“I’m not.” It would have annoyed me plenty if he’d just caused Lena to miss a few assignments here and there. If she forgot to study or dropped an after-school commitment. I would have been irritated, but I would have gotten over it. I never expected her to be perfect.
But this was different. This…was scary.
“After spending all week playing Russian roulette rodeo with the wild horses on the farm they all volunteered at, Jovi’s idea of a fun Friday night involved trying to get arrested for hosting rave-like parties in the neighboring cornfields. With booze. That he stole from his parents’ bar. And served to minors. For money.”
Holly’s face is slowly starting to morph into one I find more appropriate when discussing Jovi. A mixture of disbelief and horror laced with a distinct level of aggravation because no one should be that stupid. Or that irresponsible.
“When he only got probation for those, he took things to the next level and set up a fight cage. Usually, he was the one to beat.” I pause for a moment while Holly lets it sink in. Then I add. “And did I mention the gambling? Because there’s no point in having an illegal back field fight club if people aren’t placing bets on the whole violent extravaganza.”
“And your sister and her boyfriend…they were cool with all of this?” Holly’s face keeps twitching now like she’s uncomfortably aware of how misplaced her interest in his level of hotness was.
“No.” They definitely weren’t cool with it. “But I think they felt responsible for him. All three of them were wildly protective of each other. So, they always went along. Always did the best they could to stop him from pushing it too far. Sometimes it worked.”
But plenty of times it didn’t.
“Wasn’t until Lena was thrown from a boat and came close to drowning on a midnight race across the lake in the pitch black, both boats pulling idiots on wakeboards, that Jovi finally calmed down a bit.” Lena was sixteen then. I’d been set to leave for college that summer. I almost didn’t go.
“Wow.”
“Yep.” I stretch out my fingers to keep from twisting my fists back and forth over the steering wheel. My palms are already red. “For a while, his asinine ideas were limited to the horses he rode and the crazy fucking girls he dated. And I do mean crazy. There were a few in the bunch that made me wish he’d bring back the fighting cages.” Half of them went batshit psycho fighting over him anyway.
Holly lets out a snort. “Oh, lord.” She buries her face in her palms, shaking her head while she lets out a sort of groan-like squeal.
Lingering memories have me torn between a smirk and a scowl. Then, the worst of them all surfaces and my mouth grows tight. My chest along with it.
“Then, two years later, while I was home for the summer, he decided to take his skateboard across our roof one night. And we had a three-story house. The old rectangular sort. With no dips in the roof and a sharp drop-off at the edge.”
He made it up and down that slant countless times, always stopping inches short of the gutter. Until he didn’t. And I wound up in the emergency room at twenty, trying to make medical decisions for an unconscious asshole. One with a broken collar bone, half a shattered rib cage complete with fragments of bone coming out of his skin. An ass with a smashed knee, possible brain damage and multiple organs bleeding internally. And I was the one left to decide his fate.
All because his parents couldn’t be reached and somehow people never did fail to see me as a responsible adult even when I barely was one.
“It didn’t end well. He was in the hospital for three weeks, and Lena had nightmares for months after.” She’d seen the whole thing. So had Trent.
They’d both promised to rein Jovi in after that.
When I turn to glance at Holly, her eyes are wide and her mouth is agape. “Tell me he’s at least grown up a bit since then. I mean, he can’t still be that reckless if your sister and her husband left their business in his hands hoping he’d keep it profitable and supporting their children, right?”
I sigh, all the tension sweeping out of my hands and landing like a brick in the pit of my stomach. “Truthfully? I have no idea who he is now. In the last ten years he's turned his father’s three bars into seven, four of them complete with concert venues. So he must have some level of latent responsibility. And he’s always shown up for my sister and Trent without fail. Whatever he lacks in sense, the guy more than makes up for in loyalty.” I shrug. “Hopefully, that will be enough.”
JOVI
It's been two days since I cleared out Trent's office. I spent all of yesterday painting the place, hoping a night of airing it out would be enough to clear the paint fumes before moving my things in today. I was right. More or less.
When I come out of the barn, the sun has traveled from one side of the property to the other and started making her descent behind the trees. After dedicating a good chunk of my afternoon to making the small space as comfortable as I can, I'm finally getting around to taking Trent's tray of abandoned mugs back up to the house.
I avoided checking in with Liz the last few days. I didn’t want to know when she was on the road. So I’m caught off guard to seeher beat-up old Honda sitting parked outside as I approach the house.
I don’t know which part I find most unsettling. The fact she still drives that old piece of shit, and it still managed to get her here, or that she’s here at all.
“So, you’re the hot disaster Liz is being forced to partner with for the next year,” an unfamiliar voice calls out to me from my right. When I turn my head, the body attached to it is quite the contrast.
Where her vocals are big and booming, this woman is tiny and downright fragile looking. Everything about her is delicate and pristine, from her soft blonde curls to her lavender nails ending in points and adorned with gemstones.
Heels like toothpicks that look like they ought to break out from under her, click over the ground as she marches toward me. Her fancy shoes stomp into the gravel driveway with every determined step.
I suppress a laugh at the sight. Then I remember what she said. “I’m the disaster? I’m sorry, have you met Liz?”
The tiny woman puffs herself up in front of me as if she could somehow inflate enough to be intimidating. She can’t. “I happen to be her best friend. And after all the stories I heard about you on the drive down here, I’m pretty sure you’re the disaster in this bizarre twosome.” She tilts her head to peer up at me and smirks. “A damn fine one, but a disaster nonetheless.”
