight in mine.

The doorbell rang.

“Stay here, both of you,” I whispered to the kids and took off down the hall.

I opened the door to Colt, looked up in his serious eyes and informed him, “Living room.”

He nodded, passed me and moved down the hall. I stepped out into the chill but still weirdly warm Indiana in April night.

How I hadn’t seen it before opening the door, I had no idea.

I saw it then.

There was trash all over the bottom end of the front yard, the sidewalk and into the street. It was trash day the next day and No had rolled our bins out earlier. They were on their side, the bags open and all our garbage was strewn everywhere.

But that wasn’t it. There were opened and unrolled condoms everywhere. Dozens of them. Dozens and dozens.

I stepped out, scanned the area and stopped dead.

My truck and Mike’s SUV were parked in the garage. In the drive was No’s beat up junker. And by the light of the streetlamps I could see spray-painted all over it crude penises and the words,
Farmer Fin’s fuck buddy rides in this ride.

I noticed another cruiser heading toward our house but woodenly, my brain feeling funny, heated, swelling, like my skull wouldn’t hold it in, my eyes feeling the same in their sockets, I turned and went back into the house. Then I walked to the door to the garage, opened it, swung in and nabbed my keys off the key holder that was on the wall. I pulled out, shut the door and walked into the living room straight to No who was standing close to his sister.

I handed the keys and told him, “Go upstairs. Get dressed. We’ve got a long night. The minute your Dad or Colt tells you it’s all right, you pull my truck out and your car in. Yeah?”

I saw curiosity mixed with alertness enter his face, he nodded, looked to his Dad who gave him a chin jerk then he took off.

I walked in my short little nightie to where I could face the boys.

“Dusty, you get dressed too,” Mike ordered but I looked down to the boys.

“I know you three, I know exactly who you are, boys like you,” I said to them quietly. “And I know unless you make the decision right now, you will never change. You’re mean, useless, weak, pathetic rodents and unless you get your heads out of your asses, you will never be anything but mean, useless, weak, pathetic rodents. Not one thing good will happen in your life because you won’t deserve it. You’ll blame others but it’ll be
you
who makes that your reality. Right now, it’s not too late to stop being assholes. In a year, two, you’ll be fixed in that role for a lifetime and trust me, not anyone you know will think of you any differently. You’ll be known every minute you breathe on this earth to every soul who’s unfortunate enough to enter your atmosphere as the assholes you are. Wake up before it’s too late.” I started to move away but stopped and looked back at them. “And, personally, I hope Mike fails in his endeavors and Fin finds each and every one of you and teaches you the lesson you deserve to learn.”

Then without looking at them again, I walked away, my eyes going to Rees and I called, “Come here, honey, let’s go upstairs.”

She looked to me, nodded, we joined at the mouth to the hall and I walked her to the door of her room where I stopped her.

“They’ve trashed the front yard and you aren’t helping with clean up,” I told her. “And when you go into your room, I ask you, please, do not phone Fin. Tomorrow, he can learn of this. Now, you read, you listen to music, you do whatever to settle down and go to sleep, but don’t call Fin and don’t look outside. Please.”

“Is it bad?” she whispered.

“Yes,” I answered honestly.

“I can help,” she told me.

“You can but you aren’t going to,” I told her. “Your brother and I have this.”

“I –”

“Go into your room, Rees, please. We’ll sort this.”

“Is it about me?” she whispered, her voice trembling and I got close and took her hand.

“Honey, the good news is, boys grow outta this stuff. The bad news is, you being so pretty, you have about three years left of it. They have no shot at you. They have no shot at being as cool as Fin. It ticks them off and they’re too young and too stupid to know how to deal. So they feel like making you pay for just being you. Sure, stuff like this happens amongst adults. But by then you’ll have grown old enough and smart enough you’ll be able to handle it. Now, you let your Dad, brother and me handle it. And this is where you’re lucky because my guess is those kids down there have no one who cares about them enough to cushion them from anything. You do. Take advantage of it.”

Her teeth worried her lip and they did this a while. Then she nodded.

Then she said, “Okay, Dusty.”

I nodded back, squeezed her hand and let her go.

No came out of his room dressed and with his tennis shoes on. He gave me a look that told me he took his time to prepare for what he would see before hustling down the stairs.

I turned to Mike’s and my bedroom in order to get dressed.

* * * * *

Mike hit the top of the stairs and saw the light coming from his and Dusty’s bedroom at the end of the hall. The door was slightly ajar and Layla was already nosing through it to get to him.

He greeted her halfway with a rubdown then she trotted at his side as he walked the rest of the way.

He barely had the door pushed open before he heard, “Please, God, tell me you threw the book at them.”

He did not think he would smile so soon after what had happened that night and the fact that he’d spent the last two hours at the Station watching Colt explaining to three sets of angry parents that their children would not be released into their custody. They were being charged and they would see them in juvenile court the next day. Except Brandon Wannamaker who was eighteen. He would face his charges as an adult.

But he smiled and this was not only at her words but that he’d come home at four o’clock in the fucking morning after dealing with that bullshit to see her in his bed looking like she was comfortable there, looking like she belonged there. She was smack in the middle, her back was propped against the headboard, her knees cocked and she appeared to be reading something.

He’d waited a long, fucking time to come home from a shitty night dealing with shitty people to find a good woman in his bed waiting for him to get home and the beauty of that moment was not lost on him.