He couldn’t tell her any of that. She’d dealt with enough.
“I promise, Rach, if it was something you could help me with, I’d tell you.” It was mostly true too. If he came clean, she’d want to tell their parents everything, from the blackmail to the abortion. They’d both end up expelled for cheating, and her med school plans would be ruined because he’d made a stupid choice to buy a term paper. That couldn’t happen.
“This isn’t about you being gay, is it?” she whispered.
“No.”
“School?”
“I’m not telling you, so stop fishing.”
She pulled back and sniffled hard. “Will you take care of yourself? Please?”
“I will.”
“I mean it.”
“I know you do.”
After she left, he stared at the ceiling for a long time, wishing it had answers for him. Because he sure as hell didn’t have any answers for himself.
Chapter Ten
Gavin parked the Jeep in his spot in the narrow driveway, next to the empty place where his mother’s car would usually be. Instead, it was sitting at Joe’s Garage until morning, when Joe Tully could look at it and tell them why the damn thing wouldn’t start. The repair bill wasn’t something either of them really wanted to face, but Mama was taking the extra expense with her usual good humor. She’d called him half an hour ago to pick her up from the garage, and she was still smiling when she climbed out of the passenger side of the Jeep.
“Why are you so happy?” he asked, curious about her elevated mood.
Gravel crunched beneath their feet as they walked toward the trailer door. Mama said, “I had an excellent night at work, mijo.”
“Did someone accidentally tip you a fifty?”
She laughed as she reached for her house key. “No, nothing like that.”
“Dixie give you a raise?”
“No.”
“Peace in the Middle East?”
“God willing, but no.”
Gavin was stumped. He contemplated the reason for her mood while she pushed her key into the door. It turned too easily. Crap, had he forgotten to lock the door in his rush to go pick her up? He didn’t think so. He hadn’t forgotten to lock a door behind him since the sperm donor moved out.
Mama pushed the door and went inside, turning on the light as she passed the switch plate. Gavin followed on her heels. The screen door slammed shut behind him. He froze as the strong smell of raw onion made his nose tingle and his eyes sting. His heart seized. He grabbed Mama’s arm before she could go farther into the trailer. She stopped, didn’t fight him or ask—she knew too. He gave her elbow a strong squeeze.
“Dios mio, I forgot my purse in the car,” Mama said, and he couldn’t have loved her more for understanding. “I’ll be right back.”
“Want me to fix you some tea?” he asked, proud of his casual tone of voice.
“That would be lovely.”
Gavin shoved his cell phone at her, and as soon as she was outside, he dug a metal baseball bat out from behind the coat tree. His heart pounded so loudly it blocked out the rush of blood in his ears. He checked the small kitchen first, which was empty. The only thing out of place was an empty glass in the sink that hadn’t been there when he left. He tightened his grip on the bat.
Looking around by himself was idiotic, and he knew that with every step he took through the living room to the hallway. Knew he should go outside and wait for the police to check the trailer. They had guns and training, and all he had was a bat and some misplaced sense of nobility that might get him hurt tonight.
The stink of onion was stronger in the hallway. His bedroom door and the bathroom door were both open, the lights off. He paused, listened. Mama’s door was shut, a thin line of light glowing beneath it. Something behind the door shifted. Gavin took a step, and the floor creaked. His heart nearly stopped.
The bedroom door whipped open, and Gavin stumbled backward. He raised the bat like it was a tennis racket. The wide shape backlit in the doorway stood with hunched shoulders, clenched fists and danger in his eyes. Kai Hale was taller than him, with a good fifty pounds of muscle under flab, and the rapid-fire temper of a poked cobra. Gavin knew how fast his meaty hands could move and how hard they hit.
The obnoxious odor of raw onions mingled with the stink of bourbon, and Gavin nearly gagged.
Liquor + Kai = Bad News.
Suddenly the mysterious presence of a raw onion smell in the trailer over the last few days made sense. This wasn’t the first time Kai had broken into their place—but why? What the hell was he looking for? Rage began to overtake Gavin’s fear and squash his common sense right into the ground.