Page 27 of Out of Control

Athena gave me a confused look, but unbuckled and took my mom’s offered hand and followed her up to the front door.

I slowly exited my car, pressing the button to lock it behind me, as I made my way up the overgrown walkway my mom used to take so much pride in. I made a mental note to arrange for a gardener to come out soon.

“Lucas didn’t tell me he’d be bringing a guest with him!” I could hear her exclaiming in excitement, much too loud for a quarter after six in the morning. I saw her hesitate as she wrapped an arm around Athena’s waist, pausing at the body armor, but to Mom’s credit she didn’t say anything, just kept guiding Athena forward.

The front door of the house next door slammed open and I prepared my ears. “What the hell is the racket about so goddamned early on a Friday morning?”

“Sorry, Mr. Rosenberg!” I called back at a much more reasonable volume. “We’re heading inside right now.”

“You bet your ass you’re sorry,” he grumbled, stumbling his way back in his house. I could see his poor wife waiting in the entryway, giving a small wave of apology as she closed the door behind her husband.

For my entire childhood I remembered Mr. Rosenberg being quick to anger and not afraid to be loud about it, but Mrs. Rosenberg being such a calming, kind friend to my mom. Too bad Mom couldn’t find it in her to keep up with friendships anymore.

I closed and locked the door behind me, trying to keep a straight face while Mom greeted Athena.

“Can I take your jacket and…bulletproof vest for you, darling?”

“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Blake,” she said, shrugging out of her jacket and loosening the velcro on the vest.

“Oh, it’s Meedes, dear, after my late second husband. But you can call me Margaret.”

“You can call her Mrs. Meedes,” I disagreed. “Mom, this isn’t a friend, it’s an uncooperative person of interest I’m keeping safe. She’s here because you needed me, not for any other reason.”

My mom eyed Athena in her cute, short little pajama shorts and purple top, then pointedly gave me the side eye when she caught me glancing at those lean, sexy legs again.

“Sure thing, honey. I believe you.” She turned back to Athena. “Call me Margaret.”

I rolled my eyes, but Athena giggled. Why did that giggle irritate me so much?

“Margaret,” Athena agreed, giving me a smug little smile. She was enjoying this too much. “Is everything okay with you? Your little Lucas was in such a hurry to come see his mama, after all.”

I glared at the back of Athena’s head as my mom took her arm and led her into the living room.

“Mom, maybe Athena could make herself a cup of coffee in the kitchen while you and I talk?” Athena didn’t need to be involved in this conversation. She didn’t need to be involved in any of this.

“Oh, I don’t need any coffee. I’m wide awake,” Athena asserted with glee.

“She’s fine, Lukie, come. Let’s have a sit and I can tell you what I heard and why I called.”

There was no getting around it. The woman I despised most in the world was about to hear a lot of personal information and I either had to deal with it or risk my mother’s wrath by being rude to a guest.

After a millisecond of thought I quietly sat down. I chose the armchair across from my mom’s favorite spot on the love seat and took out my little notebook and pen in preparation while she led Athena to sit down next to her on the couch. It didn’t escape my notice that they still had their arms linked together, like they were old friends.

Athena looked like the kid who won herself a chocolate factory, eyes eager as she waited for juicy gossip to use against me, but there was no going back now.

“What’s going on, Mom? What did you hear and from whom?”

“I woke up at five, as usual, to get the paper from out front.” I nodded. Mom had an irrational fear of someone stealing her newspaper and an even worse fear of getting her news in digital form from her phone, so she always got up early enough to look out the front window and see the rolled up newspaper land on her lawn.

“Okay. Was it something the paper-guy said or did that attracted your attention?”

She shook her head. I glanced at Athena, waiting for the moment she’d figure it out and use this information against me. She was running her hands up and down those damn legs. I reached for the afghan hanging on the back of the chair behind me, handing it off to her. If she was cold, it would hit two birds with one stone: keeping her warm and covering up those distracting legs at the same time.

“No, it was in the paper. There was an interview with a man who was married forelevenyears.”

I tried to keep the pity out of my eyes. “Eleven years, huh? How long was the engagement?”

“That’s just it: there was no engagement. They eloped the same night they met.”

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