Reading my face, Marci’s eyes bugged. She skipped a step back and bumped into Ten. He grabbed her arm and shoved her toward the door. “Go,” he commanded.
But she didn’t move fast enough. I leapt, and the only thing that kept me from reaching a handful of pretty red hair and pulling it out by the roots was my roommate who jumped between us. She just gaped at me, her mouth fallen slack.
“You fucking spoiled brat.” I pointed an accusing finger over Ten’s shoulder. “If you weren’t a girl, I’d mess you up right now. Got that? Don’t you ever talk to me, or look at me, or think about me again. I want nothing to do with you.”
“But...” Tears filled her eyes as she pressed a hand against her chest. “I protected you, Noel. I didn’t give them a picture with your face in it. I didn’t tell anyone it was you. I freed you from her.”
“Like it fucking matters,” I roared. “They goddamn know it’s me, Marci. I told them it was me.”
“You wha...what?” She frowned, still not getting it. “Why would you do that?”
“You hurt the woman I love,” I told her, making it as clear as possible. “I will never forgive you for this.”
I began to shake as she called me a bastard and ran from the apartment, bawling. I pushed away from Ten and ran my hands through my hair, tempted to chase Marci down so I could wrap my fingers around her neck and squeeze.
Behind me, Ten let out a breath. “Man, I swear to God. I didn’t know—”
“Just shut up,” I snapped. Then I cursed as my cell phone rang. Aspen would pick this moment to finally call me back, wouldn’t she? Just when I’d learned exactly how much involvement I’d had in getting her thrown out of Ellamore. Just when I was feeling so shitty and guilty I wanted to curl into a ball and die.
But when I glanced at the screen and saw it was home, not her, I closed my eyes, not ready to take any more bad news from Caroline. But hell, whatever. It couldn’t be worse than what I was already dealing with, so bring it.
“Hey,” I answered, expecting my sister’s voice.
Instead my middle brother, Brandt, sobbed in my ear, his voice shaking like crazy. “Noel. Something’s wrong with Caroline. We need you.”
***
The sun was beginning to rise over the horizon when we entered Bluebird Heights trailer park. I’d been driving for the past four hours while Ten had slumped passed out in the passenger’s seat.
I owed him for this, big time. He didn’t have to let me borrow his truck when I’d asked, and he certainly hadn’t needed to volunteer to come along, but here he was. The annoying pain-in-my-ass roommate I’d had last week was gone, and this Oren Tenning seemed to be a completely improved edition.
Tapping his knee, I said, “Hey. We’re here.” Home, sweet trailer park, home.
He grumbled in his sleep before finally sitting up and rubbing his eyes. After stretching, he glanced out the window at the place where I’d grown up. “Shit, man. I had no idea.”
I didn’t answer, just parked and cut the engine. A torn dingy curtain had been sucked through a piece of cardboard covering one window. It fluttered in the breeze as if waving hello to us, while the scent of the nearby sewage plant had already seeped into the interior of the truck. I sat there a second, soaking in the feelings that always came with this place. The shame and anger and frustration of being Daisy Gamble’s son.
With a soft curse under my breath, I opened my door and stepped out. Ten followed without a word. I almost wished he’d pop out with some dumbass sarcastic comment, but he said nothing.
There were no steps leading up to the front door, so I just turned the handle and vaulted inside. My brothers were camped out in the dim front room, Colt sleeping on the couch and Brandt on the floor. Though it seemed too early in the year for them, a swarm of fruit flies danced around the dirty dishes piled in the kitchen.
I nudged Brandt’s leg with my shoe until he jerked awake and sat up.
He stared at me a moment before blinking and saying, “Noel?” When his voice cracked with emotion, I hauled him off the floor and into me for a bone-cracking hug. It took him a second, but he finally hugged me back, and when he did, he buried his face in my neck to let out one short sob. Jesus, but he’d gotten tall.
“How’s Caroline?” I asked, pulling away to see he still had a bruise on his face, a fresh reddish purple one.
He shook his head. “She’s bad. Real bad.”
I reached out to touch his discolored jaw, but stopped myself at the last second. “Shouldn’t that have healed by now?”
With a half shrug, he glanced away. “It’s a new one.”
New one. No one had told me he’d gotten beat up again. Hell, no one had told me much of anything in the last few weeks.
On the couch, Colton stirred. When he sat up, yawning and scratching his head, the holey blanket that had been covering him slipped down to reveal pale, boney arms. Shit, how much food did the kid eat? Looked like he only got fed once a week.