Love Bird. by Emily. Z. (story read aloud TXT) 📕

You could be in danger. I'm...I'm sorry."

Ignoring the pain in my heart, I turned and resumed my silent trek to the house. There was an awkward air around us now, as I could feel his eyes on my back.

I reached the driveway, seeing that Victor was home. Had he already gone to get the clue?

I reached the front door in seconds, but before I could even reach for the key, it flew open, and I was encircled. His arms were like steel traps, tense and unyielding. I was pulled into his chest in seconds, and all I could see or feel, or even smell was Victor.

"Victor-," My voice was muffled into his chest, but he only held me tighter.

"I got a call from the station that a girl had been seen being pursued by an unknown assailant. The description matched yours. God, Jane, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't call you, and I was getting ready to head over there myself."

Feeling the vibration of his chest reverberating through my body, and hearing his pounding heart beat caused me to relax. I felt safe. I felt as though all of my worries from before had melted away. I didn't want to leave this position.

"Are you alright, Jane?" He asked me, pulling me back to look at my face.

"I'm fine," I replied instantly, wanting to stem his worries. "I haven't seen anyone tailing me. I got away with no injuries. I'm okay."

He let out a deep breath, just as a throat cleared behind us.

We turned to find Logan, standing awkwardly a few feet away, with his hands deep in his pockets. He lifted a hand and waved once.

"Yo."

There was a moment of silence, as Victor took in his face. His eyes squinted slightly as if he was in disbelief. He looked down at me, and I gave him a sheepish smile.

"I ran into him at the hotel, I couldn't exactly just leave him there."

My explanation didn't please him. He let go of me and started towards Logan, but I quickly moved in front of him and pushed both my hands against his chest.

"Don't you do it!" I scolded, giving him a scathing look. "We don't have time for a brawl right now, and my face doesn't exactly need to be on the news."

His hard eyes looked into mine, and slowly he relaxed. "Fine. Logan, get your ass inside," He ordered, taking my hands from his chest and pulling me close to him.

He pulled me inside as Logan trailed after us, and I felt guilty that he had to see us like this. Victor was especially clingy since Logan was around, causing me to roll my eyes. I knew it hurt Logan, and I tried to keep my distance from Victor for that reason. No matter if I didn't feel that way about him; Logan still had feelings for me, and for me to walk all over that by ignoring the fact would be even more hurtful. I'd feel like a bitch.

I sat in the single chair in the living room, much to Victor's disappointment, and the brothers sat far apart, shooting each other scathing looks when the other wasn't looking. It was almost amusing - if I hadn't been the cause for their differences I would have laughed. This time, pissing them off wasn't fun.

I let out a heavy sigh and leaned over, picking up Victor's phone from the table. It was a touch screen, which made me make a face. I hated touch screens. I hadn't used one in so long that I felt like a three year old trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.

Despite my annoyance, I finally figured out where to dial, and dialed up a number I'd memorized for my own convenience.

I stood up and began to pace as I waited, chewing my lip as the tone grated on my nerves. The brothers watched me with slightly puzzled looks as they wondered who I was calling.

Finally, there was a click, and a gruff voice rang out through the speaker.

"Hello."

"Hey Finn!" I said, stopping my pace as relief set in.

"Is that Jane? How long's it been?" He roared with laughter, and I smiled, wincing as I pulled the phone from my ear at how loud he was.

"It sure is! Couple years, right?" I replied.

"About there! So? What's going on? Need another "rental"?" This time his laugh was evil.

Finnegan Clark was a mean son of a bitch, who sold stolen cars that he calls rentals. I used his services years ago when I found his number amongst my father's lovely phone book. When I first met him I thought he looked the type to smash a skull in just for fun. Turns out he only does that to people he doesn't like. Luckily for me, he took a liking to me.

"Sort of," I replied, sighing, "I know I said I'd never turn in this favor, but remember that "repo" job I did for you?"

Victor's eyebrows raised at the obvious quotation marks in my voice, and Logan grinned. It was nice to see an expression other than annoyance and sulk.

"Sure do," He murmured as I turned away from them. "That was some fine work."

"Yeah, so I'm calling it in. I need a favor."

"Really?" He laughed, and I had to pull the phone away from my ear again, "Well butter my biscuit; I never thought I'd hear it!"

I ran a hand through my hair as my face shown utter annoyance. "Me neither," I muttered, my voice dry.

"What'dya' need, Sugar?" He laughed.

Letting out a deep breath, I glanced at Victor, who stared at me with clear and determined golden eyes. I could tell he was still trying to figure out what "repo" meant, and I grinned slightly.

"A decoy," I replied.

There was a moment of silence, and I could practically feel him grinning.

"Tell me all about it."

***

YEEEEES I like Finn. Reminds me of a really badass grandpa in my mind at the moment. With a really deep voice. And who is soft on people he likes. Yes.

Anyway, what do you guys think? What's this "repo" job Jane talked about?

Sorry for the long wait, yet again. I'm a slacker. I know. Call it what you want.

YEAH YEAH JUST CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT

sorry had to.

ANYWAY love you guys! Have a good week. I'm going to be going on a road trip this week on Thursday So that should be fun!

Hope you enjoyed, you guys! See you next chapter.

- Em.

Child Lock.

 

For the life of me, I couldn't remember how I ended up in this position. The road stretched on, seemingly endless, as the tension in the car felt like it could be cut like a cake. But it was one of those deceptive cakes, where it looked all sweet and frosty on the outside but on the inside it tasted salty and disappointing.

Yeah, that kind of cake.

Cakes aside, Victor had insisted that he come with me on this little road trip. And so, of course, Logan insisted he go as well. I outright refused, but my attempts to run out the door and jump in the car before they could catch me were immediately stopped by Victor's arm around my waist. 

So, being bitter, I locked the doors to the front seat and forced them both to sit in the back. They were less than pleased, especially since they had no desire to be within five feet of each other, let alone the width of a tiny, shabby car. 

Yes, we took mine. I didn't exactly think it through, and my poor car was rattling apart. I simply turned up the radio to drown the suspicious tapping sound emanating from the engine.

Ironically enough, as I felt  Logan's eyes staring into my back, Silver Springs was playing.

Lovely.

Despite the odd irony this song captured, I sang along, because who doesn't love a good Fleetwood song? 

Sounding like a drowning banshee, I wailed along to the song, hitting the high notes so perfectly, it wasn't even difficult. 

"Time cast a spell on you," I sang, raising my hands from the wheel, "But you won't forget me!"

The car swerved slightly, hitting a pot hole. I caught the wheel, letting out a stream of curses to the beat and melody of the song. Never lose the spirit. 

Huh, was that knocking sound always that loud?

"Jesus, Jane!" Victor complained, "I love your singing voice as much as the next guy but keep your hands on the wheel!"

"Hey!" I blindly pointed behind me, "Leave my driving alone!"

I turned the radio up some more, to drown out both the engine and my annoying boyfriend, and attempted to hit the high note on the next verse. My banshee noises have improved.

I glanced in the rear view to see Logan shaking with silent laughter, and Victor glaring at me. I shot him a wink.

"Someone's in a bad mood today! Huh, Logan?" I yelled back, seeing as I wasn't going to turn the music down for anything.

What he said sounded like a garbled mess.

"What?" I screamed. "I can't hear you!"

He waved his hand at the mirror, grinning. It was nice to have him actually smiling for a change. 

Shrugging, I shrieked along to the song, and just to piss of Victor, I swerved to the beat. He was rigid in the back seat the whole way, hands holding onto anything he could.

"I'm driving home!" He yelled at one point, and I just laughed.

We exited the highway, and wound down a road that hadn't been serviced in probably fifty years. Houses were spaced miles apart, and properties were a little...run down. 

There we came upon the "Junk Yard." That's what I liked to call it. It was code for Finn's place. Hundreds of cars sat, some destroyed, some in pristine condition. He was off the radar, save for one phone that very few had the number for, and traced back to Kansas. He claimed to "collect" cars, and has fixed up more than I could count, hence the junked cars lying about. He had a lot of connections, most that he made you pay a pretty penny for. 

Victor still had no idea what we were doing here, simply because I spoke in code the entire conversation. And who could understand,

"Grandma's in the hen house with five eggs in the basket"?

That's code for, "I'm in trouble and I need a couple bail outs."

Bail outs meaning decoys.

I pulled into the driveway, made by countless cars driving in, and spotted Finn standing on the porch. I lifted my hand, and he grinned. That's Finn, alright.

A hulking man, he stood at six feet. He had a scruffy beard that didn't quite reach his chest, but was still long enough to braid - if he would let me, dammit. His hair was long as well, like a man stuck in the seventies, it was thick and went down to his shoulder blades. He usually kept it under a cowboy hat, or had it back in a loose tail at the nape. He was in his late forties, but even now I could tell he was a handsome man back in his day. He reminded me of a grandpa...who had gone to jail for ten years. So he reminded me of a jail-hardened grandpa.

He stood in a stance that reminded