Page 102 of Hold Still

Something’s really off.

I pull into her driveway and ring the bell. When no one answers, I knock loudly enough to wake the neighborhood. A woman I’ve never met answers. She looks me up and down. “Can I help you?”

I widen my stance. “I need to talk with McKenna right now.”

From inside the house, another woman’s voice sings, “Who’s that?” The woman in front of me half-turns and replies to McKenna’s mother, “A man looking for McKenna.”

“A man? My little McKenna’s too young to know any men. Send him away.”

The woman at the door shuts her eyes, steps outside and closes the door behind her, forcing me to take a step backward. “Now’s not a good time. Ozzy, right?”

I blink. I never introduced myself. Yeah, but it’s not like all of Vegas doesn’t know who you are, dude. “I need to talk with McKenna. Send her out to me.”

The middle-aged woman shakes her head. “She’s not here.”

I cross my arms across my chest. “I’ll wait.”

Not a shrinking violet, this woman puts her hands on her hips. “I don’t know how long she’ll be gone. Why don’t you leave and I’ll tell her you visited when she returns?”

I laugh. “Yeah. I’m sure you will. Who are you, anyway?”

Her posture shifts. “Elaine. And might I add that I have more right to be here than you do.”

Maybe I can take advantage of my charm with the ladies. “Well, Elaine, it looks like we’re at an impasse. I have some unfinished business with McKenna. So, let me in and I’ll happily wait until she gets back. Okay?” I wink at her.

“I can’t let you do that.”

Frustration rages through my bloodstream. “Listen, Elaine, I’m working on a short fuse. If McKenna’s not here, where the hell is she at,” I consult my watch, “eleven in the morning?”

The rumbling of a car pulling into the driveway diverts our attention. A man steps out—I recognize him from the tabloid photospread. Matt.

Next to me, Elaine sucks in her breath.

When he sees me at the front door, he puts his head down and rushes up the sidewalk, yelling, “You. You’ve been fucking my girlfriend.” Stopping half a foot away from me, he pushes against my chest.

“What the fuck?” I push him back.

The front door opens behind Elaine. McKenna’s mom stands in the open doorway, wearing a bathrobe. “What’s going on here?”

“Let’s take this inside,” Matt says and pushes me toward Elaine. I catch her before she and McKenna’s mother fall over, and Matt rushes by us. Once all four of us are inside, he slams the door shut.

Ignoring the two women, Matt turns his attention to me. “Thought after your stunt at the Big Reveal that you two were over.” He looks me up and down. “Guess I was wrong.” He cracks his knuckles. “Looks like I’m going to have me some fun.”

McKenna’s mom shrieks, “Who are these strange men! Get out of my house!” Neither Matt nor I turn our heads in her direction. Elaine hushes her and pulls her into the interior of the house.

“Come here, pretty boy.” He makes a “come hither” motion with his fingers.

Notching up my chin, I refuse to let him get the best of me. If my boyhood fights in Puerto Rico taught me anything, it was how to keep my wits. “You first.”

My stillness on the outside belies the blood surging against my veins’ walls. I’m pissed at McKenna—pissed at the world—and this guy might provide me with a much-needed outlet.

Matt lunges at me, but I duck and he misses. His next three punches score my face in rapid succession, which only enrages me further.

Weaving to avoid his next two attempts, he hits nothing but air. Spitting blood onto the carpet, I gloat, “Missed.”

He roars and rushes me again, pushing me backward and over a table. A lamp crashes to the floor.

A female voice screams.

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