Staking Her Claim...: Book 1 in the Patricks' Brothers series (13 page)

Doing the preliminary legwork, cross-referencing databases of missing persons nationwide, checking with hospitals, and combing through flight manifests, coming up blank. After a month of no progress, and a distraught father on my hands, I hit the ground running, eventually tracking the spoiled princess down in, Louisiana, holed up in a seedy motel with an ex-con, current junkie, and boyfriend.

Apparently they were meant to be if Madeline was to be believed. Knowing her father wouldn’t welcome her new man with open arms, Madeline set about making the worst known to mankind, choosing to forego her privileged lifestyle, creature comforts, and pampered existence to run away with a circus freak. Well, he wasn’t actually an honest to God circus freak, but he was definitely a freak nonetheless.

A day and a half of begging, pleading, and appealing to her common sense, I managed to persuade Madeline into returning home, ditching the cling-on along the way.

In the end, returned home safe and sound, Jack couldn’t have been more grateful for my assistance if he’d tried. Enter the aforementioned unconditional favor I’m owed. Honestly, I would have done it out of the goodness of my heart he was such a sweet man, but who am I to turn down a favor that had no time restrictions or caveats on it? You’d have to be a fool to refuse something like that back.

To cut what could turn out to be an even longer story short, Jack owed me and it was time for me to come collecting. One five-minute call later, and all was good in the land of make-believe. In T-minus two days, I would be making my international debut as none other than the elusive, Madeline Dennison. And I would be doing it on the arm of the disgustingly rich, extraordinarily handsome, Maxwell Clark. Not bad for half a day’s work, wouldn’t you agree?

Now for the hard part. How in the hell was I going to pull off the perfect combination of sweet and sour at the same time? In circumstances like this, I rely almost entirely on, Harper’s infinite wisdom to save the day, but without her around I would have to go it alone this once. The only thing I could come up with on my own, however, was for me to be saccharine sweet, plaster on a sour expression, drink some bitter champagne, and dress like a tart. I know, not my best-laid plan but what other choice do I have? I quite literally suck at this kind of stuff.

I couldn’t involve Harper because I was going to be pretending to date her ex. Not to mention, Brookes had decreed her freeze out regarding all things, ‘Operation Reveal the Stalker.' Have I made it clear I’m not my brothers biggest fan at the moment? Because if I haven’t, I should have.     

The request came down from, Brookes half an hour ago that I was needed to go and install a new system for the asshole who put in his order for a ready-made girlfriend. And I for one, couldn’t be happier to oblige him. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to check this guy out for myself because nothing would make me happier.

When I heard about, Brookes plan to use Alysia as bait to lure out a stalker I’d all but lost my mind. I mean, what brother willingly puts his sister in harm’s way for a complete stranger that’s what I’d like to know? Because for a second there, I was rethinking my opinion of the man who is the closest thing I’ve ever had to an older brother of my own. On hearing his decision to use his sister was based on, Harper’s involvement only heightened my unease over the whole situation. It raised more red flags than were already flying, and I didn’t like it. Not even a little bit. It did, however, explain why Brookes was so fired up about this case, wanting it solved quickly and quietly.

See, where Alysia is concerned, there is nothing more important than family, and Harper has been included on her list of VIP’s since the day they met. Like everyone else Alysia sets out to befriend, Harper never stood a chance against Alysia’s coercion tactics which were thinly veiled by her unique brand of sweet. A little bit like me…                                                                     

*****

Seventeen years ago…Robert is sixteen, Alysia is fifteen

“Did you hear me,”

Alysia asks, jabbing me with her bony elbow for good measure.

“Mmhmm,” I mutter distractedly.

I’m not going to admit I didn’t hear a word she just said, because if I did, I have no doubt it will end in her trying to kick my ass again. I’ve got to give her credit where credit’s due; because she really does give it her all when she puts her mind to something. It’s just she’s got no hope in hell of taking down a guy my size.

Alysia is all of five-foot if she’s lucky, and one hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. She keeps telling me that one day soon she’s going to have a growth spurt then her brothers and I will all be sorry. Most of the time I laugh her off because I really can’t see that happening, but occasionally I take the time to reassure her she’s perfect exactly the way she is. Every single time after I’ve tried to make her feel better I remember why I shouldn’t. Why I should just learn to keep my big mouth shut.

The way she looks at me scares the hell out of me. She looks at me like I hung the moon and I’m the answer to world hunger, but I know nothing could be further from the truth. I’m no one’s hero. I’m not even a particularly nice person. I am not approachable. I growl more than I laugh. And I scowl not smile. That’s why I don’t understand, Alysia having this stupid schoolgirl crush on me. I’m not special, or brainy, or funny. I’m mediocre at school, okay looking, and I play baseball like a boss, but nothing about that screams; crush-worthy.

As we get older, Alysia crush on me is only getting worse. Where I’d hoped she’d grow out of it and move on, she’s gotten more attached if that’s possible. I’ve tried everything I can think of to deter her. Some of the lengths I’ve gone to all in the name of discouraging her have pushed me out of my comfort zone, but at the time, I thought any one of them might work so it was worth the risk.

I’ve kissed plenty of girls; both in front of our high school’s biggest gossips, and a few in front of Alysia to prove to her I’m not interested in her. I’ve taken dates to the movies I knew she would be going to see so that she’d have a front row view of who I was involved with at the time. I’ve also made sure if there are parties I’m sure she’s going to attend I always have a girl or two hanging off me. The worst of my attempts to dissuade her was when I set a few of my baseball buddies up to ask her out. They’re decent, good looking guys, and I know they wouldn’t cross any lines with her, I figured it was safe enough. But I was wrong. Dead wrong.

What I hadn’t anticipated when I came up with this brilliant idea was Alysia saying yes to any of them. I know it’s what I’d wanted, but it felt a hell of a lot better when it was just a thought than actually watching it happen, and knowing there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it without letting her know I had feelings for her too.

That was what I was trying to hide after all; my feelings for her. Feelings I shouldn’t have in the first place. Feelings I didn’t deserve to have for a girl who’s as beautiful, kind, and generous she is. They weren’t new either, I had been having them since I was thirteen. You’d think I’d be used to them by now, that I could turn them off or ignore them, but I couldn’t. Every time I thought they were fading she’d have to go and do something that would renew them all over again. Take, for instance, the time she saved a little girl from falling down the stairs at one of our high school football games.

The two-year-old girl whose name we learned later is, Annabeth, had managed to sneak away from her Mom and make it to the end of the row they were sitting in before she noticed. Lena, Annabeth’s Mom, was heavily pregnant, and anyone who's seen a pregnant woman before knows that moving fast is a virtual impossibility, so when, Annabeth took a wobbly step toward the edge of concrete steps twenty-five rows up from ground level her all her Mom could do was scream.

Alysia had seen movement out of the corner of her eye, or so she told me later, and was up and out of her seat, rushing toward the toddler before I could even react. Scooping the little girl up, holding her tight to her chest, Alysia delivered her back to the now sobbing Lena and stay sitting with them until Lena got herself under control.

Watching the interaction between the three, my heart split open all over again, allowing all the feelings I thought had been buried or lost to resurface with a vengeance. After that, I was almost certain I was indeed in love with my best friend. Seeing her comfort, Lena, and Annabeth, who was distraught at the sight of her Mom’s tears, reinforced that I’d never truly be able to get over Alysia unless I did something drastic.

That was what I was thinking about while Alysia was chattering away beside me. I hadn’t heard a word she said because I was trying to work out how to break her heart without losing her friendship. I knew it was a long shot, but I could still hope, couldn’t I?

A warm hand on my forearm startles me, causing me to jump at the contact.

“Hey, are you okay, Rob? You’ve been off in your own little world for a whole ten minutes now.”

Had it been that long? Fuck. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I pat her hand and lean back on my elbows, stretching my legs out in front of me, crossing them at my ankles.

“Sorry. I’m just tired. Fine, but tired.”

Studying me carefully, Alysia must see something that relaxes her, because seconds later she’s stretching out beside me tipping her face skyward.

“I love it out here. It’s so peaceful.”

I love it here too. Alysia and I found this small, grassed alcove along the bank of a stream a mile or so from her house when we’d gone for a walk a few years ago. She’d been trying to escape her brothers for a little while after they’d done one of the many things they knew would piss her off. I can’t remember what it was they’d done now, but whatever it was, Alysia had been close to tears. And if there’s one thing that has the power to bring me to my knees where nothing else can, it’s the sight of her crying.

I’ve never been particularly good at dealing with emotional women. I never know what to say, what to do, or how to comfort them. But with Alysia, it came naturally. Somehow, I instinctively knew when she needed a hug, kind words, or to be left alone to sort whatever it was out in her own head. It had been that way since I gave in and let her befriend me. We clicked. She knew when I wanted, no, needed my space, and I knew when she needed to be treated like the fragile girl she was underneath her tough exterior.

We walked for a while in comfortable silence before, Alysia veered off the well-worn path beside the stream, cutting through the tall grass to the water’s edge. Following closely behind her, I held overhanging branches out of the way and maneuvered her away from rocks she’d have otherwise tripped over.

A few minutes later she stopped and sighed,

“Perfect.”

Taking the opportunity to look around, I noticed we’d stumbled across an untouched alcove filled with wildflowers, carpeted with lush green grass, and surrounded by a dense corpse of trees. Alysia was right. It was perfect. The perfect place to escape for a while. The perfect place to just be.

“Do you remember when we first found this place,” she murmurs, not opening her eyes.

Chuckling, I roll onto my side to face her.

“How could I forget? Your brothers had done something to upset you and you were close to tears. It’s not every day I get to see, Alysia Patricks’ cry.”

Flinging one of her arms out, she connects with my abs, exclaiming,

“You lie. I was not crying. I never cry.”

She’s not wrong.

The sum total of times I’ve actually seen tears, real tears from her is four. The first time, because she fell out of her brother’s treehouse after, Jett had given her helping hand of course. When I saw her hit the ground, the first thing I wanted to do was beat the shit of her brother for hurting her. Shit, a fall like that could have killed her if she’d landed wrong. It was, at least, twenty-foot drop, and that is not an exaggeration.

I didn’t need to act on how I felt toward, Jett, though. He was torn up about it if the look of terror and tears of his own he was shedding was anything to go by. Alysia however, she wasn’t crying because she was scared or in pain after breaking her leg in three places. No, she was crying because she’d ruined the brand new Doc Martens she got for her birthday. Girls, who understands them?

The second, third, and fourth times I’ve witnessed, Alysia cry were because of me. Each time because she’d seen the bruises and welts that covered nearly every inch of my body. I hadn’t intended for her to see them each time she did was purely accidental.

The first time my shirt had ridden up, exposing my lower back and sides when I was bending over to get something out of my locker. Her gasp of horror was all I needed to hear to assure me she’d seen what I made sure to hide, causing me to panic. I grabbed her arm and dragged her into an empty hallway, and made her promise me she’d never tell another soul. Refusing to let her go until she did, I stood, staring at her unblinking until she gave me the words I needed to hear. She kept her promise too. Alysia hasn’t told anyone, or, at least, she hasn’t to my knowledge.

The next time it was more of the same. She saw the marks, she cried, and I made her promise not to tell. But it was the fourth time she cried that would be forever burned into my memory.

That time was different. Alysia didn’t just cry quietly for a few minutes, dry her eyes, and gift me with a sad smile like she usually did. No, this time, she sobbed. Great, big, body-wracking sobs that tore my heart out and left it bleeding at her feet.

After her sobs had died down becoming soft, pained whimpers instead, Alysia asked me the question that would ensure I didn’t forget this moment ever.

“Why? Why do you let whoever does this to you do it, Rob?”

Not knowing how to answer her because I can’t without giving too much away, I turn away and try to leave, she grabs my hand and holds on tight.

“I know you don’t like me asking about it, and I haven’t. Not since that first time anyway. But I can’t sit by knowing someone is hurting you like this, Rob. You can’t ask that of me.”

Trying to shake loose of her hold, I say,

“You have to, Aly, because I’m not giving you a choice. If you want to be my friend, then you have to keep this to yourself. You can’t ask me about it, and you can’t cry for me anymore because every time you do, you break my heart. Seeing you cry destroys me, Aly.”

Dropping her hand, Alysia takes a step away from me, then another, and another.

“Then we can’t be friends anymore, can we? Because you can’t expect me not to care about you or not to cry when I see you’re hurting. You can’t ask me not to want to know what’s happening to you. And eventually when it gets so bad you can’t hide what’s happening to you under long sleeved T-shirts, jeans, and a scowl anymore, you can’t expect me not to speak up. But that’s what you want, isn’t it? It’s what you think you need me to do, and I just can’t. So I guess this is goodbye because you want something I’m not capable of giving you. You want me to turn a blind eye, and that’s not what friends do. Friends protect each other, Rob. Friends help each other when one is hurting.” Without giving me a chance to reply, Alysia stalked off down the hall, making that the last time we spoke for over a month.