Vivian Arend - Turn It On

“Maxine, get back in the house,” Ryan ordered.

She turned from where she’d squatted to gather the mess into a pile. “Why? I need to clean this up.”

“You need to go inside. I’ll take care of it.” He glanced into the trees and across the property, a stern expression on his face. “Whoever tipped the cans could still be around.”

Maxine sighed. “Good grief. It’s annoying as hell, but it’s just garbage cans. It’s kids, a stupid prank. They’re probably home in bed laughing at the joke they pulled. I’m going to get some new bags. If you grab the cans we can get it cleaned up faster than if you stand there arguing with me.” She stomped indoors.

Frustration rocked her again, mixed with a bit of fear. The vandalism around the house continued, but nothing more dangerous than these childish pranks. Was it a group of teens in the community with too much time on their hands? A couple of days after Thanksgiving she’d discovered all her deck chairs in the lake. She hadn’t mentioned it to Ryan, but her flat tire the previous day was the third that week. Contacting the neighbors to ask them to keep a better eye on their kids hadn’t worked. She was getting tired of dealing with the uncertainty of the mischief. Her imagination continued to suggest something more ominous was at the bottom of it. So many incidents couldn’t be a fluke, but damn if she wanted to run with her tail between her legs just when she was starting to spread her wings.

Ryan shook his head. He hauled the second tire off and popped it into his trunk to take into the repair shop. He’d offered to help her but didn’t think Maxine would have to call the very next day to inform him she had two flat tires. It was past noon before he got away from his commitments. “Did you drive over broken glass?”

“No, I don’t think so. It’s too much of a coincidence I keep getting flats. Is there a way someone is making them go flat? Damn, I need to visit my neighbors again and get them to rein in their kids at night.” Maxine stood and brushed the dirt from her knees. “You want lunch before you head out?”

He laughed. “Nice attempt at changing the topic. No, I don’t need lunch. Yes, someone could be messing with your tires. I’ll visit the neighbors.”

She paused, a frown creasing her face. “Why would you do that? I’ll speak to them.”

“Sometimes having a guy show up will intimidate the kids more. If it is kids, and I’m still not convinced.” Maxine had had more troubles since moving into the house than any one person should experience. Something didn’t feel right and Ryan wanted to get to the bottom of it. He worried about her safety when he wasn’t with her. Worried something serious would occur.

The whole concept of what it meant to care for someone was driving him crazy. Carl needed his time and energy, and now Ryan found he constantly wanted to be around Maxine. She was on his mind most of the day. Not only because they were dynamite in bed, but because he wanted to make sure the strange occurrences were only pranks and not something darker.

By the time the tires were fixed it was after six, so he sweet-talked Maxine into going out for dinner. Sitting by the ocean, some of his concerns receded as they chatted about Christmas plans. He held her hand as they enjoyed each other’s company.

It was becoming clearer someone like Maxine was what he needed in his life. What he’d done before wasn’t living, not like he experienced now. Her attitude encouraged him to look around with new eyes, to appreciate the vibrancy of the moment. She gave so willingly, not even noticing how often she changed her own plans to accommodate others. She joined him when he dropped in on Carl, babysat cousins at the drop of a hat and worshipped her Gramma. Her generous heart floored him, and shamed him. Slowly he began to open up to his brother in an attempt to find a deeper place in his heart for the boy. The concept of family was evolving from an evil memory to a hopeful place—a place where he might be able to see a future beyond being alone.

All because of Maxine.

They returned to the house and even as they drove up he saw the damage.

“Oh my God, Ryan, someone’s torn up the lawn. How could they do that?” Maxine leapt from the car the instant he stopped, and he fought the urge to pick her up and carry her into her house. Deep ridges cut into the turf, the soil laid bare in semicircular tracks.

“It’s not the neighbor’s kids. Your pranksters were pulling doughnuts on the lawn with a half-ton truck or something. Call the police. They can check the tire tracks.” Ryan glanced at Maxine’s car. “Fuck.”

He’d put the repaired tires back on and yet the car now sat impossibly low, the rims resting on the ground. There was glass on the ground in front of the shattered window and when he peeked inside the stereo was missing, cords dangling from the dash.

“Oh shit. Not again.” Maxine continued to swear softly as Ryan debated what to do. One thing was fucking sure, she wasn’t staying alone in the house until he had a chance to do a few more additions to the security system.

By the time the police had come and gone, Ryan had the first part of his plan figured out. “I’m going to install an alarm in your car and I’m adding cameras outside the house as well.”

She stared at him in surprise as they sat at the island in the kitchen, drinking hot tea. They’d just finished covering the car windows with plastic to protect the interior until she could take it to the repair shop. “The outdoor cameras I can understand. I’d love to catch these jerks in the act and the house is too far from any neighbors for them to see the vandals. But an alarm—how would that stop them? It makes noise after they’ve already broken the window or whatever. That sounds a little over the top.”

“Over the top would be not doing everything we can to stop these guys. So far they’ve just been vandals, we don’t want to let them feel like they’ve got the power to make any further moves on your territory.”

Maxine waved her hand. “You make it sound like I’ve got the Mafia moving into the area. I still think it’s likely kids with too much time on their hands caused most of the vandalism. The truck is the part I don’t understand. Add the outside cameras, they make sense, but I don’t want an alarm in my car. I hear them going off all the time in the shopping mall parking lots. All it takes is a good hip check and you’ve got wailing noises. With my luck it would make the kid’s day to have an alarm to set off every morning at three a.m.”

“You’re not thinking reasonably about this,” he complained.

“You’re worrying too much, Ryan,” she insisted. “I know you do security for a living but this is just…I don’t know, bad luck.”

“Like the phone calls before were bad luck?”

She froze. “That’s not fair. The two are not connected at all.”

“You don’t know that for sure, and that’s why I want to do everything we can to make sure the house is safe. That you’re safe.” He rose, walked to her side and pulled her into his arms. “I want to take care of you, don’t you see? Let me take care of you.” God help him if anything happened to her.

And that knowledge scared him almost as much as the idea of her being hurt.

A bitter taste filled her mouth as she looked at the mess. She closed her eyes for a moment to settle her churning stomach, debating long and hard before pulling out her cell phone.

“Ryan, it’s happened again. Someone’s vandalized my car.” She walked slowly back toward the house, glancing around warily.

He cursed on the other end of the line and she sighed, recognizing his tone. Shit, she shouldn’t have called him. He was going to go ballistic on her. “Damn it, get inside the house and lock the door. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Don’t come home early, it’s only cleanup as usual. I’m getting used to it. Don’t—” It was her turn to swear as the line went dead. She dropped her head into her hands and then went into the house to get a garbage bag and the hand vacuum. Hopefully most of the mess would gone before Ryan got home.

This time the pranksters seemed to have put even more effort into the destruction. Both headlights were smashed, the side mirrors ruined, the upholstery sliced to ribbons.

It was enough to make her cry.

Other than the sheer inconvenience of having to get her car repaired, Ryan was driving her mad. She understood why he’d insisted on taking her home with him the first night when the lawn was damaged, but once he’d installed the outside cameras she’d expected him to lay off a bit. Instead, he’d continued to tighten security around her like she was a visiting diplomat.

At first it had been slightly endearing to see him hell-bent on taking care of her, but as the days passed he got more controlling. He arranged for her to call him at regular intervals. He slept over, and not because they were in the after throes of body-melting sexual bliss. In fact he’d barely touched her since that night—certainly not with his previous enthusiasm and commanding nature. If she’d felt like her family had been demanding, Ryan now won the award for “most overbearing and possessive”.

Her frustrations had nothing to do with his concerns for her safety—that she could accept. Yes, she was worried too. Yes, the whole situation had somehow gotten out of control and there seemed to be no easy solutions. She just didn’t appreciate his attempts to hide her away. When he brought potentially dangerous activities to her attention, she’d accepted his warnings. She didn’t go out on the porch alone at night, didn’t leave the doors unlocked. Hell, she had police on speed dial and a baseball bat beside her bed. In the midst of the chaos, she wanted her lover back, not the overprotective bossy soul he’d become.