Chapter 37

From inside the house, I heard the lawn mower running somewhere out back. To my relief, Joel had actually agreed to my terms, even if he didn't look too happy about it.

But I had a good reason for pushing the issue. We'd been spending a lot of time together, and in spite of my best intentions, I was falling for him in the scariest way.

How he felt, I couldn’t be sure. But I did know that both of us had been dodging our share of questions – me when it came to Derek, the estate, and everything associated with it.

As for Joel, he'd been dodging questions about two primary things – the fights and how he made his money. This led me to an ominous realization. Those two things were probably related.

In spite of my earlier assumptions, he didn't seem to be hurting for money. And yet, he didn't seem to have a regular job waiting for him anywhere.

True, I could say the same for myself. Over the past few months, I'd been living in limbo-land, with a seasonal part-time job – two jobs if I counted the lawn thing – and a college career that I'd been forced to put on hold.

When Joel had asked me about college, I'd given him the same vague answer that I always gave. "Oh that? I'm taking a year off."

Like I had a choice.

But if anything, Joel's answers had been even more vague than mine. When I'd asked him point-blank what Mike had meant about seeing Joel "slaughter" someone at State, he'd replied with something along the lines of, "Eh, the guy didn't know what he was talking about."

What did that even mean? That Mike had mistaken Joel for someone else? That it wasn't a slaughter, so much as a maiming? Or that the altercation didn't qualify as a real fight?

I had no idea. But soon, I'd be finding out.

While he mowed the yard, I ran through the house, dusting the furniture and running a mop over the floors. It wasn't only that it gave me something to do. It was the fact that I didn't want added trouble if Derek's dad popped in for a spot inspection.

The way Derek had talked, that was a distinct possibility, and there was no way on Earth I wanted to get caught in any kind of violation.

The cleaning itself wasn't a hardship. I mean, I didn’t mind cleaning my own place. But I hated the thought of doing it just because it was a condition of me living here – like some kind of temporary tenant, squatting in the guestroom until the real owner showed up.

I was the real owner – or at least, I would be, in four more years, assuming I could hold on that long.

I was just finishing the kitchen floors when I heard that dreaded sound, the doorbell echoing through the house. Fearing the worst – that it might be Derek's dad, coming to check up on me – I set the mop aside and rushed to the front door.

But when I flung it open, it wasn't Derek's dad. It was Derek himself. With barely a hello, he demanded, "What the hell is he doing here?"

Oh, crap. Maybe I'd been dreading the wrong person. But in my defense, I hadn't considered that Derek might stop by twice within such a short timeframe.

From the open doorway, I scanned the front yard. I didn't see Joel, but I could hear the lawnmower running smoothly out back.

Stalling for time, I said, "What do you mean?"

"As if you don't know." Derek made a sound of disgust. "What? You're farming out your work now?"

God, what an ass. I was so tired of being on defense all the time. "It's getting mowed. What do you care?"

"That wasn't the agreement."

I gave him an irritated look. "So that's why you came back? To make sure I was mowing the lawn myself?"

"No. I came with news about your car, not that you seem to appreciate it."

Obviously, he meant my mom's car, which was still being repaired.

"Fine," I said. "Is it done?"

"Hardly. You're looking at some major repairs."

I felt my eyebrows furrow. That couldn’t be right. At the campground, Joel had said it was nothing big. I tried to recall what, specifically, the car needed. A new distributor cap or something?

My stomach churned with dread. "How major?"

"Worst-case scenario? A new engine."

I stared at him. That couldn't be right. Could it? My gaze narrowed. "Where's the car now?"

"What does it matter? It's not like you can drive it."

"I don't care. I want to know."

He stared at me for a long, tense moment before saying, "What’s up with you, anyway?"

Well, that was rich. "What's up with me?" I gave a bark of laughter. "You're the one who's been a total jackass all summer."

Derek's mouth tightened. "What?"

This time, I wasn't going to back down. "You heard me."

"Alright. You really wanna know?" Derek took a slow, deliberate look around. "I show up here, to do you a favor, and I see that asshole out back, wearing no fucking shirt, like he owns the place."

I glanced toward the driveway. I couldn’t help but notice that Derek's car was parked out front, right behind Joel's. And I also couldn’t help but notice that Joel was out of sight, unless Derek had gone looking for him.

I crossed my arms. "Oh yeah? And how, exactly, did you see him?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean he's not out front. So what'd you do? Skulk around the yard until you found him?"

"I don't need to skulk. This is part of my job."

"Sure it is."

"So, what is it?" Derek said. "Is he living here now?"

Right. Because I'd always been the kind of girl who invited random guys to shack up with me after knowing them for only a few days.

But I was in no mood to reassure him. "If he is, so what?"

"So, you'd be in violation of the terms."

"Of what? The estate?" I made a scoffing sound. "You're so full of it."

"You sure about that?"

Actually, I wasn't. But lately, I wasn't sure about a lot of things, especially when it came to the estate. Until a few months ago, I hadn't realized there were problems. Now, everything was a problem.

And Derek wasn't helping. I lifted my chin. "If you want to stop me, get a lawyer."

His jaw tightened. "As I keep reminding you, I am your lawyer."

"Yeah? Then why don't you act like it?"

"I am. Right now, in fact."

"Oh come on, Derek. You're not working for me. You're working against me."

"Is that so?" He shook his head. "Have you ever stopped to think that maybe, we're trying to look out for you?"

I gave a bitter laugh. "Or maybe you're looking out for yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I wasn't sure what I meant. But something was definitely off. I needed the chance to think. And besides, this wasn't the time to be discussing it.

Within the last minute or so, it had slowly dawned on me that I no longer heard the mower running, which meant that our argument could be interrupted at any moment.

Looking to end this now, I said, "Next time, save yourself a trip. Just give me the bad news over the phone." And with that, I took a long step backward, reached for the side of the door, and gave it a good strong swing.

It was supposed to slam shut. It didn't, thanks to Derek's foot, which stopped the door in mid-motion. He demanded, "What the hell is your problem?"

"At the moment? You're my problem. Now, get your foot out of my doorway."

"Your doorway, huh?"

"Yes. My doorway. I live here. Not you." I glanced at his foot. "So are you gonna move that or not?"

"Oh, I'll move it. But first, I've got a question."

I made a sound of annoyance. "What?"

"What are you gonna pay him with?"

"Who?"

"The asshole mowing your lawn." Derek gave me a smug smile. "Because I can tell you one thing. We're not paying you for that."

My stomach clenched. Stupidly, I said, "For what?"

"For this week's lawn care. Do I need to remind you? The maintenance contract is non-transferrable, which means that if you hire it out, you don't get paid."

I wanted to scream in frustration. But I didn't. Instead, hoping to call his bluff, I gave him a smug smile right back. "Nice try. But I didn't 'hire' him to do it. He's doing it as a favor."

"A favor, huh? So what are you paying him with?" His lips formed a smirk. "Pussy?"

My skin flashed hot, and then just as quickly, turned ice-cold. The comment was so wrong – and so completely unlike the guy I'd grown up with – that I didn't know how to respond, unless I wanted to slap him silly, which was seriously tempting.

But then, a new voice – Joel's voice – sounded from somewhere nearby. "Speaking of pussy…"

Derek gave a little jump and turned toward the sound. A moment later, I spotted Joel, walking from around the side of the house. He wore no shirt, and was covered in a thin sheen of perspiration.

If this whole scene weren't so awful, I might've spent more time dwelling on the fact that he looked like every girl's fantasy – or maybe just my fantasy, last night, in fact.

His thick, dark hair was slightly damp, and the muscles of his shoulders and stomach looked even more defined than they had in my dreams. I felt myself swallow as I tried to focus on what was really important – the fact that this was a powder-keg waiting to explode.

Derek turned to glare at Joel. "Are you talking to me?"

Joel stepped closer. "You see any other pussies around here?"

"No. But I see an asshole."

I spoke up. "Derek, seriously. You need to go, like now."

"Fine." He turned and gave me a stiff smile. "And you're welcome, by the way."

And you're not.

But I didn't say it, because I wanted him gone already.

Finally, I got my wish. Derek turned and stalked to his car. He yanked open the driver's side door, got behind the wheel, and slammed the door behind him.

A moment later, I watched in silent mortification as his car squealed in reverse, did a sloppy U-turn, and then roared down the long driveway, leaving an ominous silence in its wake.

I turned my nervous gaze to Joel.

He was still there, but he didn't look happy.