Tanner
"Well, here we are," Coach says as if I would never have guessed that we had arrived at his house.
He'd pulled his car as close to the front door as he could get it without actually driving up the steps to the veranda and parking in the living room. As if that is not enough, he jumps out and runs around to the passenger side to open the door for me and helps me out. When he's satisfied that I'm planted on my feet, he opens the boot of his Ford Mustang and takes out both my bags and my schoolbag, filled to bursting with books.
Having him carry all my stuff is ridiculous, but I do feel a little comforted knowing that if his arms are full, he probably won't try to carry me over the threshold like I'm his friggin' bride. He ignores all my protests and offers to take at least half the baggage, and runs up the steps to open the front door for me.
I'm not friggin' dying! Am I? Is there something they're not telling me?
Still, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy to see the guy care so much; I'll aggressively draw the line if he tries to give me sponge baths or spoon-feed me. Now, if he wants to hire a sexy nurse to do those highly necessary tasks, I won't stop him... I might even suggest it.
Looking at my surroundings, I like the idea of staying here more and more. Though a little isolated from the neighbours, Coach's house is wedged between vertical cliffs shooting up to heaven on the two short sides and down in a sharp drop to the ocean on the back of the property; the only way his yard can be entered is from the front unless you're a mountain goat. If someone decides to come after me again, I'll be able to see them coming long before they reach the house because there is a long, clear driveway from the street to reach the gate, and then there are the dogs that bark the second a shadow appears at the start of the driveway. There can be no sneaking in.
Between Coach and me, we could deal with any attackers, and there's nobody vulnerable here to protect... well... sure... I might be a little bit vulnerable right now, but I'll rally if a fight is needed.
The house is on one level, sprawling along the cliff dropping into the ocean. There is no danger of the building plunging into the sea during floods or mudslides, as most of the property is made up of solid, non-crumbling rock. Only the front yard contains trees and shrubs, and lawns. This is a rather beautiful place, the front door opening into a vast living area and open plan kitchen, with windows spanning the entire back wall, causing an uninterrupted view of the ocean disappearing on the horizon. We often sit in here or on the back veranda watching whales and dolphins and ships, or even better, storms!
The place suits Coach. It is functional and rugged, with no frills or much in the line of decorations. He doesn't even have his trophies and medals on display. The guy does not like clutter, and despite his appearance, he is pretty neat. To the left of the living area is a door leading to the main bedroom, ensuite bathroom and walk-in closet and to the right, a short hallway leads from the kitchen to a study, extra bedrooms and a bathroom.
While he carries my stuff to one of the three spare bedrooms, I sit down on the terracotta tiled floor just inside the front door to receive his dogs' overwhelming welcome.
I run my fingers through Leo's thick black hair, and the huge German shepherd nearly floors me by leaning his weight against me in his idea of a hug; Sasha, the other German shepherd, cushions me from the other side, preventing my fall. She's resting her head against mine in a rather dainty way while she sits up straight, like the lady of the house is supposed to do. There is a noisy little thing that looks like a cross between a Basset Hound and a hamster clawing at my legs, trying to get into my lap while he barks and whines and carries on like a blooming opera star.
"Hey, Gizmo," the name really suits him; he might be a mogwai... on its way to becoming a gremlin. "Pipe down, won't you? Yeah, chew my hand instead; there's a good boy. "
Coach also has a couple of cats, but right now, they're off doing their nightly cat things, and I'll probably wake up to their butts on my face, as usual. The guy is almost as bad as Hunter when it comes to animals, except Hunter tries to heal everything he finds, and Coach adopts everything Hunter finds.
I'm still sitting on the floor, being licked to death, when Coach returns and helps me get to my feet.
"I've turned on the jacuzzi; a soak might do you some good," he says, the idea making me grin happily. The clan and I have had some fun times in that hot tub. Set in the back veranda, with glass walls that can be slid closed, It's the perfect hang-out for winter days.
"Thanks, sounds good."
I make coffee, and Coach helps me make sandwiches of the leftovers he brought from the Drakes, and when we have enough to feed an army, we change into our bathers and settle in the hot tub, our snacks and coffee languishing on the inflatable table drifting between us. The warm water feels amazing on my stiff muscles, and groaning, I relax into it, smiling at Coach when my groan causes him to give me a startled look.
I'm not used to him being this jumpy and concerned, though he tried to hide how upset he was when he saw my latest batch of cuts and bruises. Sure, he always takes our injuries seriously and looks after them, but not usually to the extent that he treats me like I'm made of eggshells. It is both touching and irritating. I could milk it or get mad. Right now, I choose just to ignore it because I am so friggin' tired, and every part of me is aching.
"So," I say, hoping to distract him before he can ask me for the 984th time if I'm okay. "You and Willow's mom..."
"Huh?" Ah! It worked like a charm; the guy no longer cares if I'm okay; he is comically freaked out. It actually worked a little too well, and now I have so many questions!
"Oh, come on, don't deny it," I chuckle at his horrified face. "You're a grown man, she's a grown woman, and she's hooooooooot. I get it."
He was taking a sip of his coffee to hide how guilty he was looking and, hearing my words, started choking on his sip, splashing some of his coffee in the tub.
"Seriously, Dude, if you cannot hold your liquor, you shouldn't be drinking in the jacuzzi."
"Oh, shut up," he grunts, putting his cup back in the hollow made for it on the floating table. "We're friends..."
"Riiiight," I grin. "I noticed that when I saw you together in your car."
Coach is frowning at me now, looking even more freaked out. "How did you see us? I dropped her off before I went to your place to pick you up..."
Oh, so they were together!
"I didn't say today."
If I'd been lying, I would've been on to him now because he is spluttering and gasping and looking for words; it is really pitiful. If I had a heart, I would totally be pitying him right now; besides, if he has nothing to hide, why does he look ready to slide under the water and learn the art of breathing down there? All I saw was him and Aunt B riding in his car one afternoon in the week. For all I know, he was giving her a lift to Bible study or something. Nothing wrong with being in a car together... especially if they are friends...
"Chill your bones, will ya?!" I laugh when he almost topples the table in his agitation. This is fun; he is acting seriously guilty! "I think It's really cool! If you have a good woman like her in your life, you might become almost likeable, and Willow can do with a good dad, so..."
"What?!" he squeaks, and now I'm laughing so much I could possibly topple our table. Shit, laughing really hurts my ribs. Okay, fun's over; I don't wanna die a self-inflicted death by laughter.
"What? You're just going to mess around with the woman? You don't have honourable intentions? There are no wedding bells in your plan?" I grumble, glaring at him, knowing I'm talking crap; the guy is not like that. Seeing him freaking out is still fun; I just need to hold in the laughter.
"Who are you now? My dad?" he grunts, brushing a hand through his hair, causing everywhere he touches to stand up in wet tufts. Actually, his hair was standing up before that too. Just how much product did the guy use? Was he going for a spikey look today? "Oh, wait... Becca's dad? You should chill your skeleton instead! Ryan already gave me the talk."
My skeleton?!
"The talk? You mean about the birds and the bees? What does he know about that? You should just come to the expert; I'll answer all your questions. I could even teach you some of my tricks."
"Seriously, shut up!" he snorts, splashing a wave of water in my direction big enough to flood a small city and our table wobbles precariously, braving the storm while I risk my life, laughing at him again. He is so easy to rile up.
"Dude! You're going to spill our snacks in the water, and then you'll feel my wrath!" I scold him with all the authority of... well... me...
"Your wrath?" he chortles, and I'm feeling a little offended by his lack of respect for my authority. "Is that when you're working in the garden and get freaked out by a harmless bug, and you squeal like a little girl while you go after it with the garden fork and stab yourself in the foot?"
"One time!" I growl. "It happened one time!" Well, it happened twice, but the other time was just a scratch, and there were no witnesses, so it's my secret.
"I'd say once is enough..." He is still laughing, lifting his mug from the table and carefully taking a sip while he squints at me over the rim. I watch him sip his coffee while I munch on one of our thick sandwiches. The steam is making me sleepy, and the sound of the bubbles is the best lullaby, enhancing the drowsiness. I can feel my eyelids growing heavy.
"You seriously make the best coffee," Coach says, grinning at me across the breadth of the hot tub. "You should move in. I'll marry Becca, and you and Willow can be brother and sister."
I narrow my eyes, giving him a look. I'm sure I must've fallen asleep for a few seconds and just dreamed that garbage.
"Can hardly wait," I snort, lying back against the side of the tub and closing my eyes, listening to him chuckle.
"So, Tan," he says, and I can hear from the tone of his voice that he is going to mess with me now. "Tell me about Molly..."
And just like that, I'm wide awake!
♫
Devan
The little shit is not looking so smug now, but my sense of victory is short-lived because I think I really hit a nerve. He looks almost devastated, and that is not what I was aiming for.
I'm curious about the whole Molly thing because, according to Job, Tan was very agitated about her safety, which makes me wonder exactly what is going on there. Nell Granger is a friend of mine, and I'm fond of Molly... and I'm well aware of Tanner's reputation when it comes to girls. I'm also not used to hearing about him being that protective of one who is not Paisley.
I was not surprised to hear about him defending and saving Ronja; that is a very Tanner thing to do, but the whole Molly situation has me curious and feeling a little wary. Then again, Tan doesn't get involved with girls who don't drag him into it first, so... Molly is fairly innocent as far as I know, and she tends to keep her own company. I didn't think that she and Tanner moved in the same circles. His visible reaction to my simple request has me on high alert now.
"There's nothing to tell," he says, and there's no way I'm accepting that.
"Riiiight," I say, mimicking his snotty attitude from earlier. "That is why you begged Job to deploy the entire police force to protect her. As far as I know, Molly doesn't have anything to do with the whole Mason business."
"She doesn't," he grunts, and I think he is preparing to get out of the tub because he puts his sandwich down and is trying to rise awkwardly due to his sore muscles.
"Okay! Okay, I'll stop," I relent, throwing up my hands. "Stay, have a soak. Eat more."
He sinks back under the water, watching me with a pouty look that reminds me of the slightly aggressive, frightened little boy I met so many years ago. The kid was such a mess back then, and who could blame him? His father and sister died, and his mother lost her mind, and then he came to live with his grandparents, just to have them die on him too, one after the other.
He had so much anger and confusion in him, and so did Hunter. It caused the boys to constantly jump at the chance to wreak havoc on each other's bodies when what they really needed to do was to talk about the things that were eating them on the inside. Sometimes, they still do that, but I think the two of them understand each other better than anybody else. Well, Tan and Galen perhaps understand each other even better, and they never fight anymore.
"How about truth for truth," I suggest, earning a narrow-eyed glare from him. It's a game I started with him when he was a kid, and we've often done it through the years. Sometimes, it works like a charm, and Tan will open his shell and spit out the facts that are bugging him. It all depends on how much he really wishes to talk about it. The guy can be a clam.
"Or not," I shrug, picking up one of the dark brown nutty bread sandwiches, thick with corned beef, salad and mayo. Beth baked the bread, and there's nothing like a slice of it, still warm from the oven, covered in genuine butter and cheese. She always makes sure to get a fresh, hot loaf to me whenever she's baking.
"You start," Tanner mumbles, and I try not to grin in victory; I don't want him to retract the invitation. I guess he really needs to talk.
"I like Becca," I state fact number one, but Tanner is not impressed; he is narrowing his eyes even more, and in the light of the moon and the subtle lanterns bathing the veranda in warmth, they are glittering, in the same way, a leopard's might right before it pounces.
"That is a bullshit fact; I already know that!" he grunts, and then he shrugs. "Fine, I like Molly."
"What do you mean by like?" I ask, surprised by the admission.
"What do you mean by like?" he repeats my own question back to me. He's right; I'm breaking the rules. I'm supposed to state facts that draw facts from him, not ask questions. Man, seriously, after surviving one conversation with Tanner, I could become a hostage negotiator!
"I think I'm falling in love with her," I admit, and now I'm the one frowning. I haven't even completely admitted that to myself yet or to Ryan... maybe Tan is better at this game than I am. He could become the hostage negotiator, though I kinda feel like a hostage right now. Still, he could just level those disconcerting eyes of his on the culprit, and they would roll over in surrender and hand over their hostages. The dude has scary eyes.
He is smirking at me now, clearly happy that he out-played me, and I shrug casually as if I didn't just bare my soul to the bastard and meant to admit that. His face softens, and it suddenly hits me that he is really glad to hear that. Maybe he cares, after all.
"I like hanging out with Molly," he says, and when I grunt, pressing my lips together, giving him a glare of my own, he sighs and shrugs too. "It's a different fact."
I'm still glaring at him, and he finally decides that since I opened up, he should too. It's the gentlemanly thing to do, after all, and despite being a complete savage, Tan is a gentleman.
"I honestly don't know what the story is, okay? I like being around her. She's funny and interesting. I like chatting with her, cooking with her and playing games with her. I don't even want to feel her up or anything. I mean, I want to, obviously, but I don't want to."
I'm blinking at him now; not sure I wanted that much information or how to feel about that.
"It's all Willow's fault," he says. "You should become her father quickly so you can sort her out."
"Huh?" We've gone from facts to confusion at record speed this time.
"I'm friends with Willow," he clarifies, and I'm still confused.
"So?"
"Friends, Coach, actual friends. She cried on my shoulder, covering me in snot."
That sounded a bit ominous; should I be worried?
"Why? What did you do?"
"Why does everybody just assume I did something?" Tanner exclaims, looking almost hurt now. "Fact is, she trusted me enough to do that. This afternoon I had a nap on her bed while she read to me and Hunter. We're actual friends. It's a bloody disaster!"
"It is?" I watch him scowling at me, and then it hits me: Tanner doesn't make friends with girls. Not really. Candice Swift is an exception, but she is a scary girl with issues of her own; they were bound to become some weird kind of friends. Willow falls in a category that is completely alien to the guy. "Oh! Well, that's good. You could do with a nice girl who is a friend; it could teach you all about being an actual human being."
He is grinning at me now, not even a little insulted by what I just said. He knows it's true. "Is her mom teaching you to be one?"
He draws, he shoots, he knocks me down!
"I'm willing to let her teach me," I shrug, taking away his ammunition, pretending that he didn't score a hit, and the bastard is laughing, really enjoying my discomfort.
"Fine, here's the thing," he finally straightens up, looking me in the eye with no sly grins or mischievous glints in his eyes. I can see that he is done messing with me and ready to talk about what's eating him. "I really like Molly; if I could, I'd hang out with her all the time. I even asked her to be my date for the year 12 dance, but the attack on Friday made me realise that I cannot drag her into my life. My life is up to shit, Coach.
"I don't deserve a girl like her, not even as a friend. I'm bound to get her hurt or killed. Girls like Molly and Willow should stay clear of me. I'm bad news... and I'm pissed off about that because..." he falls silent, staring morosely at the bubbles around him, giving the impression that he's boiling. Perhaps his inner turmoil and his anger are boiling the water around him. "I don't know why..."
"Because you really like her."
"Yeah... sure," he looks extremely miserable now, picking up a sandwich and gnawing on it with no regard for the perfect balance of flavours he'd created in there.
"Tan, you will be 18 in a couple of weeks. Just 18, not 180. You have your whole life ahead of you where you can make good choices and improve things." He might be listening because he is squinting at me with one eye open and one eye closed, still systematically eating his sandwich.
"Being friends with girls like Mol and Willow might be a good start, Buddy. Who the hell decided that you don't deserve a girl like Molly as your friend... or even girlfriend? Are you supposed to spend the next 70 years avoiding love and real friendship just because you made some mistakes before you were even 18 years old? It's never too late to change. Hell, if I had to live by your logic, I should be covered in gangster tats and high out of my mind right now... probably be in jail."
He is giving me that typical Tanner sceptical look of his, but I know I'm right, and he knows it too, and he eventually just stops looking at me and downs his coffee.
"Besides, doesn't Molly have a say in this?" I ask what I think is a pretty obvious question. Relationships consist of more than just one party. She should have a say too. "What about what she thinks or feels? And Willow, maybe she wants to be friends with you."
"Don't you care if they get hurt?" He is blinking at me, clearly being serious with that question.
"I do, but I think you, my friend, are overthinking things. Lie low here for a few days, see how the Mason thing pans out and get well again and then make decisions when you're not in shock and half dead."
Earlier, I called Augusta to tell her about my plans to take Tanner for a few days since she is his legal guardian, and I know how worried she is about him right now. She was relieved and told me to try to keep him with me as long as possible since he is safe here. That could be a tall order because there is no way to force Tanner to do things, stop him from doing things, or keep him here when he decides it's time to go... but I'm going to try.
Tanner is watching me through the steam, and it breaks my heart to see the guy look so tired, beaten and lost. I miss his normal cocky arrogance. It's usually fake, but I still miss it. He always has this indestructible air about him despite his almost vulnerable looks. He's the kind of guy who gets beaten up by life and then gets to his feet, bleeding and broken, shouting: Is that all you got?!
I know that it is fear for the people he cares about making him look like this now. Being jumped by armed thugs after crashing his bike definitely rattled the guy, but he will rise above that. He doesn't value himself or his life, but he does value the people he loves.
The boy is at a crossroads. He could harden himself and continue in his belief that he belongs with the kind of people who have no regard for their own lives or wellbeing and continue in his self-destructive ways, or he could turn away from all that and follow his heart and his dreams; find love, and build a future. Ry, Beth, Job, Augusta, and I are here to make sure he picks the right branch.
Perhaps Molly and Willow are finally helping him turn that bend.
♪♫♪