Victoria Dahl - Looking for Trouble

Alex let her go and stood straight to force her arms off.

When she’d opened the door he’d gotten a glimpse inside her house, and his first impression was confirmed when she let him in. The place was tiny, but it had looked only a little run-down from the curb. But inside? Inside it was packed with papers and smelled stale. If she wasn’t obsessed with Alex’s dad now, she was obsessed with something else.

Alex stepped reluctantly inside. He was going to kill his brother.

“Oh, honey,” his mother gushed. “There’s so much left to do. Your father deserves this honor so much and I want it to be perfect. We need to discuss your eulogy and what—”

“Eulogy?” he snapped.

“Of course, Shane will speak first since he’s the oldest, and then you’ll speak. I’ll be the last to go. I have so much to—”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

She didn’t seem to register his tone. She turned and moved in a stiff, awkward gait toward the far side of the little living room, then started digging through a pile of papers. “I’ve only gotten half of it written, and I still need to put together the program. I’d hoped to have that done last week.”

Alex blew out a long breath. He’d been tricked. His mom hadn’t gotten over her husband’s disappearance at all. Oh, she’d had to accept that the man was dead, since Shane had found their father’s remains himself, but that clearly hadn’t stopped the madness.

What exactly did his mom think Alex had to say about the man? From what I remember, he was a decent father, but I must’ve been wrong since he got himself killed while running off with some floozy.

Alex watched his mother read frantically over the papers in her hand, her lips moving. He recognized that bright-eyed fever. It had taken up half his childhood.

He didn’t even turn around when the door opened behind him. “You said she was better,” he said flatly.

“Alex.”

Despite his anger, he didn’t resist when Shane spun him around and grabbed him in a hug. In fact, Alex didn’t even resist hugging him back. Shit. Shane had taken care of him all those times when their mom had shut herself in her room for days. Shane might’ve tricked him, but the man was still his big brother.

Though Alex might actually be the bigger one now. That was a little disorienting. Shane had always seemed huge to Alex.

“Jesus,” Shane said, pulling back to hold Alex at arm’s length. “What the hell happened to your hair? And your baby face?”

“The hair’s still there somewhere. But I lost the baby face a long time ago.”

“I guess so.” Shane slapped his shoulder. Hard. “Christ. Look at you.”

“Look at you,” Alex said. “You look good.” He did. Shane had grown a couple of inches himself, and he’d gotten a lot stronger, but there wasn’t any gray in his hair yet, and the lines around his eyes seemed to be from smiling. He’d always been the charming one.

Still. “This isn’t what you said it was, Shane.”

Shane’s eyes drifted past his shoulder and his smile faded. He lowered his voice. “She was getting better. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“This is better?”

“No. Two months ago she seemed more stable...I mean it,” he insisted when Alex shot him a disgusted look. “She’s been seeing a psychiatrist for a while. She apparently has something called borderline personality disorder. It makes her...extreme. I don’t know. The doctor thought this ceremony would be a good idea since Mom wasn’t exactly stable when we interred Dad’s remains last year. Closure and all that.”

“Closure. For her? Or you?”

Shane shot him a hard look, but didn’t take the bait. “For her. She’s starting to accept that he’s been dead this whole time and was never coming back.”

“Yeah. Guess I had that pegged.” The old anger was pushing through now, forcing his blood pressure up until Alex could feel his heart banging.

“As for me, I’ve spent the past sixteen years more worried about you than Dad.”

“Yeah, well...I was doing fine until you dragged me back into this.” Alex tipped his head toward their mother, who seemed oblivious to the quiet tension.

“She was better—” Shane started again, but Alex cut him off.

“Maybe you’re just too damn used to the crazy to see it.”

Shane’s jaw stiffened with anger, but his voice stayed calm and low. “I didn’t open myself back up to this until she started getting help. She’s been good. I mean it. Maybe this is just... I don’t know. Maybe it’s just coming to a head, and once the ceremony is done...”

“Sounds like the same old wishful thinking, Shane.”

Shane stared at him for a long moment, his eyes blazing with whatever he wasn’t saying. But he just shook his head. “Maybe. But I’m not going to pretend I’m sorry you’re here.”

“Shane!” their mom suddenly yelped. “Tell your brother he needs to have his speech done by tomorrow night. It can’t wait!”

Alex shook his head. “I guess I’ll be sorry for the both of us. And if you think I’m participating in this dedication, you’ve got another think coming.”

Shane started to reach one hand toward him, but Alex brushed past him and headed for the door. This family was as sick as ever. He shouldn’t have come.

Shane followed him across the living room. “Don’t run away again,” he said quietly.

Alex paused, his hand on the doorknob. “I didn’t run away the first time. I started a life, and I plan to get back to it.”

“Fine. Just give me a few days. That’s all.”

“Okay,” Alex agreed. “A few days. I just came by to let you know I’m here, so you didn’t have to worry I wouldn’t show up. You’ve got my number if you need me.”

“We’re getting together tonight with my girlfriend, Merry, to figure out the logistics of the dedication. She’s the one who runs the ghost town, so if you want to see where we’ll be holding the dedication, Merry will be out there until six. We’re meeting for dinner at the Wagon Wheel at seven.”

Alex shook his head, not sure if he was refusing or just exasperated as he stepped out and closed the door behind him. Shane didn’t follow, but Alex only made it halfway to the sidewalk before he was stopped. Not by his brother or his conscience, but by the sight of a very pretty, very angry young woman heading straight toward him on his mother’s front walkway. Her head was down, the sun glinting off her red hair, and her mouth held tight in a frown. The hands that clutched a crumpled pile of papers to her chest were white around the knuckles.

She was only two steps away when she looked up and stumbled to a stop. “Oh,” her pink lips said, her anger falling away to surprise for a brief moment. She pushed up her little black glasses. The anger returned within a few heartbeats and her flushed cheeks got even redder as her eyes narrowed, first at him, then at the door behind him.

“Here.” She shoved the papers at his chest, and Alex automatically caught them. Sticky tape grabbed at his fingers as he tried to catch the few sheets that slipped away. “Tell her to leave me the hell alone.”

“What?” he asked.

“I have tried to be patient, but I won’t tolerate harassment. I’ve reached my limit.” Her finger poked at the papers and a few more fell away. “Tell her to stay off my property and out of my life.”

“Who?” he started, but the wild bundle of female fury spun away from him and stalked off. Alex’s eyes followed her as she turned left and marched down the street. The skirt of her green dress swayed with the movement of her hips, the black belt drawing his eye to her slim little waist. He lost sight of her when she reached some pine trees, but kept staring for a few seconds anyway. Who in the world had that been?