2. Prescription For Love

Gathering every shred of her tattered willpower, Abby pushed away. The wild hunger on Flann’s face almost made her not care where they were or who might see them. But she wanted more than a kiss. More than almost. She wanted all.

“Blake and Margie are waiting,” Abby said. “And one more kiss like that, and I’m going to want a lot more than kisses.”

“You’re right,” Flann said, breathing hard. “What I want to do I can’t do here. When—”

The roar of motorcycles drowned out Flann’s words, and a strange look passed over Flann’s face. “What?” Abby asked, recognizing Flann’s focus shift to risk assessment.

“Where are Blake and Margie?”

“They were getting something to eat and heading for the parking lot to meet me. Why?”

Flann took her hand. “Probably nothing. Come on. Let’s go find them.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Some guy’s been bothering Margie,” Flann muttered. “It’s probably nothing, I just want to—”

Blake and Margie stood next to Abby’s car. Four young men on motorcycles ringed them, the engines rumbling like threatening predators. Abby’s pulse raced and her mind sharpened. The threat had materialized.

“Stay here.” Flann strode quickly toward the group. Abby followed on her heels and edged over toward Blake and Margie.

Flann halted inches from a scruffy bearded boy in a nondescript T-shirt and grimy jeans. About twenty, he was hollow-cheeked, his eyes narrow and small. He looked like an angry rodent of some kind, the type that bit when cornered. Abby’s chest tightened.

“You’re gonna want to stay away from my sister and her friends, Richie,” Flann said.

“No law says I can’t talk to her,” Richie said.

“When you’re fifteen, you can get away with being a bully unless somebody puts a stop to it. Somebody should have set you to rights then.” Richie smirked. Flann’s stony expression never changed. “Now what you’re doing is called stalking. If I see you around Margie again, or she tells me you’re following her, or verbally accosting her, you’ll get a visit from the sheriff.” Richie snorted, but his gaze shifted away from Flann’s solid one.

Harper eased up beside Abby. “What’s going on?”

“Not sure, something about Margie and that boy on the motorcycle. He’s been following her, it sounds like.”

Harper stepped up next to Flann. “Hey, sis. Need help swatting flies?”

“Not just yet.”

“Fucking dykes,” Richie said, but his voice was thin and shaky. He glanced at Blake. “Freaks.

Figures.”

“You’re gonna want to back off now, Richie,” Flann said softly, but loud enough for everyone who had gathered around to hear. “And you’ll want to stay away from my sister and her friend Blake.”

“You see, Richie,” Harper added, “Blake’s family.”

“Yeah. Whole family’s freaks,” Richie muttered, but he was pushing his motorcycle back away from Flann and Harper. His friends silently followed suit and the crowd parted, disdainful glances following the group as they turned and rode away.

Abby wanted to grab Blake but knew he would be embarrassed. Instead, she said as casually as she could manage, “Everybody doing okay?”

Blake nodded. “Yeah. They’re just jerks.”

“I agree. Not a particularly scientific assessment,” Abby said lightly, “but accurate.”

Presley cut through the crowd to Harper and took her hand. “Everything all right?”

Harper kissed her. “Fine.” She slid an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go home.”

Presley wrapped an arm around her waist. “Good idea.”

The crowd broke up, and Flann watched until Richie West and his friends pulled onto the highway and roared away. “Morons.”

She turned, took in Margie and Blake. “They come near you again, you call me. Or Abby or

Harper. Day or night. Right there on the spot. If you can’t get us, you call 9-1-1.” “They won’t bother us again.” Margie glanced at Blake. “They’re cowards.” “Bullies usually are,” he said quietly.

“Just remember,” Flann said, “you don’t ever have to take it. Either of you. That’s why we’re here.

All of us.”

Blake looked at Flann, then his mother. “We know.”

“I’ll be with you two in a minute.” Abby took Flann’s hand and drew her away. “Thank you.”

Flann cupped her cheek and kissed her. “No thanks necessary. I really wanted to tear his mean little head off, but I didn’t want you to think I was uncivilized.”

“You can be as uncivilized as you want when we’re alone.”

Flann grinned. “Be careful, I might take you at your word.”

Abby walked toward the car. After a few steps, she glanced over her shoulder, liking that Flann was watching her. “I expect you to.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“I knew we should’ve gotten here earlier,” Blake said, practically vibrating in the front seat.