Resist Me (Change Me Book One - standalone): McCoy Raven Boys (9 page)

“We’ve grown up in Portland, and most of us still live in the area. I guess it’s because the whole family, including the cousins and all their parents seem to make one another stay,” he said. “My parents have a house in the suburbs. A beast of a house really, that can easily sleep twenty or more people.” He laughed.
 

It was the first time I’ve ever seen him laugh. And when he did, his face changed from that of a strong, unwavering male to a more approachable guy. Well, definitely not
sweet
or anything, but at least less intimidating guy. It was as if some dark, heavy curtain lifted, unveiling his gentler side. Or maybe I was just seeing things that didn’t exist.
 

“Are your brothers younger? Older?” I prompted.

“Three are older and one—Colton—is younger. Brooklyn and Ryley are twins. Then there is Nash, then me, and finally, Colton. Nash is only thirteen months younger than the twins, and I am exactly fourteen months younger than Nash. Seems like our parents didn’t rush that much with Colton though.”

“You must be close with your brothers,” I said, hearing so much longing in my voice. I felt hot scarlet slide over my face and I pressed my palms to my cheeks.
 

Thankfully, Ethan wasn’t looking at me, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. The traffic wasn’t too bad, and we were driving fast.
 

After a moment of silence, he said, “We are close. All of us: the brothers and the cousins. Sometimes it’s just too much, you know, because some of them get in trouble. So then the rest of us have to get those idiots rescued.”

“How about what you’re getting into now? With me? Isn’t that a
very
possible trouble?” I asked.
 

He glanced up at me and shrugged. “The possibility is always there. But don’t worry; I’m one of the most responsible ones in the family. Besides, if I tell them I need help, they will come. Most of them owe me for one thing or another.” He chuckled.
 

It was so foreign to me to actually hear about such a close-knit family. I’ve never experienced anything like it. I started to wonder, how wonderful it would be to start fresh, completely untarnished by my past. Why did my father have to leave us before I was even born? Why did my mother have to die? Even my grandparents were gone too soon. Everyone who was supposed to love me has disappeared from my existence before I was even old enough to fully comprehend what it meant to be loved.
 

I inhaled deeply and turned my head to look at the passenger window. The sun shone brightly in the clear, blue sky. It reminded me of Florida, where I grew up and always lived. Pacific Northwest was so different from what I knew. It was much greener and cooler, even now, in summer. The air was dryer, which I welcomed with relief. I didn’t miss Florida’s humidity.

“Are you okay?” I heard Ethan’s voice. I looked at him.
 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You went very quiet all of a sudden.”

“I’m not much of a talker. Unless you know me well.”

He nodded. “I’m not either,” he said and then added, “unless you know me well.”
 

I couldn’t help but laugh. It just came out funny. I guess that was his intention. Ethan reached behind his seat and produced a gigantic bag of potato chips. Uoh, my mouth watered immediately.
 

He dropped it in my lap. “Open it.”
 

He wasn’t used to saying “please” and “thank you”, but now that didn’t matter. I was hungry, so hungry that I started to fantasize about stuffing the whole bag in my mouth. I quickly ripped the seal, licking my lips in anticipation. I dug in, lifting a handful of chips out. I tilted the bag to Ethan. He put his hand in and withdrew with his fist clenched around a bunch of crispy, covered with salt chips.
 

I was already done with my first batch, so I quickly grabbed more. Worrying about the fact that I ate like a pig in front of him was the last thing on my mind now. The last meal I had consisted of a small dinner in the warehouse hideout last night. I wasn’t hungry then, so I just nibbled on some chicken pasta. I ended up leaving most of it in my bowl.
 

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and dug in for more. “God, I’m starving. Didn’t even realize until you took this bag out.”

“We’ll stop by a grocery store soon. There is one about ten miles from here. I usually pick up stuff there on the way to the cabin,” Ethan said.
 

I stuffed more chips in my mouth.

“There should be a bottle of water in the glove compartment.” He tipped his chin toward the spot in front of my knees.
 

I opened it. There was one plastic bottle of water, lying on top of what looked like the truck manual and one of those multiuse Swiss Army knives. The manual wobbled a little when I removed the water bottle from the top of it, so I suspected there was something under it.
 

I shouldn’t have snooped, but the curiosity took a better of me, and I peeked very quickly, before Ethan realized what I was doing. It was a walkie talkie of sorts, but it looked more solid than just a kids’ toy. Maybe it was a two-way radio? I didn’t see anything else in that glove compartment. It looked very neat. The whole truck was immaculate, and so I started to wonder if that’s how Ethan kept everything around him.
 

“Is there more, or just this one?” I took the bottle out.
 

“Just one. We’ll share,” he informed me.
 

I unscrewed the plastic cap and took a long, slow swig. The water was lukewarm, but I didn’t care. I could’ve drunk the whole thing, I was so thirsty, but that would be totally selfish. So I put the bottle down and wiped my lips with my fingers. There was salt from the chips on them, and I so ended up spreading it on my mouth. I licked it off and caught Ethan watching me. A blush blossomed on my cheeks as if I was a schoolgirl. He was so incredibly intimidating.
 

I offered him the bottle. He took it without saying anything and brought it to his lips. His bicep bulged when he bent his arm. Thick vein pulsed under his taut, tan skin, and I had a strange urge to run my fingers over it. I mentally slapped myself, bringing my senses back to normal. I tried to reason that I was just terribly confused.

Ethan passed the water back to me, but I knew he only drank a little. I declined and said that he should have the rest. He shrugged indifferently and did as I suggested.
 

We stayed silent for a long while; me, watching the quickly passing trees and buildings on the side of the road; Ethan, keeping his eyes straight ahead, occasionally glancing in the rearview mirror.
 

I caught one of those glances and asked, “Do you think someone might be actually following us?” My heart did a flip in my chest and started to race again. What if we
were
followed? What if we didn’t escape unnoticed as we hoped?
 

“I don’t think so. Since we left, I didn’t see a single vehicle or a motorcycle follow us. But I’m keeping an eye on the road,” he said quietly.
 

Was he really so sure, or did he simply try not to freak me out? My breath got shallow and ragged. I knew what was coming—I’ve developed anxiety as the aftermath of all the latest occurrences. I dug in my backpack, searching for my pills. I hated taking meds, but sometimes it was the only way to calm down. And now I didn’t want to have the full-blown anxiety attack.
 

Ethan squinted at me, but didn’t say anything. By now my hands trembled uncontrollably. My panic attacks were usually mild, but this one was approaching fast. Too fast. The vial fell down from between my fingers and rolled onto the floor. I tried to bend in my waist to retrieve it, but the seatbelt restrained me, so I unfastened it and quickly grabbed my pills.
 

“What’s that?” Ethan inquired. His eyes moving from the vial to my face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… uh, not really. I have anxiety now… from all those terrible things… you know, all I told you about. I need to take my pill.” I shook out a few white tablets onto my palm, put one in my mouth, and tilted my head back. We didn’t have any water left, so I had to swallow the medicine without it.
 

“What are you taking?”

“
Buspirone.”
 

Ethan asked, “How often?”

“Usually once a day, sometimes less. It depends on how I feel.”

“Do you have a prescription refill?”

I looked at him, not comprehending why he was asking me all these questions.
 

“I’m trained as a paramedic too, remember?” He seemed to read my mind. “If you need the meds, I have to know what pharmacy carries your refills.”

Wow, that was smart.
 

“Oh, it makes sense. Thanks for thinking of that,” I mumbled, openly staring at this bewildering man. “But I just got it refilled, so there is a month worth of the meds in here.” I lifted the orange-colored plastic container to show him.

He nodded. I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes, trying to breathe deeply and slowly. A few moments later I turned my head toward Ethan and looked at him. He was chewing on his lower lip, deep in thought, driving with one hand on the steering wheel and the other arm draped across his leg.
 

My medication probably started to kick in, because I became feeling more relaxed. I slumped even more in my seat, still watching Ethan. He wore washed-off jeans with a few small holes around the knees and one on his thigh. The black t-shirt with a small silver raven on the left side of his chest definitely wasn’t the Fire Department issued, so I assumed he changed when he went to grab his backpack from the firehouse. I thought about my own clothes which I swapped with Chris.
       

“What?” He raised his eye brows. “You’re staring at me.”

“Sorry.” I shrugged. “This is the first time in weeks that I’m actually not scared out of my wits. It feels really good.”

His eyes lingered on me. I was wondering what went through his mind now. But then he changed the subject, “That grocery store I mentioned is not far from here. When we get there, we’ll need to be swift and act inconspicuous so nobody remembers us.”
 

My expression must’ve changed at his words, because he added in a little bit gentler voice, “It’s okay. If we don’t bring any attention to ourselves, nobody should really notice us.”

“Ethan, I need to tell you something,” I said quietly.

He whipped his face back to me.
 

“My real name isn’t Gloria Glass. The FBI witness protection program changed it.”

“I figured that much.” He visibly relaxed. “So what is your real name?”

“It’s Lisbeth. Lisbeth Anderson.”

Chapter Ten

ETHAN
 

I thought her real name must have been something else, not Gloria Glass, since she was protected under the FBI program already. But I’ve already got used to calling her Gloria, although I only met her a few hours earlier. Lisbeth was a cool name. I didn’t think I’ve ever met a woman named that.
 

“So where are you from really?” I asked.
 

“Florida. Tampa Bay originally. But my family came from Sweden. I don’t remember any of them though. They all died when I was just three years old.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I really was. I couldn’t imagine being all alone in the world, even though my own family drove me crazy most of the time. But my parents, brothers, cousins, Grandma Ruth and everyone else were there for one another, no matter what. That’s how our family has always been—one for all and all for one. I’ve probably taken it for granted more than I’ve ever realized. We all have.
 

Lisbeth became quiet, staring straight at the road ahead of us. I’ve been stealing little glances at her when she wasn’t looking. She was a gorgeous woman, with high cheekbones and a small, straight nose. She was slim but curvy in all the right places. My eyes kept going to her lips, especially when she licked them. Crap, I was in so much trouble. How could I steer clear of her and be on high alert at the same time? I had to, no matter what. After all, self-control was a big part of both my job and my personality.
 

I slowed the truck and took the exit on the right. A sign on the side of the freeway indicated some restaurant choices. I wouldn’t opt for a place to sit down and order, since we were kinda on the run. But there was a fast food Mexican joint, which I hoped had a drive through option.
 

“The grocery store?” Lisbeth said through the mouthful of chips.
 

“No, we still have a while. But I want to grab something else to eat. We’re both hungry.”

I found the restaurant close to the exit. It didn’t look like much, but maybe the food wouldn’t kill us.
 

I expected Lisbeth to refuse to eat anything that came from there, but to my surprise she exclaimed excitedly, “Oh, I want a mega burrito, with a lot of shredded lettuce and chicken. Yum!”

A woman who got excited about eating a greasy burrito was not among those I knew. So Lisbeth just scored with me really high. I chuckled to myself.