Stranded with My Stepbrother Chapter 107

Will

I drove down a nondescript driveway to a nondescript house. Apparently, its location near the historic parts of Adel was much more of a draw than the house itself, because for a Vrbo, it looked rather drab. Not that I’d ever stayed in a Vrbo. Or anything with less than a five-star rating, for that matter.

“This place is kind of boring for a Vrbo,” McKenzie remarked, confirming my suspicions.

“Maybe that’s a good thing? My grandfather would certainly never look for me in a place like this. Not to sound snooty,” I added the last part quickly.

She shrugged. “Different strokes for different folks. You’ve just had a different upbringing than most people, that’s all. And if it means your grandfather won’t look for you here, all the better.”

“Right,” I said. I parked the Camry in front of the garage. A detached garage.

We both looked up at the house proper. I imagined McKenzie was feeling the same trepidation I was and reached for her hand.

She threaded her fingers through mine, and we sat there for a while, just staring at the house, contemplating what the future might hold.

“I suppose we should just get it over with,” she finally sighed.

I nodded, but neither of us moved, even to take our seat belts off.

The side door, just next to the detached garage, banged open, and we both jumped, revealing a grizzled old man with a wild, kinky beard and bushy eyebrows. The most notable thing about him, however, was the shotgun in his hand.

“Tarnation!” he yelled. “Are you comin’ in or not?!”

McKenzie swallowed and withdrew her hand from mine so she could unbuckle her seat belt. “I guess that’s our invitation.”

“I figure we’d better go inside,” I agreed, unclicking my own seat belt.

We got out of the car and started toward the old man.

He put his shotgun to his shoulder, and I grabbed McKenzie’s wrist and pulled her behind me.

Then the old man lowered the shotgun. “Hmph. Squirrel. Damn vermin makin’ trouble all the time. Can’t hardly tell if there’s a real threat comin’ or not.” He turned and motioned for us to follow him into the house.

I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to throw our lot in with Mr. Trigger-Happy, but it wasn’t like we had much of a choice. I glanced at McKenzie, who’d come out from behind me.

“We might as well follow him in,” she said, her voice tight. 

Was she angry with me? “Yes. Might as well.” I reached for her hand again, but she tugged it away.

Frowning, I decided to let her have her space. Clearly, I’d done something to upset her. I just didn’t know what that was. Besides, we had a gun-toting mountain man to worry about. I decided I’d ask her about it when we were in a safer position.

The old man waited inside the door, tapping his foot impatiently. We hurried into the house. He shut and locked the door. It had three different bolts. Two of them looked brand new. “Took you long enough,” the old man grumped. “You know them Camrys can go six-hundred-and-ten miles before they need more gas. You must’ve stopped at least twice when you didn’t have to.”

“We needed food. And, you know, other things,” I said defensively.

“Y’all could’ve pissed in a bottle,” he replied.

McKenzie and I both made a face. “I suppose I could have,” I explained. “But… well… women…”

“We don’t have the whole aim thing going for us.” She rescued me from my awkward stuttering.

“Hmph.” The old man’s eyes narrowed on us. “Soft. Y’all are too soft. Dunno how I’m gonna keep you alive and outta trouble.”

“We appreciate anything you can do,” I said while McKenzie nodded along with my statement.

“And you’re too hifalutin’.” The old man shook his head. “Well, I gotta work with what I got, I guess. My name’s Lyle. But my friends call me Hoot.”

I bit down hard on my lip. I was not going to laugh. I was not going to laugh.

“‘Hoot’?” she echoed.

Hoot nodded. “Long story. We ain’t got time for it. I already loaded up the Suburban. You’re gonna park the Camry in the garage after I pull ’er out.”

“Okay,” I said. “I can do that.”

“Maybe let me do something,” she grumbled.

I turned to her. “What?”

“No fightin’. We ain’t got time for that, either.” Hoot went to the kitchen table and pulled back the tablecloth, revealing two identical handguns. “Y’all need to grab one of these. And don’t be puttin’ it down the front of your pants, Mr. Bigshot. You’ll blow your dick off.”

“I’m not… sure we’re… comfortable with guns…” I said.

McKenzie rolled her eyes. “I am. Uncle Jake taught me how to use one.” Her expression grew sad. “Uncle Jake died, Hoot.”

Hoot hissed, then drew himself up and squared his shoulders. “Happens to the best of us. All right, grab the guns and let’s go.”

McKenzie took one of the guns and shoved it in the waistband of her jeans at her back. I followed suit, hoping I’d never have occasion to use the thing.

We walked out of the house, and I moved the Camry while she looked on with a frown on her face. Oh yes. We were definitely having a talk soon.

Hoot pulled a black Suburban out of the garage. I was surprised the beast had fit in there. “You go on and park ’er inside.”

I parked the Camry. She headed for the passenger seat.

“Not a chance,” Hoot said. “Y’all need to be able to duck down in the back. Back seat, both of you.”

She let out a huff of frustration and wrenched the door open. I calmly held it for her so it didn’t swing back in and hit her in the ass. Then I got in next to her.

“Buckle up, if that’s your thing.” Hoot started down the road.

I buckled up. She didn’t.

“Please don’t let whatever this is going on between us compromise your safety,” I said to her.

Grumbling under her breath, she buckled her seat belt.

“Thank you.” I turned as much as my seat belt would allow me to and faced her. “Now, will you please tell me what I did wrong?”

“You don’t need to get all protective,” she responded. “I could have handled myself.”

“Handled yourself when?” I asked, confused.

“When Hoot was pointing the shotgun at us,” she replied.

I blinked at her. “You could have handled yourself as in you could have stopped a bullet?”

McKenzie folded her arms over her chest. “No, but I could have taken one as well as you could have.”

“I didn’t want you to take a bullet,” I said. “I wanted me to take a bullet and you to run.”

“What if I wanted to take a bullet and for you to run?” she argued. “You’re not going to pull the man card on me, are you?”

I folded my arms over my chest as well. “Maybe I am.”

“Ugh. I hate it when men pull the man card,” she grunted. “It’s very sexist.”

“I’m not going to apologize for wanting to keep you alive,” I replied.

“You’ve got a lot of piss and vinegar in you, little missy,” Hoot called from the front. “But my job is to keep you alive. Mr. Prissy Pants is just a close second. So if you get a gun pointed at you, yeah, let the big bastard get between you and a bullet.”

She grinned and I felt the tension ease. “‘Mr. Prissy Pants’?”

“My name is Will,” I muttered, glaring at Hoot in the rearview mirror.

“I know. William Masterson the Third. Like that ain’t the most prissy pants name on the planet,” Hoot snorted.

“It is kind of prissy,” she agreed.

I gave her my best puppy-dog pout. “Whose side are you on?”

“Hoot’s, of course,” she laughed.

“Good side to be on, too,” Hoot said.

I sighed. “I guess I can’t win.”

“It ain’t about winning, kid. It’s about living,” Hoot informed me with an air of folkish wisdom.

“Can’t argue with that,” she said. “I, for one, would like to live.”

“So, then why are you mad about me wanting to take a bullet for you?” I asked.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” she sniffed. Then she gave in with a sigh. “Okay, it was kind of heroic.”

“Thank you,” I replied. “I thought so, too.”

“Don’t get a big head about it. It was only kind of heroic.” But her mischievous smile belied her words.

I grinned back. “Well, Hoot’s decided I can take all your bullets for you, so I suppose we won’t be arguing in the future?”

“Not about this, I guess,” she said.

“Yeah, you got to be careful about women, son. You never know when an argument’s comin’,” Hoot cautioned me.

“Gee, thanks, Hoot,” she sighed. “Ugh. Misogyny lives.”

“You’ve been takin’ too many of them Women’s Studies classes at the U,” Hoot decided.

I was now trying very hard not to laugh as her scowl zeroed in on Hoot instead of me. “You mean Gender, Women & Sexuality Studies?” she responded archly.

“Yeah. Them studies,” he said. “They done gone and fried your brain.”

“I suppose a woman’s place is in the kitchen, too?” she growled.

He winked at me in the rearview mirror. “I can think of a few other places. Way he’s been lookin’ at you, I think he’s thought of a few, too.”

“Oh my God. Let me out. I’ll walk,” she groaned.

I patted her shoulder. “I think you’re brilliant. Don’t mind Hoot. I think he’s trying to get you riled up on purpose.”

“You’re probably right.” She leaned her head on my shoulder and every thought I’d ever had suddenly flew from my mind as my blood started pooling southward. “Hoot, do you suppose we can get some sleep now?”

“I don’t want you knowin’ where we’re goin’, so I figure now’s the best time,” he replied. “You two get some shut-eye. I’ll let you know when we stop for gas.”

“Okay. Because if you make me pee in a bottle, I will be extremely pissed off,” she yawned.

Hoot grinned. “And let you ruin my seats? That ain’t gonna happen.”

“Good.” She closed her eyes and snuggled into my shoulder.

“You ain’t gonna be sleepin’, are you?” he asked after her breathing evened out.

“I would, but certain anatomy is making it difficult,” I replied. I traced my fingers over McKenzie’s hairline, brushing a stray lock of honey-colored hair off her face.

“Heh-heh. That’s a prissy way of sayin’ you got a hard-on,” he chuckled.

My cheeks flushed. “Yes, well, it’s going to be a long ride to wherever we’re going if this is all it takes.”

“True. But you wouldn’t be a young man if a pretty girl like McKenzie didn’t get you goin’.” He glanced at me. “If you break her heart, I’ll break every bone in your body. It’s the least I can do for Jack.”

“If I break her heart, I want you to break every bone in my body,” I responded.

Hoot nodded. “Good to know we’re on the same page.”

I looked down at her again. McKenzie took my breath away the way no other woman ever had.

My heart did a little flip-flop, and I knew then that I was in big, big trouble.