Page 36 of Anger Banger

He reaches for a similar coffee drink, and a pack of donuts. “Good idea. A blizzard is no excuse not to bring your girl a snack. Maren doesn’t like vanilla, though. Better go for chocolate.”

He grins at the surprise on my face. Maren said that she doesn’t care who finds out that we’re sleeping together but it’s only been a day. Has she already spread the word? It doesn’t seem like her. “If she heard you refer to her as my girl, you’d probably end up buried in a snowdrift somewhere.”

“No doubt. You’re into her, though?” he asks, as I switch the coffee to a mocha.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that it’s just sex, but it wouldn’t be true. Maybe that’s all she wants, but the more I’m around her lately, the more I want to be. It’s not what Dylan thinks, that I have some kink about mean women. She isn’t mean, not really. I’ve had plenty of experience with truly hateful people and she’s nothing like that, just the opposite. She’s always there for people and ready to help, even if it doesn’t benefit her. If there’s one thing that I value in someone, it’s selflessness, kindness to people who can do nothing for you in return. But damn, she can also fuck every bit as good as she boasted.

“I am, but she’s pretty set on despising me.”

We pay for our stuff and head outside to load our purchases onto the two sleds. “Cara and I couldn’t stand each other at first, either. Maren helped me fix things with her last year after a misunderstanding. Now we’re moving in together. You never know.”

In the hour it takes us to get to the store and back, the whole neighborhood seems to have come alive and joined in. Plenty of people are utilizing the community building but a get together has started outdoors too. A group of kids work on building a snowman and someone has dug out the area between the office and building where the snow wasn’t as deep and started a fire in a portable firepit. The area is ringed by coolers. Row adds the soft drinks and beer we bought, while I hand over the meat to Ronnie and the other two guys who are working the grills.

A plow goes by for the second time, leaving the road a little more passable but with a packed snow surface. Maren stands by the firepit with Cara and Lila. She glances over at me when I join them. “Pops talked to the electric company. It’s only our neighborhood and one other that’s still blacked out. They expect to have the power back on by late tonight or early tomorrow morning.”

“That’s not too bad.” She nods and sips from the thermal cup clasped in her hands. “What are you drinking?”

“Tea.”

She doesn’t resist when I pluck the cup out of her hand and take a sip. The same time the hot, very spiked liquid hits my tongue, she adds, “And a splash of rum.”

“A splash? You could light that on fire.” Cara and Lila wear matching smiles as I hold the drink out to Maren. “I know a better way to warm you up.”

“Shut up before I light you on fire.” Her tone doesn’t match her words. Whether it’s the alcohol or she’s just in a good mood, the little tilt of her lips gives her away.

All our heads turn to watch a large truck come up the street. It’s the first I’ve seen in the neighborhood today. A group of teenagers pour out of the trailer a few doors down and run out to talk to the driver.

“What are they up to?” Lila asks.

Two of them circle the truck and grab onto the back bumper, bracing their feet against the snow packed street. Hoots and cheers fill the air from them and the other kids watching as the truck takes off and they hang on. You’ve got to be kidding me.

The truck circles the block and returns with one of the kids hanging on by one hand, being dragged through the snow while he laughs his head off as the truck slows. The other kid runs up the road to catch up but before he can grab ahold again, Maren’s voice cuts across the air. “If I see one of you grab that bumper again, I’m going to beat your asses until your mama can’t recognize you. Who’s driving?”

Jarrett, the single dad I’ve only spoken to once or twice, starts across the yard. His son, Evan, is one of the crowd cheering them on. “Those are Harry Dealey’s boys. I’ll handle it,” he says, and heads out to the road. “Park that truck before you get one of these dumbasses squished under your tires and end up in prison instead of college!”

Maren grins over at Lila. “I hate to stop them when we did the same thing but all it takes is one hard brake.”

“Or a sharp turn?” Cara adds, and Maren flips her off.

“We didn’t do it. Your wild ass did,” Lila adds. “We had more sense.”

“You let yourself be dragged behind a truck?” I ask.

Maren shrugs and sips her drink. “It’s called bumper sliding. Everyone used to do it. I was fourteen. It was stupid but it was fun.”

Cara puffs on a joint, then hands it to me. “Until she broke her arm when Joey Hatcher took a corner too fast. She flew off and smashed into the back of a shed.”

“I thought Pops was going to kill him,” Maren chuckles. “And I was barely allowed to leave the house until summer.”

It sounds like Maren was the wild one of her group when she was younger. I’m not surprised. She doesn’t seem to be afraid of much.

The more I learn about her, the more I want to know.

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

MAREN

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