Secrets and Shadows (27 page)
For a girl like Amy … No. The thought rephrased in my head.
For a girl coming out of a situation like
Amy’s
, being on the Hil was huge. I had to remember that. “If you walk a mile in another’s shoes—” Mom said. Man, to have that sort of perspective without the pain that came with it …
With a swing of my hand the door’s big brass knocker announced my presence boldly with a harsh thump. I took a deep breath but was unprepared when the door swung open.
A woman smiled out at me. “Wel hel o.”
She was pretty. Fine-featured, with hair that nearly matched Amy’s natural shade, she wore fashionably conservative clothes—a neat blouse, a knee-length skirt, and heels. Around her neck was a hefty strand of pearls.
They nearly hid the bruises.
It was official. I was in over my head.
But so was Amy. And I’d been so self-involved recently—she deserved a friend who’d swim into shark-infested waters to pul her out when she was drowning.
I refocused on the woman’s face, smiling back. My stomach clenched at the thought I was seeing Amy’s future. “Hi. Mrs. Broderick?”
“Yes.” The smile wavered. “I’m sorry. You are—?”
“Jessica Gil mansen. I go to school with Marvin. You can cal me Jessie.”
“Oh. Wonderful. What can I do for you, Jessie?”
“I was wondering if Marvin’s home.”
“He’s eating breakfast. I could set you a place.”
“Oh. Um. Thanks but—” My stomach growled, betraying me.
“It is the most important meal of the day.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I agreed. I thought of Max waiting in the car. Obedient as a hound. At least I prayed he was.
“Marvin,” she cal ed. “One of your friends is here.” She opened a door into a dining space that put both my breakfast nook and the Rusakova’s dining room to shame. Even combined.
Light flooded in from a bank of tal windows, setting the elegant glassware and silver ablaze.
“Jessica.” Marvin said my name like he’d just gotten a bitter taste of something. I hoped he had.
Amy, at his elbow, raised her head, undeniably nervous.
I remembered wearing that look once when my family stayed at a real y amazing hotel. I kept waiting for a member of the staff to realize we didn’t belong and kick us to the curb.
“I’m setting Jessie a place for breakfast,” Mrs. Broderick explained as she took utensils from a fanned display on the buffet. She paused. “Jessie. Wasn’t your party last night?”
“Yes.”
“Did Marvin thank you for inviting him?”
My brain stuttered to a halt, letting my tongue rattle loosely in my head. “Errr…” No. I had a werewolf kick his sorry ass out. Not much to thank me for, probably. Unless he had the cake. The cake was good.
Not
made by Catherine.
“Marvin,” she scolded.
“The party was lovely, Jessica. Thank you for inviting me.”
I nearly believed him.
Bastard
. “My pleasure.”
Kicking you out, that is.
I smiled and took a seat.
“Then today’s your birthday, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Wel . Happy birthday, Jessie. I hope it’s a great one.”
“Me too. Thank you.”
Mrs. Broderick ladled out steaming diced potatoes, heaped scrambled eggs dotted with mushrooms (wild, I bet) onto my plate, and added a slice of ham the size of my head before topping things off with a buttermilk biscuit (doubtless not from a can) and freshly stewed strawberries. “Oh. I’m so sorry, Jessie. I didn’t ask if you’d prefer French toast and bacon instead.” She lifted the lid on another dish.
Max was gonna kil me. I hoped he had beef jerky in the car. The good kind.
“This is fabulous, Mrs. Broderick.” It was the best breakfast spread I’d seen in years. I careful y chewed everything, tasted everything, considered the nuances of flavors, savoring every moment. I almost forgot I wanted nothing more than to slowly choke Marvin into unconsciousness for beating Amy. Until she spoke.
“You’re making yummy noises,” Amy whispered, smiling.
Guilty, I blushed and took a swig of freshly squeezed orange juice. It was al so perfect. Until someone got mad. “You do al this yourself?”
“Of course.” Mrs. Broderick blinked at me. “My men love breakfast. And I love to keep my men happy.”
The last bite of ham was hard to swal ow as I considered the implications of having an unhappy man in Marvin’s household. I swept a bit of biscuit around my plate and popped it into my mouth. “Can Amy and I help you clean up?”
“Wel , the maid usual y…” Mrs. Broderick blinked at me again. “Actual y, yes. That would be—” She looked at Marvin for—
permission
?
He nodded.
“That would be delightful.”
“Great,” I said, gathering plates. “Lead the way. Come on, Amy!” I cal ed over my shoulder.
If looks could kil , the maid would have been cleaning up my corpse, courtesy of Marvin’s hatefil ed glare.
* * *
“Some men are better at business than at home, Jessie. They get unhappy if they’re caged.”
“Huh. I guess they might.”
She dried her hands on the delicate apron hanging around her narrow waist. “In real, lasting relationships you make sacrifices. A little of your happiness for some of his.”
Amy stared at the floor.
“But there’s a limit, right?” I pressed. “Some things people shouldn’t ever give up for a label like
lasting
relationship
.” I framed the last two words with air quotes.
“Like what?”
“Dignity.”
Amy’s eyes slid to me.
Mrs. Broderick blustered, tugging at her pearl necklace. “Of course,” she agreed. “It’s not love if there’s no dignity.”
I nodded. “I appreciate your hospitality. But Amy and I real y need to be going. I have a car waiting.”
“Oh. Maybe your driver knows our driver.”
“Maybe. Max often surprises me.”
Amy’s head came up at his name. “We’d better go.”
We hurried to the door, but didn’t make it out before Marvin caught us.
“
Baby
,” Marvin snapped out the endearment like the cracking of a whip. “You’l be back for dinner.”
“Sorry, Marvin,” I said with a shrug. “I think tonight we need to work on fixing Amy’s heart.”
His eyes were cold. Daring.
“The biology project. You know, Marvin, the model heart that’s due soon,” Amy whispered.
“Yep. It seems it’s gotten a bit confused and it’s a huge project fixing a heart if you’ve gotten it so wrong.”
His eyes narrow, there was no doubt he knew what I meant.
“You know biology’s not my best subject,” Amy reminded him.
“Fine. Your choice,” he snarled.
“Marvin!” his mother cal ed. “Getting good grades is the right choice. You should support it. How is
your
project going?”
He stared at her.
“I’l help you,” his mother promised, her voice dropping.
I grabbed Amy and dragged her through the grand doors and out of the beautiful hel she was courting.
“Back to the real world.” I shoved her into the front seat.
“What’d you do in there,” Max asked, “stop to eat?”
“Umm…”
“I snagged you a biscuit,” Amy said, reaching into her purse and opening a paper towel.
The look Max gave her was definitely related to hunger, but I doubted it was about the biscuit.
“Thank you.” Their hands touched as he took the biscuit from her.
Sparks.
And complications.
“Drive, Max,” I instructed. “Buckle up, Amy.”
Things were quiet, each of us thinking. Maybe not Max. But Amy and I were lost in thought until she broke the silence.
“He’s old money, you know.”
As if that justified it. “So were the Hapsburgs,” I griped.
“What?”
“The Hapsburgs. Old European powerbrokers. They made marriages al over based on cementing their hold in society.”
“And?”
“They had issues. Trying to hold al that money and power made them crazy. Sometimes literal y: big jaws, smal minds. Old money, new money. Too much makes people nuts.”
“Too much or too little,” Amy corrected.
Back at the Rusakovas’ house, we quickly forgot about biology projects and got into an argument.
“I just think—”
Amy shook her head. “You don’t just leave a guy like Marvin.”
I sighed. “Why not?”
“He gets crazy without me. He needs me,” she stated. “Leaving him makes things worse. Look. This isn’t some black-and-white thing,” Amy said.
“No. Black and blue,” I snapped.
“Marvin loves me. He just gets out of hand sometimes.”
“Have you seen your back recently?”
“Seriously? How often do people ever look at their backs? That’s why our worst bits are back there
—so we don’t see.”
“It’s not—” I glared at Pietr and Max, who lay on the rug between us, smirking at Amy’s logic. “It’s not funny. He hurts you. There’s nothing funny about that.”
Max nodded soberly. Pietr looked away.
Max puffed out a breath, admitting, “I was ready to—”
“Give him the scare of his life,” Pietr concluded quickly, shooting a reprimanding look at Max.
“
Da
.” Max snorted and rol ed onto his back. “
Pravda
.” He rol ed again; rising to his hands and knees he stalked to Amy’s seat, muscles sliding, bunching and coiling beneath his cotton T-shirt. Even ful y human I saw so much wolf in him I wondered how Amy could miss it. “Drop him,” he purred, placing a hand on either side of her on the love seat’s cushion and coming to a kneeling position so he was nose to nose with her.
“I—” She swal owed, pinned by his eyes.
“You need a reason?” he whispered, voice hoarse. I wiggled in my seat and looked away, aware I was seeing the beginning of something tremendously personal. But my eyes kept returning to them: my best friend and Pietr’s older, definitely hot brother.
Amy sat stock-stil , captivated as Max leaned in and kissed her. Like he knew her. Like he was working out some impassioned promise with his lips.
Harder than watching was
not
watching.
Pietr cleared his throat, catching me peeking.
Max pul ed back, slow and easy, head tilted, eyes never leaving Amy’s face as it went from warm pink to deep red.
deep red.
“I need more than that,” she whispered.
Max leaned in again—
“No!” she laughed, pushing him onto his heels. “I didn’t say more
of
that. You dog!” she taunted.
“You have no idea,” Pietr said with a yawn.
Max leaned back again. “What do you need to be rid of him?”
Pietr suggested a backhoe.
Amy looked at me for help, but I crossed my arms. “Name your price. Evidently Max’l give you as much of”—I waved my hand in the air—“
that
as you need. But what do you real y need to stand up to Marvin? To break it off?”
Amy played with her fingers and worried her lower lip between her teeth. Her eyes shut a moment.
When they opened, they were pained and pointedly honest.
Max set his hand on top of Amy’s, stifling her twitching. “What do you need?”
Never had I seen sadder eyes. Although she said, “Protection. A place to sleep,” I heard hidden beneath it:
a hero
. Her face screwed up in an anguish she must’ve masked for weeks. She pushed Max’s hand away, col apsing forward, head on her knees. She shook with a single sob, covering her head with her hands.
Max looked at me, stunned. Helpless.
I glared at him. A beautiful player, Max knew how to line the girls up. The last thing Amy needed was to get into line like the rest. I thought about Stel a Martin. How would she feel if Max just threw her away?
Like Sarah would if Pietr chose me. Devastated and betrayed.
Dammit
.
Amy needed a hero and as much hope as I had I doubted Max was ready for the job. Not yet.
“Move,” I ordered, shoving him aside. I looped an arm around her and stroked her hair. “You’l have it,” I promised. “We’l figure it out somehow. It’l be okay.”
She hiccupped in my grasp, a kitten instead of the tigress I’d grown up with, the girl I always thought I understood.
In the corner Max slunk into the shadows, his spine rigid, chin up. I wondered what he was thinking.
And then I saw the chain glittering around his neck and realized as much as he wanted Amy, he didn’t want her to come to him like the others had. Maybe he was closer to playing hero than either of us imagined.
* * *
Weirdness reigned.
Max might as wel have been dating me, the way he kept me just out of Derek’s reach. He could not have possibly made it to class. It was the weirdest game of keep-away I’d ever been involved in. While have possibly made it to class. It was the weirdest game of keep-away I’d ever been involved in. While Max hung on me and kept Derek at bay, being his big, gruff self, Pietr watched everything with wary eyes
—like there was something even he hadn’t been told.
“So, what’s going on?” Amy asked me in the girls’ bathroom between classes. I was starting to believe we spent so much time here we should redecorate for comfort. Or at least better lighting. “I feel like we’re being guarded by the sexiest thug brothers around.”
I raised an eyebrow at her in the mirror. “You broke it off with Marvin, right?”
“Yeah. Over the phone.”
“That’s safest, considering.”
“Max got my stuff from Dad’s trailer and official y moved me. It wasn’t pretty, but I’m living at the Rusakovas’ now, I guess.”
