Brady Remington Landed Me in Jail

  Viola glanced over and barked, "You. What's your name and relation?"

  I pushed him away. "He—he—he's no one. He's leaving. He's going to sit over there." I pointed across the waiting room.

  Josh stood up and sat down in the corner, but at a slow pace.

  Viola took his seat. "I know I should be the uppity grandmother, but I just can't. You've never been involved when he's gotten in trouble and you're involved this time. You were there! I am basking in this moment because I know you'll punish yourself ten times over from what a normal guardian would do. That's why—" She indulged in a sweet smile and patted my head. "—I can't do anything except hug you. I'll make margaritas when we get home."

  Her arms wrapped around me and I stiffened. My face was pushed into her smock and I mumbled to it, "You are completely abnormal."

  Viola laughed and then sighed, replete. "God, child. I have been waiting for your rebellious streak to unearth itself. I've been worried that even Brady couldn't get some of that naughtiness out."

  "Grandma!" I hissed.

  She shook her head and her curlers whipped back and forth. "Rayna, it's not healthy to be as straight laced as you are. This is a good thing. If you get pregnant, that'd be bad." Her hand patted my shoulder. "I know you're too good to be that stupid. And thank god that Brady hasn't impregnated some girl too. Now, talking of Brady—let me at Bailor. Where is he?" She whipped around, fixed the clerk with a determined scowl, and stalked back across the lounge.

  Pregnant. That was the only word I'd heard. There was no way I was pregnant…

  "That's your grandma?" Josh slipped back into his seat.

  I shook my head, lost in my own hazy hell. I could not be pregnant. No way.

  "She's scary. I think you saved my life." Josh laughed and shook his head. "Now I get why Uncle Frank always growls when Kid talks about you. I wouldn't want to go up against that either."

  I perked up. "Kid talks about me?"

  "Constantly. I think he does it because it drives Uncle Frank crazy. Kid gets a kick out of that." He frowned. "I shouldn't have told you that."

  I shrugged. "I get it. Brady likes to drive my grandma crazy too."

  Josh grunted, annoyed.

  Then a back door opened with a harsh bang. Deputy Doug led the way, followed by a stoic Frank Stephens. A bloodied and bruised Kid followed next and his shoulders were tense underneath his shirt. I caught a swooning look from the clerk when she saw the long tear in Kid's shirt, but she felt my gaze. Her eyes snapped to mine and I heard her "harrumph" before she turned back to the desk.

  "Dude," Josh greeted as he stood beside me.

  Kid grinned and bypassed his dad to thump his cousin on the shoulder. When Josh returned the favour, Kid suppressed a grimace, but Josh wrapped an arm around his shoulder to give him a one armed man-hug.

  The clerk still watched him underneath her eyelashes. She reminded me of a hungry cat eyeing up a bowl of cream.

  "Are you pressing charges?" Josh questioned just as Kid's eyes met mine.

  I jerked in shock at the look of apology and regret. What would Kid would be apologetic for…and towards me? Then I remembered Brady.

  He was pressing charges.

  "I understand, Mr. Stephens. I can promise that this will be the last altercation between the two boys. The restraining order will come into effect at midnight and this should be the last you see of Mr. Remington," Deputy Dog rasped out. He stood to his fullest height and held a firm hand out to Frank, who ignored it and instead swept cold eyes towards his son. He narrowed them for a brief second and an inaudible look was passed from father to son, but it was gone the next instant as Frank Stephens scanned his nephew and landed on me.

  Chills went down my back.

  I'd always known about Frank Stephens, how he had terrorized half the town into selling their businesses. Viola had ranted and raved about the injustice of our system when he'd hiked up the prices in every store and gas station that he owned. He would've been banned from having a monopoly over the town if it weren't for a small family-owned gas station. The stories hadn't mattered to me because I had never seen the infamous Frank Stephens in person and now that I had, I wished I hadn't come.

  He stood tall with a muscular build underneath a three-piece suit. With sandy brown hair that looked swept carelessly to the side and piercing blue eyes, I could see why the Senior Kidrick was rumoured to go from affair to affair. He exuded a cold disdain that was mixed with strong confidence. None of that mattered to me, but I sucked in my breath at the sight of pure hatred in his eyes when he stared at me.

  "Dad," Kid growled in warning.

  Deputy Doug cleared his throat.

  I couldn't look away from Mr. Stephens. I desperately wanted to, but I couldn't for some reason.

  "Let's go, Dad." Kid moved back across the room and stood in the line of fire between his father and me.

  I jerked at the sudden loss of…whatever it was. When my hand trembled, I flushed and tucked it in my back pocket. Then a door to the left opened and everyone heard the sound of locks turning in a back room. A police officer led the way and I tensed even more when I heard the familiar sound of my best friend's swagger.

  The police officer pointed him towards another desk in the far corner. As Brady bent over the counter and was given a pen to sign some papers, I looked back and noticed that Kid had grasped his father's arm. He pulled him towards the door, but Frank Stephens stared at Brady, riveted. He didn't budge.

  "That should be it, Brady," the police officer murmured, amused. He patted his shoulder in approval. "Dougie's pretty adamant, man. You gotta stay away from that other kid or your butt's going to be in a different jail for a lot longer than you've spent here. Trust me. Dougie's serious on this. You can't bust anymore skulls."

  Brady laughed huskily and turned around. The amusement vanished as he took in the group behind him. When he straightened in a flash, an ominous feeling swept through the room. I sucked in my breath and glanced at Frank Stephens. Remorse flashed in his eyes before a wall slammed in its place. I saw nothing after that. Puzzled, I looked back and caught Brady's gaze. He was asking if I was okay and I nodded with a small smile. I didn't dare say anything else. The room was ready to erupt.

  "We should go, Dad." Kid tried to pull his father towards the door, but Frank Stephens didn't move. His eyes were still glued on Brady.

  Brady took a step towards us, but was halted as the police officer slapped a hand on his arm. "They need to clear the room."

  He frowned, but said nothing.

  Josh snorted. "Well…this is awkward. If no one's going to start throwing punches, we should go, Uncle Frank."

  Then we heard Viola in a backroom. Her voice grew as she approached. "Bailor, if you didn't know how my ass looks in a grass skirt, we'd have to throw down here and now. You let that boy out or I'm going to Veronica about your indiscretion at the CornFestival of 1986. Don't think I don't remember what I saw because I do, even if things were a little fuzzy at the time."

  "Jeez, Vi. I was just joshing you. The boy's been released already. No charges were filed in the first place."

  She stopped in the doorway as she heard Judge Bailor's sheepish comment and spun around to the assembled group. Unlike Brady, she didn't have a police officer to hold her back as she surged forward. Her finger was drawn in the air with a pinched nerve on her forehead. Rage filled her shoulders. "What did you say to her, Frank? I won't have you berating my granddaughter. You get away from her, you and your son. I don't want either of you in her life!"

  Brady jerked forward against the officer's arm. Then Kid stepped in front of his father and stopped Viola in her tracks. "Stop it. He hasn't said a word and he's not pressing charges against Brady. Just…chill, old lady."

  Oh no.

  Brady cracked a grin and shook his head.

  Deputy Doug fought back a snort of laughter. Viola reared her head back, thought for a moment, and then crossed the room to stand toe to toe with Kidrick. She stoo
d an inch shorter and ferocious despite the fifty-year age difference. "You might've sent my daughter away twenty years ago, but you will not speak one word to my granddaughter or I will fulfill my promise, Frank."

  Shivers and confusion went down my back.

  Kid narrowed his eyes, confused too for a split second before he realized she wasn't talking to him. She wasn't even looking at him. He slowly turned, noticed the locked gazes between his father and Viola, and then stepped out of the way. It was at that moment that I felt someone take hold of my elbow. I jumped, but Brady watched Viola and the elder Kidrick. Disoriented at the sudden cautiousness in him, I touched his chest in wonderment. I didn't know what was going on, but I knew he was fearful for some reason.

  "Let's go," Brady murmured in my ear and led me away. No one noticed our departure except for Deputy Doug, who looked relieved. I glanced back a last time before the door shut behind us and my last view was of the silent standoff. My grandmother was brazen and Frank had a blank expression on his face with the promise of danger underneath his surface.

  "What was all that about?" And why hadn't he gotten charged?

  The usual cockiness was gone as Brady ran a tired hand through his flat hair. "I don't know, not really."

  I narrowed my eyes and got inside the car. "What do you mean that you don't know? You know something, don't you? Josh told me that your fight with Kid isn't really about me. Is that true?"

  Brady shifted the car in reverse and pulled into traffic. "I don't really know. The thing with Kid and me is stupid and some of it's about you, but some of it's not. I can't…I can't tell you. I'm sorry, but I can't."

  "Brady."

  "Rayna."

  "Tell me."

  "No, Rayray. Not this time. At least…not yet."

  Hearing the determination in his voice, I leaned back against the seat. "Why weren't charges pressed? That makes no sense. What you did to Kid…you were like a gorilla, Brady."

  He snorted and turned into Nellie's parking lot. "Who'd you get that from? That douche who kissed you?"

  "How'd you know that?"

  The cockiness flared back to his face as he flashed a smile and parked. "No one else would call me a gorilla. They know better."

  I followed him out of the car. "You mean they know you think sometimes before you start pounding fists? It sounds like a gorilla to me."

  Brady was on the sidewalk, but turned around. I stopped just short of slamming into him, but he caught my elbows and held me in front of me. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence and a thorough perusal, he asked, "Are you pissed at me?"

  Was I? During the party, the fight, and then the police station showdown, I hadn't had time to think about it. Now that I was away, I realized I was pissed. "You're darn right I'm mad. I just spent the night at a party where I got drunk, cried, thought we shouldn't be friends, and then watched you beat Kid up. That's not even adding all the stuff at the police station. You did this. You…you upheavaled my night. I wanted to stay in. I wanted to be boring. I like being boring, Brady"

  "Okay! Seriously. Stop shouting. Holy cow, Rayray."

  I hadn't realized I'd been shouting, but after I thought about it—I had every right to shout. "I feel like I don't know what's going on anymore. Nothing feels normal anymore."

  I looked away. I didn't want him to see the tears in my eyes, but Brady caught my chin and pulled me back. With a hand under my chin, he tilted my head up and my eyes met his. He asked in a somber voice, "You don't think we should be friends? Because I really want to kiss you right now."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I held a hand against his chest. "You can't kiss me."

  Brady frowned. "Why?"

  "Because I don't know what's going on. I don't know if this means something or not."

  "What are you talking about? Of course it means something."

  "Does it?" I frowned up at him. He looked beautiful. Shadows graced his cheekbones, giving him a thoughtful look. And the seriousness in his eyes allowed him a haunting presence. I felt my heart skip a beat. "I don't know what anything means right now."

  Brady stepped away from me. "What are you talking about?"

  Did I know? "I don't know, Brady. I just don't know."

  "Well, what are you talking about?"

  "Deputy Doug asked me about my mom. Why would he ask me about my mom? Why would Frank Stephens hate me so much? Why wouldn't he press charges against you? Nothing makes sense, Brady. And there are girls who say awful things about me…I don't know what to think. I don't know what to do, but the one thing I do know is that kissing you will make things more confusing. It'll be all sorts of confusing. Do you know what I mean? Am I crazy here?"

  Brady sighed as he wrapped his arms around me. I shuddered in them, a good shudder. He tucked his chin in my shoulder and murmured, "Do you know what I thought about in there? You, Rayna."

  I lifted my arms, fisted, and pressed them against his shoulders. I wanted to say something, I just couldn't.

  "You are my best friend. No matter what's going to be thrown at us, we can overcome it. I'm sure. I promise. I want—hell, I can't say that, but I can say that I want this. I want to kiss you, Rayna."

  "Hey you two!" Viola shouted across the street. A moment later we heard her car door slam and I lifted glazed eyes to watch my grandmother dart towards us. She looked giddy.

  Brady cursed under his breath, but turned with an arm braced around my shoulders. "Thanks for bailing me out, Vi. I owe you."

  Viola swept past us. "You sure do. I need you to keep my grandbaby on the straight and narrow."

  I flinched.

  Brady stiffened.

  Viola laughed and threw her head back. The sound was freeing. "I love it, Brady. You got my girl out for an all-night rager. That's what makes memories. It builds character. I need my baby to have some fun."

  I watched as my grandmother bypassed us and went inside of the gas station. "She makes it sound like I'm going to die a nun."

  When we heard Bob's welcoming roar inside, Brady hugged me. "Well, we both know you won't die a virgin."

  I stopped short, but Brady chuckled and kept going.

  Glaring at his back, I retorted, "Not funny."

  "That's my job, babe." Brady flashed me a smile as he held open the door.

  I wasn't sure which annoyed me the most: Brady's arrogance, my grandmother's expectation that I'd die from boredom, or Bob. At that moment, I picked the Bigfoot. I was going to ask if Ned would get rid of it, but the words died in my throat. He and Viola were involved in a heated discussion or maybe I should say that Ned was proclaiming his love and Viola was ignoring him.

  Some things never changed.

  "What about Friday night? I will buy a dozen roses. I'll light my humble abode on fire with candles. I'll have a gourmet meal delivered. How about it, Viola Leann?"

  My grandmother snorted and reached inside a freezer to pull out a carton of vanilla ice cream. "You mean you'll light the plastic fake-candles that you stole from the church five years ago and you'll order pizza for me?"

  "Well, when you put it like that, I could throw in for some cheesy bread. Would that do it for you?" Ned was so hopeful. "Don't forget the red roses. They're expensive."

  Viola stopped and tightened her hold on the ice cream. "I have been saying no to you for thirty-nine years, Ned. When's it going to change?"

  "I've got red roses, Viola. I know for a fact that Neil's never given you flowers. What kind of man is that?"

  Viola turned firm eyes on him. "That man has been by my side for forty-three years. And those were some long and hard years, Ned. You remember some of them. He has not once complained, whined, or made me cry. That is a feat no other man can measure up to. So you ask yourself if you could do better."

  Ned opened his mouth, thought for a second, and then closed it.

  Brady chuckled beside me and moved forward to follow them. As they moved further down the aisle, I heard Brady taunt, "You going to back down to that, Ned
? There isn't a feat that you can't imagine you'd overcome. Some of your lies sound better than that."

  "He ain't made her cry, Brady. I can't do better than that."

  Brady dismissed, "Come on. What kind of man doesn't make a woman cry? The best ones make 'em cry."

  "Brady Jake Remington. You are not helping one bit with your foolish encouragement."

  "Come on, Viola. Ned's just a bleeding heart here. He's a