The doorbell rings. I go cold, especially when Grumbler holds up a hand and goes to his saddle bag he’d brought in with him and draws out a gun. He positions himself by the side of the door, then jerks his chin, a sign that I should check it out.
Tension leaves me in a rush when I see through the peephole who it is, and immediately open up. “Hi, Marisa.”
“Er, hi, Mary. Is Alicia here?” She peers around me.
“Alicia? It’s Marisa,” I yell over my shoulder.
“Um, tell her I’ll call her later. I’m just about to jump in the shower,” comes a disembodied voice.
Marisa’s face falls while mine grows tight, summing up the situation immediately. She wanted to get the dirt on what happened last night, and understandably, Alicia hasn’t had time to get her story straight. It’s up to her to decide how much to tell her friends.
“Alicia left her phone when she left earlier.” I notice Marisa avoids giving me a time she left. Morning, noon or afternoon, earlier could mean anything. She hands me Alicia’s phone with just one more statement. “Tell her to call me later.”
As she skips back down the path toward her mom waiting in the car, Grumbler chuckles beside me.
“And that’s how you do it.”
“Do what?” I turn, puzzled.
“No embellishment. Giving you no reason to call her out in a lie. She doesn’t know what time Alicia returned home, so she didn’t give details.”
I’m not so sure I admire the girl’s ability to cover a lie, but then I don’t think the same way as the man by my side.
Alicia appears, her eyes wide. She looks to me, then to the closed door. “I can’t do it, Mom,” she whispers. “I can’t talk to her. She’ll want to know how the date went.”
I open my mouth, but Grumbler gets in first. “You trust her to keep her trap shut?”
“She can’t,” I say firmly. “Whatever Alicia thinks, this is too juicy. Marisa might let something drop, and the whole school would find out she was almost a porn star.”
“Mom! Marisa wouldn’t do that.”
“Kid, you fucked up. You know that.” Grumbler acts as if I hadn’t said a word. “You trusted the wrong guy. I agree with your mom, certain things you keep to yourself. You’re certainly not unique at being taken in by an expert, but that should teach you to be more careful now. You can give a version of events you’re comfortable with, and which, if it gets around, could be a public service.”
Alicia moves closer, her brow creased. “Lie?”
“Tell Marisa he strung you a line. That you left when you found out he was older than he appeared, and he wasn’t such a nice guy. You can admit you’re embarrassed and too upset to talk to her.”
“But where was I last night?”
“Just tell her you were upset and hurting,” Grumbler says determinedly. “Not wanting to admit it had all gone wrong, which was why you hadn’t contacted her. Let her make her own assumptions that you came home to lick your wounds. Maybe by telling her you narrowly escaped making a mistake, it might make Marisa think twice about getting her head turned by a pretty face.” He pauses, then adds, “You know I’m in the motorcycle club lifestyle. It’s in my nature to be cautious, and trust comes hard. You never give people ammunition that can come back and hurt you. Give a version of events that isn’t exactly a lie, but not the whole truth.”
He glances at me. I study him for a moment, then turn back to my daughter. “This is one time when you’ve got to think as an adult, sweetie.”
“I can’t keep this bottled up inside.”
“Of course, you can’t,” Grumbler agrees. “I suggest your mom arranges professional help. While we can tell you until the cows come home that you’re not to blame, you’re carrying too much shit in your head. Talking to someone will be able to put this into focus, and it will be a safe environment where you can talk without fear of any of the salacious details getting out.”
Why I hadn’t immediately thought of it I’m not sure, but Grumbler is right. She needs someone safe to speak to, someone she knows won’t judge her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Grumbler
What am I doing?
I’m not a family man and have always prided myself that I stayed away from drama. Never getting close to a woman meant never having to mop up tears or provide a shoulder in comfort. Now I seem to have become embroiled in the type of events you’d watch on a soap opera.
Strangely, it doesn’t make me want to run a mile. Instead, I want to put my arms around both women and tell them what happened was neither of their faults. Mary hasn’t been a bad parent, she’s done everything right and tried to guide her child. But like every teenager, Alicia has a rebellious streak, an idea she knows better than the adults around her. Striking out on one’s own path is part of growing up, it’s just a fucking shame she chose a direction that was wrong for her.
The risk of Owen coming calling has been minimised by them not going to the cops and not openly involving us. Any investigation by Token or Utah will firmly be done under the radar, so my presence here is probably overly cautious. But I can’t deny there’s a possibility of having duped Alicia so successfully last night, he might come back to get more mileage out of her.
I’m not an angel, of course I’ve watched porn. But I’ve never had any inclination to watch anything that wasn’t readily available, knowing there were some you could find if you wanted to that catered to deviant interests. While not
