Double Dare, Page 2

  coffee table among the empty root beer cans and discarded bags of chips.

  “Come on!” Brenda said, gushing with excitement as she stood up, grabbed Marybeth’s arm, pulling her off the couch and attempted to drag her across the room so that they could put their names in a bowl so that one of the boys who’d bathed in cheap cologne could feel them up in the closet for five minutes.

  Yeah…

  She was good.

  “I’m going home,” she said, pulling her arm free and headed for the glass patio door only to groan a few seconds later when Brenda latched onto her arm and made another desperate attempt to get her to stay.

  “You can’t go yet!” Brenda whispered somewhat hysterically. “Come on, you promised!”

  “No,” Marybeth said, placing her hand over Brenda’s and gently pried her hand off, “I really didn’t.”

  “It’s just five minutes!”

  “In a closet with a horny teenage boy who doesn’t even known my name,” she said dryly as she deftly freed her arm and headed for the glass patio doors that promised freedom and fresh air. “I’ll pass.”

  “Please!” Brenda begged, making another mad grab for her arm, but before Brenda could reach her, Marybeth slid the double doors open and was outside, shutting the door behind her.

  “Where are you going?” the only person in the world that could make her smile even as he pissed her off asked from where he stood, leaning back against the house where he’d apparently been waiting for her.

  “Home,” she said, gesturing towards the woods and the path that would take her home where she could sit on her couch, eating cookie dough and watching old Saturday Night Live episodes while she pretended to study for her algebra test.

  “I see,” Darrin murmured thoughtfully and as much as she’d love to ignore him and go home, something in his tone had her stopping and turning around to glare at him.

  “You see what exactly?” she asked, narrowing her eyes on him.

  “That you’re a chicken,” he said with that cocky smile of his, the same one that most of the men in his family seemed to have perfected by the age of ten.

  She blinked up at him, sure that she’d misheard him. “I’m a chicken because I didn’t want to go in a closet and get felt up by some boy that I barely know?”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head with a heavy sigh as he leaned back against the wall, “because you’re running away from your feelings for me.”

  “My feelings for you?” she repeated back slowly, wondering if he’d managed to hit his head today.

  “You’re madly in love with me,” he said solemnly, making her roll her eyes in exasperation.

  “Puhlease,” she said, shaking her head as she turned around and headed for the path and the cookie dough that she’d hidden in the back of fridge.

  “Everyone knows”

  “Then everyone is delusional,” she said, not bothering to bite back her smile as she ducked beneath an overhanging branch and stepped onto the well-worn path.

  “This just proves how badly you want me,” he explained as he joined her on the path.

  “Because I’m walking away from you?” she asked dryly as she ducked beneath another branch.

  “I think running would be a more fitting word,” he said, sounding thoughtful and earning an exasperated shake of her head and a roll of her eyes as she placed her hand on his arm to steady herself as she stepped over a fallen log blocking their path.

  “Really?”

  “Mmmmhmm.”

  “You do realize that I was leaving the party before you showed up, right?” she asked with a resigned sigh as he hung that large arm of his over her shoulders.

  “Because you sensed me.”

  “You’re right. I did,” she admitted with a solemn nod.

  “I knew it,” he said, sighing heavily as he gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze.

  “Want to tell me why you bothered to show up at all?” she asked, shooting him a curious glance to find him looking down at her.

  “Why wouldn’t I show up?” he asked, frowning.

  “Because you weren’t invited?”

  He shrugged it off. “That usually doesn’t stop me.”

  Well, that was true…

  “There’s also the fact that you said that you had no interest in going to that party,” she reminded him as they navigated their way around a large puddle blocking their path.

  “I changed my mind,” he simply said as they stepped back on the path.

  “About?”

  “Waiting until later to give you your dare,” he said offhandedly and if she hadn’t been watching the cute little chipmunk sitting in the middle of the trail she probably would have realized what he’d said sooner.

  As it was, she’d barely managed to break away from him before he asked, “Don’t you want to hear your dare?”

  “No!” she yelled over her shoulder as she darted off towards the right, hoping the dense woods would provide her with some sort of protection, but thanks to her lack of athletic ability and a thick root sticking out of the ground, she didn’t make it very far before he turned his dare into a double dare that ended with her spending the next six months sentenced to doing grunt work for Uncle Jared and cursing the day that she’d heard the phrase, “Double Dare.”

  Fenway Park

  Boston, MA

  2009

  Age 23

  “Looks like Trevor’s getting arrested.”

  “Uh huh, that’s nice,” she said, not bothering to look up from the iPad mini that she felt was rightfully hers now.

  “Marybeth-” the betraying bastard once again started with his bullshit apology, but she knew the tone that he was using a little too well.

  “It’s not going to work,” she said, absently swiping her finger over the iPad’s screen, sighing heavily when the new page didn’t look any more promising than the last one had.

  “But, I’m really sorry,” Darrin, the bastard that she couldn’t seem to shake, said, sounding like he was pouting, which he most likely was since his charming tone hadn’t worked on her.

  “Rot in hell, you selfish bastard,” she said, trying not to cringe when she saw the asking price for a basic one bedroom apartment on Royal Ave, which wasn’t exactly encouraging since Royal Ave was located in one of the worst parts of the city.

  “I can’t believe that you’re still mad,” the asshole muttered, grabbing her beer and finishing it off.

  “Believe it, you male whore,” she muttered, once again swiping, cringing, and swiping again.

  “But, she attacked me!” Darrin said with the typical Bradford arrogance and drama that she was, unfortunately, used to.

  “Uh huh, that’s nice,” she said, wondering if she should look for a new roommate only to dismiss the idea seconds later. There was no way that she was going to be able to go through that again, not unless she cut the jerk stealing her hotdog out of her life and after all the years of bullshit that he’d put her through, she just couldn’t do it. She’d put too much time in training this one and at her age, she really didn’t like the idea of breaking in a new best friend.

  “What if I told you that I could make it up to you?” Darrin asked, putting his arm around the back of her seat so that he could lean in next to her and look at the screen.

  “I’d call you a lying bastard,” she said, not bothering to shove him away since it wouldn’t do any good. The bastard simply didn’t understand the concept of personal space, at least not where she was concerned.

  He’d always been that way. When they were kids he’d grab her by the hand and drag her everywhere, demand to sit next to her at lunch or in class, and he always had his arm thrown around her, always. If he’d been any other guy, she probably would have shoved him away or kicked him in the balls, but….

  It was Darrin, her best friend. Besides, by this point she barely noticed it anymore. She did notice when the women that he was dating took exception to it, mostly because they got all bitchy and p
issy and thought to try to lay claim to Darrin and shove her out of the picture. It never worked, but she did appreciate the entertainment. She was a permanent fixture in his life and if a woman couldn’t accept that, Darrin dropped her without a second thought.

  She would like to say that it was the same way for her, but Darrin really didn’t give her a choice in the matter. If any guy that she was dating took offense to their friendship, Darrin, the asshole who was currently eating her chips, would take it upon himself to show the guy to the door. It still pissed her off when he did it, but at this point it just wasn’t worth bitching about, not when he did other things to piss her off, other things that caused her roommate to have a meltdown, had the swat team breaking down her door, her landlord getting a restraining order against her and forcing her to sleep on her brother’s ratty old sofa. With Darrin Bradford she’d learned a long time ago that she had to pick and choose her battles or deal with his glares and bitching.

  “I was going to tell you that Trevor had a townhouse for rent, dirt cheap, but since you’re not interested…,” he let his words drift off, shrugging as he sat back in his chair.

  She had to snort in disbelief, she really did. “You’re forgetting that he swore that he would never rent to either one of us again after what happened with that delivery kid from Papa Gino’s.”

  She still hadn’t forgiven Darrin for that one either. Trevor had been the best landlord that she’d ever had. He wasn’t a jerk, never raised her rent, always took care of his properties and never rented to any assholes, well, any assholes that he wasn’t related to anyway. She missed her old apartment. It had been large, newly updated, weather proofed and most importantly, really cheap, but the bastard next to her had ruined it for her, because of a late night craving he’d had for Buffalo wings.

  “He’s looking to sell it, because it’s not bringing in much money. He’s just looking for a tenant to stay there to make it look occupied. He said it’s harder to sell a place if it’s empty, because it looks less attractive to prospective buyers,” Darrin explained as he signaled to a vendor passing by their row.

  It was tempting, very tempting, but…

  “I need a place longer than just for a month or two,” she pointed out, knowing that it wouldn’t take long for Trevor to sell the townhouse since all his properties were kept in perfect condition.

  “True,” Darrin said, handing the vendor five dollars for an ice cold Coke, “but I was thinking that he might finance you if you wanted to buy the property.”

  She had to roll her eyes even as excitement bubbled inside her at the prospect of finally owning her own home. It was tempting, really tempting. She would love having a place of her own, love to be able to work on it without having to ask her landlord’s permission for every little thing, love to have the peace of mind and security that owning a home would bring, but she knew that it would never happen. As a single woman in her twenties with only a GED, decent, not perfect, credit and none of her family willing to co-sign for her, she would probably never own her own home. It also didn’t hurt that her savings, while decent, was nowhere close to being enough for a twenty percent down payment.

  “He’s not going to finance me,” she sighed, finally looking up from the iPad so that she could swipe the Coke from his hands.

  He narrowed his beautiful green eyes on her as she made a show of opening the soda bottle and taking a long satisfying sip, trying not to smile as he signaled the vendor for another bottle. As she took a second, and just as satisfying, sip of her soda she couldn’t help but appreciate the man now glaring at her. With short, messy black hair, a golden tan, perfect masculine features and an incredible build, he was every women’s walking wet dream, not hers, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t appreciate a hot guy when she saw one.

  “If he doesn’t, then Uncle Jared probably would,” he said with a shrug, finishing off his soda before grabbing hers and finishing that off as well.

  “Uncle Jared isn’t going to help me,” she mumbled, looking past Darrin to watch as Trevor was shoved down to his knees by three cops and handcuffed while Zoe frantically tried to explain something to the officers, probably something to do with the twins, she thought with a yawn. She looked over to find Uncle Jared holding the twins, who were looking a little too innocent as they ate their ice cream cones. She knew without a doubt that whatever was going on, the two-year-olds were definitely behind it.

  “Of course he would,” Darrin said, looking bored as he watched the little scene to their right unfold.

  “I’m just an employee,” she pointed out, trying not to wince when Trevor was shoved down to the cement staircase, face first.

  “Don’t let Uncle Jared hear you say that,” Darrin said, shifting back in his seat to get more comfortable.

  “Shouldn’t you help him?” she asked, gesturing towards Trevor as several more cops raced towards them since she didn’t feel like arguing about her boss and her weird place in the Bradford family.

  “Probably,” Darrin said around a yawn.

  “Are you going to?” she asked, watching as Trevor was yanked back up to his feet.

  “In a minute or two,” Darrin said, signaling for another Coke as they watched Zoe gesturing wildly between her twins, her husband and the field.

  “What the hell?” Jason snapped as he was suddenly grabbed by two cops and shoved to his knees next to Trevor.

  “Do you think the twins planned this?” she asked, taking the Coke from the vendor and gesturing for him to step aside so that she could watch the show.

  “It’s hard to say,” Darrin said, taking the Coke from her and taking a long sip before handing it back to her.

  “It’s kind of frightening,” she mumbled around a sip, watching as Haley walked over to join the drama.

  Darrin chuckled, taking the bottle back as Haley, smiling hugely, pulled out her cellphone and started taking pictures of her husband as a three hundred pound cop patted him down. After a slight pause, Marybeth followed suit and pulled her cellphone out, deciding that she might need a good laugh later tonight when she had to fight with her brother’s dog, affectionately named Killer, for space on the couch.

  “I guess I should give them a hand,” Darrin said, taking one last sip before handing her the now-empty bottle.

  “Hold up,” she said, reaching out and stopping him by placing a hand on his arm. “I just want to get this…shot,” she said, angling her phone to just the right angle so that she could capture this momentous occasion. “Got it,” she said, with a satisfied sigh as she sat back and put her phone away.

  “Text them my way,” Darrin said, standing up as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his badge.

  “You know my fee,” she said, signaling to the vendor for a beer as she leaned back in her seat and watched as the Yankees creamed the Red Sox.

  Darrin chuckled as he pulled out some money and paid for her beer. “I’m not doing your laundry.”

  “We’ll see,” she said, knowing that the need to rub his cousins’ noses in this later would be his downfall. She might not have a place to stay yet, but at least she wouldn’t have to worry about doing her laundry for a week, she mused, sipping her beer as she took advantage of Darrin’s absence and bought another hot dog.

  *-*-*-*

  “Not fucking happening,” Trevor said, carefully picking up his Styrofoam cup of water with his handcuffed hands and took a sip before he added, “So fuck off.”

  “Why not?” Darrin asked, absently adjusting his holster as he leaned back against the wall and took a sip of his coffee.

  Trevor blinked up at him. “Because I hate you. Was I not clear about that?”

  “No,” Darrin said, lightly blowing on his coffee before he took another small sip, “you were quite clear about that.”

  “Then why are you wasting my time with this bullshit?”

  He pointedly looked around the small holding room that security had thrown Trevor in over two hours ago. “Do you have somethi
ng better to do?”

  “Seethe,” Trevor bit out.

  “You know that I can make this whole thing go away, don’t you?” he asked casually, not mentioning that he’d already done that or that Trevor was free to go since that would take away his leverage.

  “I’d rather become Bubba’s bitch,” Trevor informed him, which of course made him sigh heavily as he shook his head, wondering why the bastards in his family had to make things so difficult.

  “You know that I’ll never miss a payment,” he pointed out, hoping to talk some damn sense into his cousin.

  Trevor snorted at that. “It’s not about the money.”