Protect Me (The Protector Series Book 1) Page 3

  “Is this a joke? You do know it won’t hurt your sister to wait inside a coffee shop for ten minutes, right? Some things can’t be put off and it causes me to run late occasionally. C’mon, Shi.” She goes from sounding like an irritated bitch to a whiny brat in no time flat.

  “My sister should be one of those things that can’t be put off, Lacey. My mind is made up. Goodbye.”

  I hang up before she can argue.

  “Shi, how will you do your thing at night? I can’t stay by myself all night long,” Macie mutters.

  “I’m not going to leave you here by yourself, Mace. We will find someone else to hang out with you soon enough. Until then, I’ll stay with you. Don’t worry about anything, okay?”

  She nods and gives me a quick hug before going to her room to do her homework.

  I fall back onto the couch with a sigh. I’ve had enough of Lacey over the last year. Good riddance. But how will I keep an eye on the girl at the park—or anyone else—if I have to stay at home with Macie? I have to find another sitter. Soon.

  I let Macie help me make spaghetti for supper and we play a game of Monopoly after.

  “You know I let you win, right?” I tease Macie.

  “Keep telling yourself that, Shi. I’m the best Monopoly player around,” she sasses.

  “Fine, how about a rematch tomorrow night?”

  “I’ll be here,” she says with a sharp nod of her head.

  “You’re on. Now, go get in the shower and I’ll let you watch a movie before bed.”

  She smiles wide before skipping down the hall to the bathroom. When I hear the water running, I go to my room and lock the door. I open the window to let some fresh air in because it used to help back when my dad would only let me out three nights a week. I take four deep breaths and glance at the moon before closing my eyes. Several seconds pass…I only see the backs of my eyelids, feeling nothing. I’ve done this before, years ago, so I’m not going to give up easily. I squeeze my eyes tighter and take another deep breath. She is hazy at first, but her face gets clearer with every passing second. Her eyes are closed and I can feel her breathing steadily. I relax a little knowing she is asleep on the bench, that she’s made it another day—another day with nothing and no one.

  I should clear my mind and open myself to others, but I can’t stop feeling her breath. My skin gets goose bumps and I realize I am sniffing my nose. She’s cold. It isn’t any colder tonight than it has been the last few nights, but I’ve had no reason to let myself feel her while I was sitting right next to her. I open my eyes and smack my palm to my forehead.

  “Mace! Grab your coat! We’re going to the park!” I yell across the house as I slip into my own coat and grab a blanket from the top of my closet.

  “The park? It’s nine o’clock. Why would we go to the park?”

  “Do me a favor and just roll with it, okay?”

  “All right,” she says, eyeing me curiously.

  I wait impatiently for her to ask another question, but to my surprise, she shrugs and walks out the door. I breathe a sigh of relief as I follow her to the truck.

  A light mist has started falling by the time we pull up to the park. Macie opens her door, ready to jump out before I stop her.

  “Mace, if you don’t mind waiting in the truck, I’ll only be gone for a second.”

  She raises an eyebrow at me as she scoots back into her seat and pulls the door closed. I wink at her; she folds her arms over her chest and grumbles. I can’t help but chuckle to myself as I shut the truck door. Macie can be such a brat at times, but we are closer than most siblings.

  Mom wasn’t around much for either of us. Dad always said she was a “wildflower” and not to take it personally, but now I know that was just an excuse he made for her. Truth was, she didn’t want us. I’m shocked she stayed around long enough to have Macie in the first place. Thank God she did, though. When Dad died in that plane crash two years ago, we got each other through it. There’s no way I would have pushed myself to move on if it hadn’t been for her. I’ve promised her thousands of times that I will make sure she has the life she deserves to have, and that is a promise I don’t intend on breaking, no matter how irritating she can be.

  I glance back at Macie one last time before my truck is out of sight; she is still pouting, but at least she is staying in the truck. I don’t want to wake the girl on the bench, and I know if Macie saw her she’d immediately wake her up and invite her to our apartment and beg her to bake cookies with her every day after school, hence Macie waiting in the truck.

  The park bench comes into view and I see her lying there, curled into a ball, sleeping. I quickly unfold the blanket and gently lay it on top of her. She doesn’t even budge when my fingertips graze her shoulder. It makes me angry that she is sleeping so deeply out here by herself. How can she be so trusting and so fearless?

  I pause before walking back to the truck and consider letting myself feel her again, but I know I shouldn’t. Dad warned me countless times about doing it while being so close to the other person. Everything intensifies. I decide the girl on the bench is already intense enough and jog back to the truck.

  “Bubba, you’d better find a babysitter for me fast, because I am not sitting in the truck all night while you get to hang out at the park,” Macie says as soon as I open the door.

  “I’m on it, Mace. Let’s go home and get you ready for bed.”

  I lie down with Macie and listen to her read some of her library book out loud. When she starts yawning after every other word, I tell her it is time for lights out and tuck her in. As I am pulling her door closed, I hear her saying her prayers; I stand in the hall and listen to her pray for someone named Nat, probably a new girl at her school or something. Macie is always praying for people; that’s something she and Dad did together every night. I, on the other hand, stopped praying for anyone but Macie when I was sixteen. I don’t pray to keep people safe; I just do it. I keep them safe.

  I’m not taking all the credit. Obviously I didn’t do some sort of magic trick when I was younger that gave myself the ability to sense danger and to usually prevent it. My grandpa was the same way and he helped my dad when he came of age, who in turn helped me. When I was younger, I thought it was so cool that I could help people. The first time I actually sensed what was happening to someone else, I felt like a superhero. Over the years, I’ve come to realize it is not as cool as I thought or hoped it would be. Sometimes it just feels like a burden.

  I can be sitting at the dinner table with Macie and suddenly be taken over by excruciating pain because the man on the fourth floor of our building has broken his girlfriend’s ribs for the hundredth time. I can be trying to catch up on my sleep and am jolted awake because Macie burns her finger on the toaster. If it’s close enough to me, I can feel it. I can’t turn it off, and sometimes it sucks and I hate it, but then I’m able to prevent things like last night at the park and I know I wouldn’t turn it off even if I found a way.

  Nat

  My first week at Aunt J’s is great. Marty makes sure I am getting the hang of things and answers whatever questions I have, plus I make over seventy dollars in tips. I usually work 7am to 4pm and Marty works the last three hours by himself. Today, Marty asks if I can stay until closing time so he can get caught up on some paperwork. I don’t have anywhere else to be and every hour I work gets me closer to saying “adios” to my bed in the park, so I tell him I’d be happy to help him out. It’s almost 6pm when I hear the door chime, letting me know a customer just walked in. I put away the rag I was using to wipe off the tables in the back and start making my way behind the counter.

  “Hiya, Nat,” a cheery voice says. I look up to see Macie standing just inside the doorway with her hands in her coat pockets. Her nose is red from the cold wind, but at least she is wearing a toboggan.

  “Hi, Macie. What are you up to?”

  She removes her hat and coat and sets them on a table before walking over and resting her elbows on the counter ac
ross from me. “Oh, my brother is meeting with some girl across the street. He’s trying to find me a new babysitter, but I didn’t like her so I walked over here.”

  “Your brother does know you’re over here, right?” I question.

  “Not yet, but he will. I brought a dollar so I could get another hot cocoa,” she says excitedly.

  “Well, you’re in luck, because I was just getting ready to make some hot cocoa for myself, too. It’s even on sale for a dollar today,” I say with a wink.

  I top off both of our drinks with marshmallows before carrying them to a booth. Macie’s eyes light up when I sit down and motion for her to take the seat across from me.

  “You came just in time for my break,” I explain, and she nods before taking a small sip of her cocoa. “So, why are you getting a new babysitter? What happened to the one with the red car?”

  “Oh, that was Lacey. My brother won’t let her pick me up any more. He says she thinks her boyfriend is more important than me. I didn’t like her much anyway.”

  It’s my turn to nod while I take a drink. “Do you have a boyfriend, Nat?” she asks me.

  I choke on my cocoa and sputter a bit before shaking my head back and forth quickly.

  “Why not?”

  “Well, I don’t really want a boyfriend right now. Maybe in a few years,” I tell her.

  “You could be my babysitter; wouldn’t that be cool? You don’t have a boyfriend and I like to hang out with you, so there shouldn’t be a problem. I bet Shi will like you, too. Just let me go get him.” She is out of the booth and jerking the door open before I can stop her. I groan as I run outside behind her.

  “Macie, you have to get your coat!” I call, but she is already crossing the street. She turns and waves at me before going into the building I assume her brother is waiting in. I shake my head and laugh as I go back inside.

  “What was that about?” Marty asks. He is standing behind the counter emptying the register.

  “That little girl wants me to be her babysitter. She got so excited she ran out of here without her coat and hat. I’m guessing she’ll be back soon to get them.”

  He grins at my explanation. “I’ll let you lock up then. I’m going to get out of here, if you don’t mind,” he says as he hands me a key.

  “Not at all. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I am wiping down the front counter when the door chimes, announcing the arrival of Macie and her brother. I glance up and can practically feel all the color drain from my face. Shiloh’s reaction is similar to mine, but his eyes double in size as well.

  “You’re Nat?” he asks in a surprised tone.

  “And you’re obviously Macie’s brother,” I say with a nod.

  “Bubba, this is my friend I told you about. Nat, this is my big brother, Shiloh,” Macie tells him, oblivious to the fact that we recognize each other.

  “You have a job?” he asks while raising his eyebrows. I know why he sounds surprised: if I have a job, why the hell am I sleeping on a bench every night? But just because I understand the shocked tone in his voice doesn’t mean it doesn’t piss me off.

  “Yes, I have a job,” I clip.

  “Do you want another one?” Macie asks in her excited voice.

  “Macie, why don’t you go sit over there and let us talk for a sec?” Shiloh suggests. Macie hangs her head for a second, but she perks up when she sees her cup of hot cocoa sitting in the same place she left it.

  After making sure she sits with her back to us, Shiloh tilts his head toward the far side of the room. I take the hint, walk over to the table farthest from Macie, and sit down. He sits across from me and folds his arms across his chest while studying me. I am starting to feel uncomfortable when he finally speaks.

  “Your name is Nat, you have a job but not a bed, and you’ve convinced my little sister that you hung the moon. What else should I know about you?”

  “Your sister decided to like me all on her own. I haven’t bewitched her or anything. You know what I look like when I’m being choked to death and you’ve watched me sleep numerous times — ahem, creeper. I’d say that about covers the bases of getting to know me.” I shrug.

  “Right. Nice try, but if you want to start getting paid to hang out with Macie, I’ll need to know more,” he says with a smirk.

  “Like?”

  “Why are you homeless?” he asks quietly, almost sympathetically.

  “I have a home, but I hate it there. I dropped out of school and left. I’m never going back.”

  “Dropped out of school? How old are you? Are you even of age yet?” His eyes are bugging out of his head as he rattles off questions.

  “I turn eighteen in a few months,” I answer, rolling my eyes at him.

  He narrows his eyes at me and doesn’t respond.

  “What? I need a high school diploma to babysit a ten-year-old?” I huff.

  “She’s twelve; she’s just small for her age,” he mutters.

  I nod and decide I’ve said enough. I stand up and smooth my shirt as I say, “It’s after seven. I need to lock up and I’m sure both of you need to get home.”

  “Macie, get your coat on,” he says loud enough for her to hear. I’m watching her shrug into her coat and straighten her hat when Shiloh stands up.

  “Come over for dinner on Monday and we can talk about hours and pay—if you’re interested, that is.”

  I hesitate for a moment. Am I interested in babysitting? Before I finish that thought, I realize I am already nodding in agreement.

  Macie wraps her tiny arms around my waist before they both leave the coffee shop. I think about all the things we could do together as I walk to the park.

  I work late the rest of the week. Marty asks me several times if I’m sure I don’t mind closing and I tell him repeatedly that I want the extra hours. Extra hours mean extra money, and extra money means everything.

  Marty insists I take off early on Saturday, so I leave after the lunch rush to appease him. There is a light mist coming down while I walk down Main Street. I really don’t feel like sitting at the park all afternoon in this depressing weather, so I duck inside the thrift store and do a little shopping. I buy another pair of jeans and two tops. When I’m checking out, the lady running the register tucks a pair of earrings and a matching necklace into my bag. She winks at me as she gives me the total that I know only includes the three items I picked out. I know she feels sorry for me and even though I shouldn’t, I feel sorry for myself, too. Suddenly, the weather seems perfect and I can’t wait to sit on my bench and mope in it.

  My bench has never felt more uncomfortable than it does tonight. Eventually, I lie on the ground behind it. The dewy grass is even more uncomfortable, but I refuse to get back on that bench. I’m sick of living in a park and sleeping on that damn bench.

  I can’t stop thinking of the lady at the thrift shop; the look she gave me as she tucked that jewelry into my bag will be forever ingrained in my memory. I fold both arms over my eyes as the first tear falls down my cheek. I’m attempting to cry myself to sleep when I hear a familiar voice.

  “I’ve got a pizza in the car with your name on it,” Marty says.

  I sit up quickly and start wiping my face.

  “Come on, you and I need to have a talk,” he says as he rests his hand on my shoulder.

  I’m sniffling as I walk to his car with him. It’s a nice car, black on the outside with tan leather on the inside. He has the heated seats turned on and I relax easily against the warm leather. Marty shuts my door before jogging around the front of the car to his side. He grabs the box of pizza from the back seat and hands me a piece.

  “You eat while I talk. Deal?”

  I nod as I take the pizza from him. I want to be prideful and say no, to tell him that I don’t need food, that I can take care of myself, but I spent all afternoon wallowing in self-pity and am just not ready to suck it up yet.

  “I was going to lock the door this evening when I noticed a note taped to it. I
have no idea who left it for me, but I’m so glad they did. The note told me I would find you at the park, with little food and no shelter. I thought it was some sort of joke at first, but then I pulled your application and saw you’d left the address line blank. Nat, are you homeless?”

  I am shocked that he keeps eye contact with me the entire time he speaks. He never has a look of pity on his face, only concern. I can tell he is genuinely concerned about my well-being; I guess that’s why I don’t hesitate to tell him the truth. I explain my foster parents to him and make it clear that I won’t be going back to their house again.

  “Well then, I have a proposition for you. Would you like to hear it?” he asks with a straight face.

  I nod slowly as I try to predict what he is going to say. I come up empty.

  “I have an apartment for you to stay in. It’s nothing special, but it does have all the necessary furniture and things. I won’t take rent money from you, but this isn’t a hand out either. I want your word that you’ll help me out at Aunt J’s for at least a year. Once you’re on your feet, if you want to look elsewhere for employment, we can work out an arrangement for rent.”

  I’m almost positive my eyes are bulging out of my head. I swallow my bite of pizza and cover my mouth with my hand.

  “Is this real?” I whisper from behind my hand.

  Marty cracks a smile for the first time tonight and nods. “I’m sure you can take care of yourself, Nat; I just want to make it a little easier for you to get started. You know, set you up for success or whatever,” he says with a wink.

  I do what every other hopeless seventeen-year-old girl would do after finding out news like this: I fling my arms around his neck and burst into tears. He hugs me back and lets me cry for a moment. After I pull myself together, Marty goes back to the bench to collect the few things I own before driving me to the apartment.

  We pull into a parking lot in front of an apartment complex less than twenty minutes later. It is about four stories high and looks like it would never be in my price range.