Murdered at 17 Read online

  “I think I just found my new favorite drink,” she said, setting her glass down gently.

  “You have expensive taste,” Jake laughed. “But that’s okay. So do I.” Brooke felt herself smiling. Everything she learned about this guy made him more intriguing.

  “So,” he said and looked her straight in the eye, “why don’t you tell me what happened between you and your friend? I thought you were about to break out the boxing gloves.”

  The high Brooke was feeling until that moment started to dive. She didn’t want to get into the whole IED thing.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I have time,” he said with a wink. “That is, unless you don’t want to tell me.”

  “Really, it was nothing. Stupid.”

  “Did she sleep with your boyfriend?” he asked.

  “No. I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  “Wreck your car?”

  “No.” Was he going to keep going until he guessed? This could take days.

  “Is she your girlfriend?”

  Brooke laughed. “No. We’re both straight. She’s been my best friend forever. It’s too stupid to even talk about. Let’s find a new subject.”

  “I have to know,” he said. “I’d hate to make the same mistake she did.”

  “Fine,” Brooke gave in, hoping that if she gave him just enough details to satisfy his curiosity, they could move on. “Her ex texted me. I have no idea why. She saw it and accused me of trying to get with him behind her back, but I’m not.”

  “You really don’t like to be accused of things you didn’t do,” Jake teased.

  “Nope.”

  “If she’s your best friend, why would she accuse you of that? She obviously doesn’t trust you.”

  Brooke twisted a lock of hair trying to find a way to explain Maddie’s state of mind and said, “He’s messed with her head so much, she’s jealous and distrustful of everyone lately. He’s really manipulative. I hate him.”

  “So maybe you should kick his ass instead of hers,” he said and raised an eyebrow. A pang of guilt cut through Brooke. He was right. She’d completely overreacted and been a bitch to Mads when she should’ve kept her cool. Maddie must’ve felt devastated when she saw that text.

  Knowing the only way to avoid looking petty or like a drama queen was to tell him the truth, she slowly began to explain. “There’s more to it. It’s . . . I have this condition that I take pills for and they’re still trying to get the dosage right.”

  “Does this condition have a name?” She must have made a face, betraying her reluctance to talk about it because he quickly said, “That’s okay. If you really don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. Whatever it is, it’s not going to make me like you any less.” Brooke was surprised he added that last part. It was a roundabout way of admitting he liked her, but it made her feel safe.

  “It’s called intermittent explosive disorder. IED. I go into these rages and I can’t help it.”

  Joking, Jake made a point of slowly sliding their champagne glasses out of her reach.

  “It’s not funny,” she said, even though she had to force herself not to smile.

  “So you have a temper. Big deal. So do I.”

  “It’s more than a temper,” she clarified. “I go really crazy and I don’t even know what I’m saying. The words just pour out and I break things and it can be really bad. Earlier this week I literally destroyed a chair in my room. Like, kicked it and smashed it until it was a pile of wood.”

  “Have you always had it?” Jake asked. He sounded curious, but also like he cared about her.

  “No. It started last year after I had a cheerleading accident. I hit my head really hard.” She waited for the look of pity that usually came after saying those words, but Jake just listened.

  “My brain doesn’t produce enough serotonin. It’s a chemical that—”

  “I know what it does. It regulates impulses.”

  Brooke paused, surprised. “Yeah. How did you know that?”

  “I’m smarter than I look,” he said with a grin. “So it affects your behavior I take it.”

  “Yeah. I have a low tolerance for frustration, feelings of rage, and outbursts of physical and verbal aggression.” I sound like one of those freaking pharmaceutical commercials, Brooke thought.

  “Isn’t IED common in teenagers, though?” Jake asked, casually taking a sip of his drink.

  A sense of relief came over Brooke. She couldn’t believe he knew so much about it. How did he know so much about it?

  “Uh, well, uh, yes,” Brooke stammered, impressed. “But they think the trauma caused it in my case. That my frontal lobe was damaged.”

  “So what are they doing for you?” Again, no judgment. Just a simple question, no different than if he’d asked directions to the zoo.

  “I see a therapist,” Brooke sighed. Telling people she was seeing a shrink was even more humiliating than telling them she’d fallen during a simple basket toss and had cracked her head open. She’d always been the best cheerleader on the squad, not the kind that over-rotates and falls. I can’t believe I’m telling him all this, she thought. Here was this incredibly hot guy sitting in front of her and she was probably ruining any chance she had with him by admitting she was damaged goods. But it was all coming out and it should’ve felt weird but it didn’t. “And I take medication.”

  “Mood stabilizers I assume.”

  “Exactly,” she said, another wave of relief washing over her. “Which I’m not supposed to drink alcohol with.” She held up her glass of champagne and took another sip.

  “Neither one of us is supposed to drink alcohol. We’re not even twenty-one.” With a rebellious smirk, Jake grabbed the bottle and refilled both their glasses. “You can get as mad as you want. Your disorder doesn’t scare me.”

  “You haven’t seen me at my worst.”

  “I’m sure I could handle it. I’m pretty much the same way. I fly off the handle sometimes and say some fairly nasty things. It’s like I know the exact words that will just cut right through a person and that’s where I go.”

  “You and I are a lot alike,” she mused, feeling more comfortable with him by the moment.

  “I agree.”

  “You realize we sound like a couple of assholes right now. Talking about how we flip out on people for no reason.”

  Jake chuckled. “Just to those who don’t know us. I get the sense you can be very sweet too.”

  Brooke felt her heart swell at the compliment. She’d spent so much time feeling angry and guilty and trying to make it up to people she’d fought with that she’d almost forgot she could be sweet. Rarely did people see that side of her lately, but somehow, Jake did. It brought a tear to her eye, but she quickly blinked it back before he could see it.

  “Sometimes,” she said, hoping she’d have the chance to show him just how sweet she really could be.

  Two hours later, Jake settled his tab with the bartender and walked Brooke out to the valet stand. He handed the valet his ticket and they stood in silence for a moment.

  Brooke couldn’t believe how magical the night had been. She’d never met someone like him, someone who made her feel special and safe and excited all at the same time. She’d never felt that way before, not with anyone. She extended her arm and gently took his hand in hers. She could feel him look over at her, but she continued to gaze out at the streetlights and passing traffic. His warm hand squeezed hers back. Everything felt so perfect and right. They didn’t even need to exchange words. They were just in the moment, together.

  The valet came around the corner in a shiny, new Ferrari and cruised to a stop in front of them. Jake began to pull out his wallet to tip the valet. Brooke’s feet were cemented in place. She was stunned.

  “Seriously?! This is your car?” she asked. Jake just smiled.

  “Here you go. Keep the change.” He handed a folded bill to the valet. Then he turned to her. “Do you want to drive it?” Brooke’s heart leaped up in he
r chest.

  “Oh, helllllll no!” she laughed, sure she’d wreck it. Jake laughed too and opened the passenger door for her. As she got in she could smell a faint hint of his cologne.

  “What kind of music do you like?” Jake asked as he got into the car and started the engine.

  “How about something mellow?”

  “I have the perfect thing,” he said and twisted the knob on the console until a moody jazz arrangement began to play. It wasn’t the kind of music Brooke usually listened to, but she liked it. He turned up the volume, shifted into drive, and pulled out of the parking lot.

  Five

  Safe Sax

  Brooke leaned her head back in the plush leather seat and listened to the soothing saxophone emanating from the speakers. She looked out at the slowly passing landscape, in no hurry to get home. She felt so calm, so present. Was it the three glasses of champagne? Or the fact that she’d just met someone she connected with so deeply?

  “Where have you been?” she finally asked. He looked over at her.

  “Your whole life?” he asked back.

  “No, silly.” She could hear a slight slur in her words. It had to be from the champagne. “You said you traveled a lot. Where have you been?”

  Jake glanced over at her and smiled. “A lot of places. Japan, Thailand, England, France, Italy . . .”

  “Which one was your favorite?”

  “I can’t say. They’re all so different. I guess Monte Carlo maybe. I went to the Monaco Grand Prix and gambled in the casinos. There were three of us at the roulette table and none of us spoke the same language.” Brooke imagined a luxurious casino where all the men were in tuxedos and the women had perfectly coiffed hair and wore skintight designer dresses.

  “Where is it? Monte Carlo.” Brooke tried to picture it on a map but couldn’t.

  “Someone skipped geography class,” Jake teased. She grinned. “It’s right next to France. Well, inside it sort of. France borders three sides and the fourth side is the Mediterranean.”

  “I’ve seen pics of the Mediterranean. It looks beautiful,” she said and glanced back out the window. “I wish I could leave Philly.” Brooke had always loved living in the City of Brotherly Love, but lately she felt like there wasn’t anything left here for her. Sure the Liberty Bell and cheesesteaks were cool, but a part of her felt like she’d outgrown it. It was time for bigger and better things.

  “Where would you like to live?” he asked.

  She looked over at him and then lazily lolled her head to the side, thinking. She’d never really considered it before. She just knew she was sick of where she was and wished she were someplace else.

  “I don’t know. I like San Francisco.”

  It was the first city that came to mind. Brooke had been there once with her mother, so at least she had a reference point. She was only twelve when she went, but she remembered riding the trolley cars and walking along the wharf, looking at the chunky sea lions. “I haven’t really been that many places,” she added.

  “I’d never been out of Kansas until I left home. The company I sold my app to is in San Jose. That’s in California, not that far from San Francisco. Anyway, they wanted me to come out and meet with them and I’d never been on a plane before.”

  “You hadn’t?” Brooke was surprised. She couldn’t remember the first time she’d been on an airplane but she knew she was young. They used to fly to West Virginia every Christmas and Easter back when her grandfather was still alive and living there.

  “Not even inside an airport,” Jake continued. “I stepped inside with my suitcase and didn’t have any idea what to do. I didn’t know how to check in or go through security or anything.” Brooke smiled, amused by his story. She envisioned him standing in the middle of the walkway in a tight T-shirt and jacket, his carry-on by his feet, as he tried to make sense of the monitors. I’ll bet he was hot looking around at the signs, completely vulnerable, she thought. She certainly would’ve taken time to stop and help him even if it meant missing a flight.

  “What did you do?”

  “What I always do. Asked people until I figured it out.” Brooke liked his answer. He was so smart and resourceful. And she loved how the corners of his lips cinched up into a smile.

  “Do you go back to Kansas a lot?” she asked, hoping it wasn’t obvious she’d been staring.

  “Haven’t been back since I left.”

  That surprised her. When she moved away someday, she knew she’d miss her mom. As annoying as she was, she couldn’t imagine spending the holidays without her.

  “Really? Not even to see your family?”

  “They’re the reason I don’t go back.”

  Brooke wanted to know more about why he refused to visit his parents, but they were coming up on her street. “Turn right at the next stop sign,” she instructed.

  The car slowed as Jake stopped in front of her house. The lights were on inside. Her mother must still be up, she surmised. Don’t act tipsy. Her mom was good at figuring out when she was.

  “This is nice,” he said, leaning down to get a better view of her house. Brooke didn’t move to get out, not wanting the evening to end.

  “Thanks for the ride,” she finally said, turning to him. “And the champagne. And for convincing me to come out of the bathroom.”

  She laughed, poking fun at herself. Any embarrassment she felt earlier at him witnessing her meltdown was now gone. She felt undeniably comfortable. He chuckled.

  “This is the part where I’m supposed to ask you out on a real date, or risk not seeing you ever again.”

  “Was that you asking me, or just preparing to?” she teased.

  He repositioned himself in his seat so that he was looking straight at her and scratched his chin with his forefinger. Then he suppressed a smile in an attempt to get serious. “Can I take you out on a real date?” He paused. “How was that? Better?”

  My god, this boy is easy to look at, she thought. She’d be crazy to say no.

  “Much better. Give me your phone.” She extended her hand.

  Her gaze drifted down as Jake reached into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. As she added her name and number to his contacts, she could feel his gaze on her. It had drifted down her body as well.

  “Here,” she said, handing his phone back. Instead of taking it, he gently wrapped his strong hand around her wrist and pulled her closer. Leaning over the console, with the bluesy bent notes of a trumpet playing in the background, she closed her eyes and felt his feathery kiss on her lips. Electricity exploded through her, starting in her stomach and shooting all the way up her spine. She parted her lips, letting his tongue flick between them, pressing deeper. Interlocking her fingers with his, Brooke opened her mouth slightly and let him push his tongue all the way in.

  Brooke felt a warm sensation low and deep, and when they parted, the fiery tingle was still there. He smiled and took his phone. “I’ll text you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said and inhaled deeply. She didn’t want to get out of his car. She wanted to kiss him again. To sit there until dawn, talking and kissing, and listening to jazz. But she knew she needed to go in. Forcing herself to reach for the door handle, she was surprised when Jake stopped her.

  “Wait a sec,” he said quickly, as if he’d forgotten something, and got out. Hurrying around to her side of the car, he opened the door. When she got out, their faces were inches apart and she hoped he would kiss her again, but he didn’t.

  “Good night, Brooke.” His eyes peered into hers, soft and languid.

  “G’night,” she murmured and stepped past him, her hip brushing against his. It sent another surge of desire through her.

  Feeling as if she were levitating over the pavers, Brooke took her time walking up the stone path to her front door. She glanced back at Jake as he settled into the driver’s seat once again. Had he smiled at her? It was too dark to see through his tinted windows. She gave an unassuming wave, and as she turned the kno
b to go inside, she could hear the roar of Jake’s engine as he drove off.

  “Who was that guy?” her mother asked as she came around the corner from the living room to the foyer. The happiness she’d felt only seconds before was replaced by irritation. Tense Brooke was back.

  “Were you spying on me?”

  “I wasn’t spying on you, Brooke. I heard his car. What’s his name? Why didn’t Maddie bring you home?”

  Always so many questions. It bugged the shit out of her. The last thing Brooke wanted was to explain to her mother how she’d accosted Maddie in the middle of the bar and then spent the rest of the evening drinking with a mysterious stranger. There was no way that would go over well, so she decided to lie.

  “Maddie needed to leave early. The plan was to come home with Keisha but she asked her friend to drop me off instead.” Brooke slipped out of her jacket as she spoke and opened the closet door to avoid eye contact. When she turned back around, she was met with a blank stare.

  “So that guy with the Ferrari is Keisha’s friend?”

  Brooke could tell her mother wasn’t buying it. She’d have to do better. Her mother thrived on details, so the more she could give, the better the chance she’d believe her.

  “Yeah. Jake. He just moved here a couple weeks ago. He created an app and sold it and has a crap-ton of money now. Pretty cool.” At least that part was true. It wasn’t a complete fabrication even though she’d left out the parts her mother would certainly object to.

  Her mom fingered the collar of her sweatshirt and stepped toward her. Brooke backed up a few paces, hoping she wouldn’t smell any alcohol on her breath.

  “All right,” her mother said, sounding tired. “I have a staff meeting tomorrow morning. Do you want me to make you something to eat before I go?”

  “That’s okay,” Brooke said, relieved that the Q & A was over. “I’ll grab a muffin or something on my way to practice.” Brooke never expected her mother to waste a half hour each morning making her something to eat and she wasn’t sure why she did it, but she did. Brooke didn’t question it.