Trouble Maker: A MacKenzie Family Novel (The MacKenzie Family) (2 page)

That was the last question she asked before his belt swished through the loops—a long hiss and slither—and then the lightning crack of the whip as the belt landed across the middle of her back.

No—Daddy hadn’t liked her saying those things at all.

Chapter Two

Thank God for the MacKenzies.

Marnie had learned through the years to keep her mouth shut and stay out of Harley Whitlock’s way. The older she got, the further apart the beatings came. Mostly because she tried hard to stay out of the little clapboard house with the leaking roof and sagging porch, and at sixteen, she’d gotten very good at avoiding him.

She spent most of her afternoons and weekends at Darcy MacKenzie’s house. They’d been thick as thieves since they’d been seated next to each other in Mrs. Green’s kindergarten class. It was much easier to pretend she belonged to them—to a family that loved her unconditionally and didn’t discipline with a leather strap and the smell of Jim Beam on their breath. To pretend the pretty blue-and-white room with the princess bed, and the closet full of clothes Darcy let her borrow so she wouldn’t have to wear the same three shirts week after week, belonged to her.

Her daddy spent most of his days and nights down at Duffey’s playing poker and drinking in the back room until Duffey tossed him and his buddies out. She assumed Daddy showed up at the MacKenzie Ranch for work from time to time, because they hadn’t been kicked out of the house they rented from James and Mary MacKenzie, and he always seemed to have money for his drinks and the poker pot.

Her father hated her. She knew that. But he also feared her gift. He’d said more than once that the devil lived inside of her and beating it out was the only way to get cleansed. She’d believed him when she was younger, but as she’d gotten older she’d started doing research. There were others like her. They might not have a gift as strong as hers, but she wasn’t alone.

She was also smart enough to know her days of living under the same roof as Harley Whitlock were numbered. But something had gotten into her tonight. Maybe it
was
the devil after all. Because she hadn’t cared about his anger or the belt. Even doormats had a threshold of tolerance before they unraveled.

Carson Hamilton owned a large patch of land on the outskirts of town, and every year he loaned it out to a traveling carnival. In they came with their trailers and tents and rides, setting up within a matter of hours. And when the sun went down, the whirl and flash of carnival lights could be seen all over Surrender. Even from their little house down in the valley.

Marnie had borrowed some of her freedom money from the Mason jar she kept hidden beneath the pieces of tin and rotten wood from a shed that had fallen down in their backyard. It had only taken her once to see her room ransacked and the money she’d kept in her drawer gone before she’d found a better hiding place.

Darcy had told her she was making an investment in herself. So Marnie had splurged to buy mascara and a lip-gloss that Darcy had sworn plumped her lips right up. Of course, her daddy would kill her if he ever saw her wearing makeup. They were tools of the devil, used to incite boys, and only sluts and actresses wore makeup.

Marnie had taken a little more of her freedom money so she could buy a Coke and cotton candy and still have enough to purchase tickets for a few rides. She’d been saving the last year, ever since she’d been old enough to get a part-time job at the library. And by her calculations, in one year and three days, she’d have enough saved so she could move to the city and find a better job while she went to college.

She’d ridden with Mama to the fairgrounds and helped her unload some homemade jams and a quilt that would be sold at the auction. Anything to bring in a little more money.

Marnie thought her mama had probably been beautiful once. Helen Whitlock was too thin and worry had etched deep lines around her mouth and eyes. There was no extra money for haircuts or color, so her dark hair was long and streaked with gray. She almost always wore it pulled straight back off her face in a tight bun. At thirty-eight, she should’ve still looked youthful and healthy, but instead she looked like an old, mousy woman, afraid of her own shadow.

Mama chose to stay in the tent with all the other women and the goods, so that left Marnie alone and to her own devices. She knew Darcy was around somewhere, so she set out to find her. What she found instead was Beckett Hamilton.

Her heart fluttered in her chest at the sight of him. He was nineteen and home for the summer after his first year of college. She couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t loved him, even when she was a little girl and she and Darcy would spy on her brothers and Beckett. The boys almost always had better adventures than they did. Mostly because they were boys and they had the run of the ranch. But there’d always been something about Beckett that captivated her attention. He was quiet, but there was a presence about him that made the others listen when he spoke.

He was king of the land—the heir to one of the wealthiest ranches in the country—and he was so far out of her league she should’ve been ashamed of even dreaming that he could love her in return. He was a little over six feet in height, and she’d noticed after his time away at college that he’d come back a little broader in the shoulders and chest. His hair was sandy blond and thick and wavy, always a little bit messy, and his eyes were storm cloud gray. She’d always thought it odd that there were no other variations of color in his eyes. Just gray. But they were direct and there was kindness in them. And when he smiled his eyes smiled too.

Beckett was surrounded by Declan, Shane, Thomas, and Riley MacKenzie. Declan and Shane were brothers, Thomas and Riley were brothers, and their respective fathers were brothers. They were all close to the same age. Shane was the youngest at eighteen and a senior at Surrender High School. Riley was the oldest at twenty-two and finishing up college. The others fell in between. And more often than not, they could be found hanging out together.

Beckett stood with a pellet gun to his shoulder, knocking down wooden ducks with little pings. He’d always had eyes like a hawk. The MacKenzies hooted with laughter as Beckett was handed the oversized stuffed bear as a prize, but the grin on his face was wide with pride.

Darcy came running up at that point, black hair flying and cheeks flushed with color. The heat had curled little tendrils around her face and neck, and the short denim skirt and crop top she wore showed off curves Marnie envied. Darcy dragged Emmitt Strain behind her, and he was holding a couple of small stuffed animals and a bag of popcorn.

“Man, that was awesome, Beck,” Darcy said. “I couldn’t see the whole thing because Shane’s giant head was in the way. But you really mowed down those helpless wooden ducks.”

“Shut up, Darce,” Shane said. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at Darcy and Emmitt’s joined hands, and Emmitt paled and quickly let go when he saw the look on Shane’s face.

Marnie almost smiled. She already knew there was no hope for Darcy and Emmitt. Emmitt played defense for the football team, but he didn’t have much of a spine outside of the football field. Or a brain. Darcy had both and she was destined for someone she couldn’t walk all over.

Darcy had always accepted Marnie’s gift, and she’d never shared the things Marnie had told her in confidence. They were the very best of friends, and they’d shared many secrets—crushes and gossip they’d heard from their parents or around town—but not everything. Darcy suspected about her father—it was impossible not to when it sometimes took days for Marnie to recover so she could be seen in public—but though Darcy’s eyes asked unspoken questions, Marnie had never confided in her. It was a shame she kept to herself.

Marnie often got clear visions of the people she was closest to, and she’d had several of Darcy. She’d understood at an early age that the gift she’d been given wasn’t always meant to share. That altering people’s decisions could change the entire course of their lives. The responsibility was one she didn’t take lightly. And drawing attention to herself was the last thing she wanted. Her father had gotten a call once from a center in Denver, wanting to put her through a series of tests, but he hadn’t been interested since they weren’t willing to pay. He’d beaten her for that too. Because she was useless and couldn’t pay her own way.

But she continued to see things. And she continued to keep those things to herself. But sometimes…sometimes the loneliness of her gift was overwhelming. She knew she could trust Darcy, and in one of those moments of loneliness Marnie let it slip that Darcy had already met her future husband. Darcy hadn’t been surprised by the news. But she said until Brant Scott got some sense in his head, she could at least have a little fun making him suffer.

Marnie stood to the outside of the group, observing the easy way the MacKenzies were with each other. They’d never made her feel less, despite the fact that their families owned the ranches her daddy worked for, but she wasn’t like them. It couldn’t have been more obvious. They didn’t know what it was like to go hungry because there wasn’t enough money to put food on the table. Daddy teased her about being the rich kids’ trash, but she never felt that way. Or hardly ever.

“I’ve been looking all over for you, Marnie,” Darcy said. “Mama said you could spend the night if you want and she’ll make pancakes in the morning. Cade’s home for a little while and he said he’d put up a new swing over the lake so we can jump in. And maybe we can go to the movies tomorrow night. That new Julia Roberts movie is playing if you want to see it, though I’d rather watch Bruce Willis blow up things. But Emmitt will have to buy our tickets because it’s rated R.”

“God, do you ever shut up?” Shane asked.

“No, and this is an A-B conversation. C you later.”

Marnie looked back and forth between the siblings and decided to jump in before they started arguing. MacKenzie arguments had been known to last weeks.

“I’m sure Mama won’t mind,” Marnie said. “It’ll give us a chance to study for our chemistry final too.”

Darcy’s eyes widened with great drama and she put her hands on Marnie’s shoulders, shaking her gently. “When are you going to start listening to me? Live a little, woman. You’ll ace that test no problem. We’re in our prime.” She held her arms open and spun around, and then she fluttered her eyelashes and flashed a sassy smile before putting her hands on her hips. “We’ve got the rest of our lives for all that serious stuff. It’s time to have fun.”

“Very responsible, Darce,” Declan said to his sister. “Thank God you’ve got Marnie to balance you out. I can only imagine the hellion you’d be without her.”

“She’s already a hellion,” Riley piped up. “She’d be a monster.”

Darcy turned on her cousin. “Shut up, Riley. Maybe you need to remember what I saw in the barn last week and that you owe me
big time
.”

The images in Darcy’s head broadcast through Marnie’s mind and the blood rushed to her cheeks in embarrassment. Riley was lying square on top of Colleen Walton and they were both naked as jaybirds. His bare buttocks flexed and Colleen’s nails clawed into his back while she howled like a wet cat. Marnie didn’t know a lot about sex, but Colleen was either in a lot of pain or she was enjoying herself immensely.

“Darcy…” Riley warned, his eyes narrowing with warning.

“Hey,” she said, shrugging. “I’m the one that’s probably going to need therapy. I’m just saying maybe you need to be a little nicer to me.” Her grin was mischievous, but Darcy had always been good at holding her own against her brothers and cousins. As the only girl in the pack, she said it was her duty to give them hell.

“Come on, Dec,” Riley said, slapping his cousin on the back. “Let’s go grab a pizza and a beer. I’ve got better things to do than hang out with children.”

Since Riley and Declan were the only two old enough to drink, it was a definite insult to the others.

“I don’t know if I’d call Colleen Walton something better to do,” Shane said snidely, elbowing Thomas in the ribs. “It’s hard to tell the difference between her and a screech owl. You ever notice how every time you bring her to the house, the horses and cattle try to run into the barn and hide?”

“Or maybe they’re trying to get a front row seat,” Thomas sneered. “Everybody knows y’all go in there to—”

“Thomas!” Riley took a step forward and raised his fist and everyone took a step back. The MacKenzies fought more often than not, but to Marnie’s trained eye it wasn’t out of anger, like with her father. They seemed to enjoy fighting. As if it were a sport.

Beckett moved so he stood between the two before fists could start flying. “This isn’t the place for a fight,” he said. “You’ll be hauled out by your ears before you get started. And watch what you’re saying in front of the girls. Mrs. MacKenzie would skin you good if she heard you talk that way.”

That was probably the only threat that could keep them in check. Mary MacKenzie was a force to be reckoned with when it came to keeping her boys in line—and that included her nephews too since their mother had passed on.

Riley nodded and took a step back. And then he grinned and gave Thomas and Shane a one-finger salute before he and Declan disappeared into the crowd.

Marnie had never thought about sex until the dreams started creeping in on her at night—Beckett’s face and his lips as he kissed her in the dark—only to be interrupted by the snap of her father’s belt as he punished her for having impure thoughts. Even her dreams were terrorized by her father.

Marnie could feel the heat in her cheeks at their candid talk, but she tried her best to act like it was no big deal. The truth was, she was scared to death of sex, and most of what she’d learned about it she and Darcy had overheard by listening in on her brothers. Her father had always said whores were the only ones who enjoyed sex, but Darcy said that was a flat-out lie and that she was going to enjoy the hell out of sex when she was ready to have it.

Darcy had talked her into borrowing the white cotton shorts and red top that stopped just above the top button of her shorts. It hung off one shoulder a little, showing the thin strap of the white tank she wore. She hadn’t been brave enough to go without it as Darcy had suggested. She’d never felt comfortable showing much skin, but she had to admit the bold contrast of the colors showed off the tan she had been working on by laying out at the lake.