Hanging Pawns (The Fate Series Book 2) (9 page)

I came to this school because it’s quiet and low key, I came here to stay out of people’s way and not get noticed, but now I seem to be in the middle of everything.

As I turn on to my street, I see my three neighbors on our side of the porch doing something to the mailbox.

Children…

The closer I get, the better I can make out what exactly they are doing. The mailbox is an on-the-street style one with a little flag on the side; it stands next to the railing at the bottom of the porch steps, and they have managed to rig a walkie-talkie against the bottom of it.

I walk up the steps, silently watching them. They straighten up when they see me, giving a polite nod and acting like they aren’t doing anything. They smile at me, and being courteous, I smile back as I continue on my way up the steps onto the porch.

“They aren’t home,” the one with the arm bandage says, walking up the steps to greet me. 

“I’m Simon. These are my brothers Chase and Dean. Would you like to leave them a message? I’m good at remembering things, and I can assure you I will have no problem telling them that… I’m sorry your name is?” He flashes a sinister smile at me.

Yeah, I bet you are.

“Mea.”  I watch at the other two slowly creep up the steps toward me.

When I say these three are identical I mean in every way possible… well from what I can see. The same dark blue eyes, the same ink black hair, even the same evil smirk, although Chase, I think is his name, wears it the best.

“Mea… You look familiar.” Simon steps closer, scanning over me. “Have we met?”

The smell of cedar coming off his clothes is powerful as it lingers in the air around me.

Taking a hard swallow, I back away from him.

“I don’t believe so, I think I would remember meeting you three.” I hesitantly laugh, trying not to cough in his face.

“Excuse him, he doesn’t understand personal space.” The one I think is Chase says, hooking his finger in the collar of Simon’s shirt and pulling him back.

“However, he is right, you do look familiar, could be the hair… We get mistaken for brothers all the time because of our hair,” he jokes.

I laugh at his obvious joke and watch Simon from the corner of my eye continue to stare at me like he’s trying to uncover some sort of secret.

“I do go to school with you… maybe you saw me yesterday?” I shrug.

“Were you with our roommate?” Dean wiggles his brows at me.

He’s actually adorable in a nerdy, want-to-pinch-his-cheeks kind of way.

“Yes, that was me,” I sigh.

The guys look at each other. “That’s it.” Dean snaps his fingers.

“So the message,” Chase blurts out.

Pulling out my keys, I turn and unlock the door.

“If you could just tell them I’m home, I would really appreciate it.” I smirk as their jaws hit the porch. “Oh, and Simon… is it?” He looks up at me with a cold stare. “Your cookies were…” I roll my eyes up and hum, slamming the door in their faces.

“Son of a bitch! She is one of them!” someone yells out, and I laugh to myself.

Okay, so I can kind of see the fun in teasing them…

It’s around ten by the time I finish my homework, and I realize Josh hasn’t been around to annoy me. Rolling onto my back, I stare up at the ceiling thinking about how comfortable it was with him earlier. But I shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of him. It’s not like it could ever go anywhere. My mother would have a heart attack if I ever dated someone she couldn’t control, and I have a feeling Josh doesn’t bend to someone else’s will… also he has nothing to offer her in trade so that makes him like me in her eyes… nothing.

I suddenly hear yelling coming from downstairs and against my better judgment, I get up to find out what’s going on.

When I get downstairs I instantly regret my decision and think I should have stayed where I was. A card game is going on at our dining room table and the guys are yelling at Molly and Morgan about always stacking the deck. Clearing my throat the guys sit back in their chairs and apologize as I walk in.

“She’s alive!!! Come nerd, sit and play!” Molly is waving her hand for me to come and sit in the empty chair on their side.

“Now it’s three on three… Don’t go crying to your pain-in-the-ass mother when you lose… again,” Molly taunts them.

The guys toss their cards down on the table to be shuffled and dealt.

“What are we playing? Poker, Rummy?” I cheerfully take a seat next to Morgan who is seated across from Chase. Simon eyes me from his chair across from me, and I give a polite smile.

He is so different from his brothers. I let the thought go, remembering how different I am from my family. I remember spending countless hours in the kitchen with the staff learning how to play cards when I was younger so this should work out well for me.

“Nope… Spoons.” Chase rubs his hands together as he gives Morgan a determined look.

“I’m sorry, what? You guys are freaking out over Spoons?”

Laughter bursts from my lips at the idea of these guys taking such a juvenile game seriously and then it hits me… of course they would.

“They cheat too much to play poker with.” Morgan glares at Chase.

“I told you! That was Grams! I swear I had nothing to do with that!” He holds his hands up in defeat.

“You’re blaming an elderly woman?” Molly shakes her head at him. “There is a special place in hell for people like that.” She shuffles the cards.

“I believe it will be right next to your chair.” He turns his humored death stare to Molly.

Embracing my inner child, I get comfortable. Molly deals the cards, Morgan sets up the spoons, and we all get ready.

Chase reaches across, bumping the end of the handle so it moves slightly from where it was.

“Don’t,” Morgan growls at him as she fixes it.

He slowly reaches back over and taps it again with a satisfied look on his face.

“Chase, I mean it, don’t.” She fixes it again.

I cover my mouth to hide my smile. When she looks down to pick up her cards, he taps it again.

Her head snaps up, her eyes wide with anger.

“Chase, if you touch it again, I’m going to jump over this table at you.” With her eyes focused on him she fixes it.

He blows her a kiss.

“Well now he’s going to do it just to get you on top of him.” Molly shakes her head.

Giving him a hard glare, Morgan lifts her cards.

“I love your OCD,” he muses.

“I would love to smack you,” she retorts.

I look back and forth between them, amusement plastered all over my face. I wonder if they realize just how much they deserve each other. I’ve only ever seen them together this once, and it’s obvious to me.

Simon sits quietly, his free arm crossed over his chest, and a scowl on his face that I’m pretty sure might just be the way he looks.  I want to ask what happened to his arm, but he doesn’t seem too eager to talk about it.

“You don’t look happy to be playing Spoons,” I say to him.

“I’m not. The girl who should be in your seat; it’s her favorite game.” His jaw tightens.

Okay, then. We don’t need to be friends.

After about an hour there is one spoon left, and it’s between Molly and Chase. Dean sits crouching next Molly whispering for her to choke. Without looking away from Chase, she reaches up and smacks Dean in the back of the head.

“What was that for?” He stands, rubbing his head.

She turns her head, slightly to look up at him but catches Chase slowly reaching for the spoon. She jumps up from her seat lunging at it. The spoon flies off the table in the other direction. Neither one notices though, and they begin to wrestle each other on top of the table over nothing. After a few minutes, they each have the other’s hair in one hand and their ears in the other. Morgan, Dean, Simon, and I stand around them waiting for them to finish.

“Let go of me and I will let go of you,” Chase begins negotiating.

“No way! I have played
this
game before, and I will let go when your girly hands remove themselves from me,” Molly snaps back.

I lean into Morgan. “Are they always like this?” I whisper.

“Oh, no… they are usually worse.” Morgan shakes her head. 

“Morgan, call off your boyfriend,” Molly yells to her.

Morgan’s head jerks back in disgust at the idea.

“That was mean and uncalled for. Just for that, Chase, she is all yours.” She waves them off. “I’m getting a glass of wine,” Morgan announces, walking out of the room.

“Get one for me too, will you, my love?” Chase calls after her.

Morgan mutters something from the kitchen.

“She loves me,” Chase muses with a wink at me.

I believe him.

“How do you usually break up a fight?” I turn to Dean.

“Normally it’s Simon and their sister that we have to break up, and we just grab ahold of each of them and pull. Sidney is a lot stronger so sometimes we have to use extreme measures. Molly, however, is more delicate.” He frowns.

“What did you call me? Morgan smack him,” Molly shouts.

Giving an impassive shrug she walks back in, puts one of the wine glasses down, lifts her hand and hits poor Dean in the head.

His eyes boring down on Molly, he rubs his head.

“Screw it, let’s just yank them apart,” he decides.

“Finally.” Simon claps his hands together.

“I’ll get one hand, Morgan, you get the other. Simon and Dean, you guys each grab a hand, and we will all remove at the same time,” I say.

Counting to three we peel them away from each other to separate them.

“I must say, Mea, you handled that like a pro.” Morgan pats my shoulder.

We all stop what we’re doing, and silence falls over the room like we’re waiting to get punished when we see Josh.

“If you’re fighting over this, it was here the whole time,” he says tossing the spoon onto the table. Molly dives for it and stands up to show her victory, rubbing it in Chase’s face that he was too slow. We clean up while she continues to gloat over the spoon and suggests that she should have it plated and hung on the wall for everyone to see.

Now to a normal human being, it’s a spoon. To Molly, it’s years of ‘look what I have and you don’t’.

I’ve had enough excitement for one night so after saying my goodbyes to everyone I head up to bed. The pain in my knees is gone, but they’re still red and bruised; I go into the bathroom to sit on the side of the tub and rinse them with peroxide. I hear a light tapping against the door, and then Josh comes in and sits on the bench at the vanity.

“I am sorry about dinner,” he says as he tears something open.

“Turn around and let’s see what they look like.”

Picking my legs up over the side I spin around to face him.

“They look better. I got you bigger Band-Aids after I left class,” he says, lifting my leg up and laying it across his thighs to dry the white foaming peroxide off before applying antiseptic gel and sticking on the Band-Aids.

“I feel terrible about dinner.” I look down at my legs.

He hums. “That was… it didn’t sound like you, I will admit that.”

I peek up at him.

“It wasn’t. I don’t know what came over me. And I’m sorry about being rude yesterday. It was a long—no, there is no excuse for that kind of behavior.” I smile at him as he continues to apply the Band-Aids to my knees. “You were amazing, and I acted like a jerk,” I confess.