44. Van
44
Van
" I don't know, man," Norris says as his car idles in the street. "I believe in true love and all that shit. And I think you and Josie are meant to be. I'm just saying I probably shouldn't drive away just yet. She could kick your sorry ass to the curb. Or she could be visiting relatives halfway across the country."
I look over at the redbrick house that's Josie's, at least according to the website Ollie found. "I'll be good," I assure him with more confidence than I feel.
Norris drives off and I make my way to the front of her house. Sure, she could slam the door in my face and refuse to talk to me, but I know Josie and I hope that even if she's had enough of my bullshit, she listens to what I came to say.
And if she's willing to give me another second chance, I'm not gonna blow it.
I ring the doorbell and a tiny voice comes over the speaker. "State your name and your business."
I can't see her face, but I recognize Iris's sweet little voice. "Hey, it's Beckett Vandaele, Skee-Ball Champ Extraordinaire, at your service. Remember me? We met at Little John's a couple weeks ago."
There's a long pause and then a slightly older voice issues a command. "Show us your face and ID." That has to be the twins. Jos said they're really into true crime. And I'm kinda proud of them for making sure I am who I say I am.
The door opens slightly and wide brown eyes peer up at me through thick glasses. These frames are blue and the hair is blonde, but there's no doubt this is Josie's other sister, Tillie. "If you would, please come in and have a seat so we can verify your identification. You can't be too careful these days, you know."
A little boy stands in the entryway and points me to a chair in the living room. I walk my way over, take a seat, and lean my crutches against a bookcase. The boy—Milo, I'm betting—picks them up and carries them off.
"Don't worry, Mr. Vandaele—if that's even your real name—we'll take good care of these."
I can't wait to tell Josie how far these kids are taking the true crime thing. I can picture us snuggled up on the couch later, laughing about it.
If she doesn't kick me out.
Iris appears out of nowhere and holds her hand out. "Keys, phone, and wallet, please. Milo will run these through the system, and we'll get them right back to you."
I play along because this is fun.
Until it's not.
About a second after Iris runs off with the most important things I own, Milo and Tillie start running around my chair in circles. I'm worried they'll trip over my leg and this stupid brace, and that's why it takes a second for me to realize what they're up to.
I came to Silver Creek to beg Josie's forgiveness and ask for one more chance at forever.
And now I'm tied to a chair in her living room.
My hands are free, but just barely. I'm sitting here like a T-Rex wondering what the hell just happened, but I don't think I'm getting an answer anytime soon, because the trio of terror has run up the stairs.
A few minutes go by and I feel like I'm being watched. I spot the older girl, Tillie, sitting on the steps. Okay, this could work. I give her my best smile. "Hey, you're Tillie, right?"
She nods.
"Josie talks about you a lot. Do you know where she is?"
Tillie shakes her head and starts walking back up the steps. A second later, she turns around. "Do you hydrate regularly?" she asks.
"Uh, yeah. I'm...I'm an athlete, so I take pretty good care of myself," I tell her, because dammit, I still am an athlete—an injured one, yes. Will I ever play college hockey again? It seems unlikely at this point. But Coach gave me a lot to think about. And considering I'm all tied up at Josie's house right now (and yes, I had pictured this scenario in my head, and no, this isn't how I envisioned it), I guess I've got some time to think things over.
"Oh, good," Tillie says, nodding and pulling me back to the present. "The average healthy adult male can survive for up to three days without water, so you should be fine. Plus, Josie's only at the Stop n' Shop, so she shouldn't be much longer. We'll get started right after she gets home."
Then she's gone, leaving me to wonder what the hell we're going to "get started" once Josie gets back. This is fucking nuts. I mean, did I expect winning Josie back (for the second time) to be easy? Nope. But I thought the hard part would be talking to her and convincing her I deserve another chance, not keeping the blood flowing to my fingers as I'm bound to a damn chair.
I wriggle around a bit, but it's no use. And since I don't have my wallet, my phone, or my crutches, getting my hands free isn't going to do much good.
I hear the creak of a door and then a bang as it slams shut. Slamming doors isn't really Josie's style, but maybe my assholery has pissed her off so much that she's become callous and careless about wood fixtures and noise levels. A guy can hope.
"Jos, is that you?" I call as a tall lanky teenager comes into view. His dark, curly hair is a few months past needing a trim, his jeans hang low on his hips, but still only brush the tops of his feet. He toes off his boat-sized sneakers and leaves them in the middle of the entryway as he heads toward what I can only guess is the kitchen. My view is pretty limited, but I recognize the sound of the fridge opening and the tell-tale sound of a soda can being opened and the crinkle of a chip bag.
The kid—it's gotta be Zane—saunters into the living room ready to plop down on the sofa until he spots me. I give a nod, because, well, I can't fucking wave.
"Who the hell are you?" he asks, grabbing the remote and settling in.
I'd be a little alarmed at his casual response, but after being essentially kidnapped, it's kind of refreshing.
"Hey, you play hockey, right?"
He gives me a weird look, and I can't blame him. "Look, I'm Van, Josie's boyfriend. Technically ex-boyfriend because I was being a total asshat. That's actually why I'm here, to apologize. But I think I'm in the middle of a game with your younger brother and sisters. Do you think maybe you could help me out?"
Zane walks over to me, looks me up and down, and gives me the middle finger. He swipes the remote from the back of the couch and flips through channels until he finds the one he wants. Great. There's a giant purple dinosaur singing on the screen. I didn't even think this show was on anymore. He lobs the remote across the room and into a basket of blankets, then he looks me right in the eyes. "You think I'm helping you? Guess again, dickface. You made Josie cry. I'll let the little kids carry on with their plan, whatever it is."
I'm two episodes into the worst TV show ever when the door opens again. An older, slightly shorter version of Zane walks in. His coat and hat are covered in snow. He glances right past me and does a double-take. "Wait, you're not Mr. Bilson," he says, his face scrunched up in confusion.
"No," I say. "Is he tied up somewhere, too?"
Levi—because this has to be the older brother—just shrugs. That does not make me feel better. "If you're not Bilson, then who the—" He stops mid-sentence and starts cracking up. "Oh, shit. You're the dumbass hockey player, aren't you?"
I don't answer because he leaves the room and goes into what I've decided is the kitchen. He returns less than a minute later with a couple bottles of beer in his hands and offers me one.
"Thanks, but I can't really drink it."
Levi just stares at me like I'm the weird one. "Of course you can. Milo, you around?" he calls. Josie's youngest brother comes creeping around the corner and I feel instant relief. I don't want Levi to yell at the kids or anything, but I am excited to be released.
"Hey, Milo," Levi asks, "We still have those really big straws from Busch Gardens, right?"
Seconds later, there's a big-ass, loopy straw in my beer and I'm holding the bottle awkwardly in my T-Rex claw. "Thanks," I mutter.
"Cheers," he says, clinking our bottles.
We drink in silence for a few minutes, but I know it won't last. I'm not surprised when
Levi finishes his beer, sets the bottle on a table, and turns to face me. "It's Vance, right?"
I shake my head. "Just Van."
"Yeah, fine. Answer me this: What the hell are you doing here? Because let's be clear, you broke my sister's heart not once, but twice. And the first time, yeah, you were kids, whatever. But right now she's hurting, raw, and still processing, so if you are here to fuck with her in any way, you can leave now before she even knows the little kids tied you up."
"I'm not. I swear." I try to put my hands up, but that just ends with me giving the world's tiniest wave.
Levi's not done. "Then what do you want? You want Josie back?
This guy isn't just Josie's brother, he's her best friend. They've been through some serious shit together, and it's clear they have each other's backs. I've got to be honest and hope that's enough.
"I want Josie happy. It's all I've ever wanted, honestly. For a misguided minute, I thought Josie would be better off without me. I came here to find out if she's as miserable as I am."