Page 43 of The Wives of Hawthorne Lane
“Dean and I have been friends a long time, but he’s never deserved you.”
Maggie is too frightened to agree, too frightened to move. Her skin feels like it’s burning where Mike’s fingers were, but still she says nothing.
“What if…” Mike continues, drawing closer to her now. “What if I found a way to leave your name out of all of this? Would you like that?”
He trails the back of his hand over the curve of her neck, his touch featherlight. It sends a wave of chills coursing through Maggie’s body, and she jumps away from him, presses herself against the cold metal of her car, her heart firing rapidly in her chest.
Mike narrows his oil-black eyes at her, her rejection kindling anger. “Have it your way,” he spits. “This isbothof your problems now. And you’re going to pay up. One way or another.”
Maggie clambers into the car and pulls the door shut behind her. She jams the key into the ignition and peels out of the driveway, her foot quaking on the accelerator. As she looks into her rearview mirror, she finds that he’s still standing there, watching her in the cloud of dust she’d left behind.
—
Maggie drives slowly down MainStreet,trying to retrace her steps on that awful night. She knows it’s the only way she’ll be able to find the old gas station again. She’d been lost then, in an unfamiliar part of town.
On the sidewalk, two teenagers whiz by on bicycles. A boy and a girl, the girl’s hair fanning out behind her as she rides. It’s like seeing a memory broadcast over reality, Maggie and Sam at that age. Tears well in Maggie’s eyes at the thought of her old friend. What would he think of her if he could see her now? Why hadn’t she just listened to him when she had the chance? He’d tried to warn her about Dean, but she’d been too stubborn to listen.
Sam and Dean met only once. At a bar Dean had chosen. The kind of place where beer was served in frothy pint glasses, and the paper menus were slipped into sticky plastic sleeves. It was shortly after Maggie and Dean had started dating, and she found that she was nervous. Sam and Dean were the two most important men, the two most importantpeople,in her life, and she was desperate for them to like each other.
When Sam walked into the bar, Maggie felt her heart crack wide open. It had been months since they’d seen each other, and she hadn’t realized how much she missed him. He wore worn, dark-washed jeans and a button-down flannel shirt, and he had something of a beard that Maggie had never seen before. She stood from the table, a huge smile on her face as she waved him over. She felt Dean bristle next to her, his eyes sharp and appraising on the other man. It hadn’t occurred to her that Dean might be jealous of Sam. She’d never really thought of Sam in that way. He’d always just been Sam. Her Sam. More like a brother to her than anything else. A brother who was now standing beside the table, casting a large shadow across Dean’s face.
Sam offered Dean a hand and they shook, nodding at each other coolly, and then Sam wrapped Maggie in a hug, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around. “I’ve missed you, Mags.”
They sat at a small, round table, Maggie positioned between thetwo men. She felt like she was playing Ping-Pong all night, her attention swiveling from Dean to Sam and back as she tried to engage them both in conversation. The atmosphere was tense, the men appraising each other like boxers in a ring.
“So what do you do for a living?” Sam eventually asked Dean. It seemed to Maggie that, thus far, they’d both gone out of their way to avoid speaking to each other directly.
“I work on cars.”
“Oh, that’s cool.”
“Yeah, I hear you know a thing or two about cars.” Dean grinned maliciously.
Sam raised one eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest, and Maggie coughed, nearly choking on her soda. Why had she told Dean about Sam’s past? She’d never dreamed he would bring it up like this. And besides, what happened hadn’t been Sam’s fault. He was with a group of friends at a party; they’d had too much to drink, someone had stolen a car and they’d taken it for a joyride. Sam hadn’t been the one driving, but in the end they’d left him holding the bag. He’d been arrested. Maggie knew that was one of the lowest points of Sam’s life. And he’d worked so hard to turn things around since then, now running a successful furniture-restoration company that he’d built from the ground up. She couldn’t believe Dean had taken this opportunity to throw Sam’s past in his face. She’d told him that in confidence.
Sam nodded as if accepting a challenge. “Okay, man. I see how it is.”
When the check came, Maggie was relieved. The night hadn’t gone at all as she’d hoped. Sam and Dean could barely stand to look at each other.
Both men reached for the check at the same time.
“I’ve got it,” Sam said, standing and sliding his wallet from his pocket.
Dean’s lips curled. “I can pay for dinner formygirl.”
“Didn’t say you couldn’t, man,” Sam replied breezily, tossing more than his share of cash onto the table. “I think it’s time I get going.”
“Good idea,” Dean snarled. He turned to Maggie. “I’m going to go settle up at the bar.”
Sam watched Dean walk away and then his eyes fell on Maggie. “Mags, are you sure about this guy?”
“Listen, Dean was out of line with that car comment. He never should have brought that up, but—”
Sam huffed.
“I think he’s just intimidated by you. He’s not usually like this.”
“If you say so.” Sam’s gaze drifted to the back of Dean’s head. “It’s just…I don’t know. There’s something off about him. Something I don’t trust.”
