My Brother's Best Friend (The Lakeland Boys Book 3) Read online

  My Brother’s Best Friend

  By

  G.L. Snodgrass

  Copyright 2017 G.L. Snodgrass

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof in any form. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means. This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Purple Herb Publishing

  http://www.glsnodgrass.com/

  [email protected]

  Amazon Author Page

  Other Books by G. L. Snodgrass

  Certain Rules

  Unwritten Rules

  Unbreakable Rules

  Novellas

  My Favorite Love (Lakeland Boys 1)

  One Night (Lakeland Boys 2)

  Nothing So Quiet

  My Sister’s Best Friend

  Hidden Friends

  Love's Winding Road

  Finding You

  Regency Romance

  The Reluctant Duke (Regency Romance)

  The Viscount's Bride (Regency Romance)

  The Earl's Regret (Regency Romance)

  Confronting a Rake (Regency Romance)

  Dedicated To

  Sandy Klem

  My Brother’s Best Friend

  Chapter One

  Marla

  I was six-years-old the first time I fell in love with Tank Gunderson. But, who could blame me? Everyone loved Tank. I just loved him more.

  The first day of first grade and I’m being teased and bullied by two third graders. I can still feel the warm tears rolling down my cheek. My young life in ruins. And out of nowhere, Tank flies through the air and tackles the two of them. Taking them out like a true superhero.

  What girl wouldn’t fall in love?

  I was twelve the next time I fell in love with Tank.

  You’ve got to understand. Tank had always been a part of my life. One of the Lakeland boys. My older brother Jason’s best friends. The four of them had grown up together. Jason, Tank, Nick, and Luke. They had always been there.

  And our house, being the magnet house in the neighborhood. Seemed to draw them like bugs to a zapper.

  So, I was confused about a lot of things. Especially when I was twelve. Tank was Tank. Kind, funny, and as solid as a rock. I couldn’t imagine a life without Tank in it.

  Then something happened with his father. I didn’t know what. My parents would stop whispering whenever I came into the room. But I could tell it was serious. Jason didn’t even know what happened. But one day, Tank’s father was gone.

  I don’t mean divorced type gone. Where Tank got to see him on the weekends. I mean gone, as in no one was allowed to talk about him type gone.

  Then, it looked like Tank, and his mom were going to leave, and for the first time in a long time, I realized the truth. My world wouldn’t be right unless Tank was a part of it.

  I can still remember the ache in my heart when the U-Haul pulled up outside their house. I stood on our porch and watched. Unable to take my eyes away as my heart melted into a glob of sadness.

  I couldn’t move. Couldn’t get my mind wrapped around the idea that Tank was leaving.

  Then I saw him walk out of his house and stare at the truck. His shoulders were slumped, and he kept looking at the ground like he was having trouble coming to grips with what was going on.

  I don’t know why. I don’t know how. But my feet took me down the street to his house. I didn’t think about it as I stepped up next to him as we watched the men load the truck. I just reached out and took his hand. It was all I could think to do.

  He didn’t look at me, but his hand held mine in a firm grasp as we just stood there.

  Then, out of nowhere, he said, “He stole. My day took a bunch of money from where he works.”

  I gasped. No one had said.

  Tank’s shoulders began to shake a little as he continued, “He had a girlfriend in Seattle, paying for her apartment, and stuff. I can’t believe it. He’s going to prison.”

  The pain in his voice would have cut through steel.

  I knew that Tank’s father had always been tough on him. A big, boisterous man who always thought he was right. And his son never seemed to be enough.

  Nothing physical. At least nothing we could see. But verbal stuff. It would tear Tank apart. He worshiped his father. He tried to be perfect. But it never seemed to be enough.

  Now, to learn the great man was a thief. It must have torn Tank apart. I never knew anyone more honorable than Tank. To think his own father was a thief must have ripped his soul.

  I just stood there and held his hand. What more could I do? I wanted to hug him. I wanted to make his pain go away. But, instead. I just stood there with him. Silently letting him know that things would be all right.

  The day that truck pulled away from their house had to be the worst day of my life. I can still remember the hollow, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  For a week, it felt like a heavy fog had drifted in to cover all of Lakeland estates.

  Then, without anybody saying anything. Tank and his mom came back. Almost like they were sneaking back into their own house. I learned later that his uncle had bought their house and let them live there.

  I didn’t care as long as it meant Tank got to stay.

  My heart soared when I saw him jump down from the truck. Then I looked up and saw the pain hidden behind his eyes. This really didn’t fix his problems, I realized. Nothing would ever make that sense of betrayal go away. Nothing could.

  Later that night, I thought about Tank and what he meant to me. It wouldn’t have been the same if it had been Luke or Nick. No. This was Tank.

  He was always there. When mom took everyone to the Drive-in, he made Jason share his popcorn with me. When I stood on the sidelines and watched them play basketball in our driveway. He would pass me the ball occasionally and let me shoot.

  I know, it wasn’t much. But at the time, it seemed like everything. You’ve got to understand. My brother and his friends ruled our neighborhood. They had the best adventures. They got to do everything first.

  Me, I was the sidekick that got in the way. The annoying pest that Jason was forced to take along or mom wouldn’t let him go.

  But Tank never treated me that way. Nick and Luke would tease me, gently. Like a little sister. But if they got out of hand Tank would stick up for me. Not Jason. My brother was oblivious. But not Tank.

  I was almost sixteen the third time I fell in love with Tank Gunderson. And this was a different kind of falling. A head over heels hurt that I was pretty sure was never going to go away.

  That unrequited love that burns your soul and leaves you in ashes kind of hurt.

  My mom and I and my two little brothers had just finished shopping for school clothes when she decided to surprise my father at his work site.

  She drove through McDonald's and picked up a dozen cheeseburgers. Both Tank and Jason were working for my dad that summer. Building houses on the other side of town.

  I can still remember the way my heart had raced when Mom told me we were going to drop in on them. It wasn’t Jason, or even my dad I was excited to see, it was Tank.

  And see him I did.

  He was helping Jason hang rafters. My heart slid to a sudden stop when I spotted him. He was dressed in work boots, cutoff jeans, and no shirt with a tool belt hung low on his hips.

  I fell like a ton of bricks.

  Long, lean, and tan. With a hammer in his hand an
d a smirk on his face.

  The boy was pure male. Everything about him pulled at me. Those wide shoulders. The way he looked down from the top of the house and smiled at us. As if we were important and special. The way he moved, nimbly stepping from rafter to rafter like he was walking across a football field and not fifteen feet in the air.

  For a guy his size, he moved like a big cat. Sure of himself.

  It was enough to turn my heart into pure mush.

  But then the reality of the situation hit me as if someone had punched me in the gut.

  This was Tank. My brother’s best friend. I would always be in the friend one. Worse, almost in the little sister zone. It was enough to tear a girl’s heart into little pieces.

  There was the greatest guy in the world. Sweet, kind, hot beyond belief, and as far out of bounds as a guy could get. Life just wasn’t fair.

  “Marla,” my mother yelled from downstairs pulling me out of my daydreams. “Dinner is about ready. Set the table.”

  Sighing heavily, I rolled off my bed and headed downstairs. That was my lot in life. Chores, and my head lost in the clouds, thinking about a boy who would never really know I existed.

  Chapter Two

  Tank

  The alarm clock pulled me out of a deep sleep and a pretty cool dream about blond girls in tight jeans. I cursed under my breath and slapped at it until if finally stopped beeping.

  My mind slowly remembered that Christmas break was over and it was time to reenter the hell that was school. You’d think being a senior would have its perks. But really, nothing made up for the fact that I was going to spend the rest of the day bored out of my mind.

  Sighing to myself I swung my legs off the bed.

  My heart lurched. That all too familiar smell of cheap alcohol and stale Virginia Slims greeted me.

  Damn, not again.

  It didn’t happen too often, but when it did, my world got screwed up.

  Pulling on some jeans, I made my way out to the living room. Yep, like I thought. My mom was passed out on the couch, an empty bottle of vodka lying on its side on the floor. A half-empty pack of cigarettes on the table beside a full ashtray.

  Shaking my head, I started cleaning up. Being careful not to wake her. That would come later. Now, I just wanted to get rid of this stuff. Jason might stop by and offer me a ride, Luke was riding with Nick. But you never know who might show up.

  My stomach turned over as I got a trash bag and started filling it.

  Once I had the room somewhat presentable, I gently put my hand on my mom’s shoulder.

  “Mom, you need to go to bed.”

  “Henry?” my mom mumbled. I knew instantly that it was going to be bad. She only called me Henry when she was hungover. One of those floor crawling hangovers that lasted for days.

  Either that or when she was really drunk, and I was pretty sure the vodka had run out hours ago.

  “Mom, you need to go to your bed,” I repeated.

  She looked up at me with blurry eyes. Eyes that seemed to be empty. Lost to a night of pain.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “That’s okay Mom. Come on, I’ll get you to bed.”

  Kneeling down, I tried to put my arm around her to help her up. But she pushed me away and rolled over, grasping her head like it was going to explode.

  Rushing into the kitchen, I got the trash can and placed in next to her.

  She frowned at me then closed her eyes as she tried to stop the world from moving so quickly.

  “I don’t need that,” she hissed as she tried to sit up.

  “It’s just in case. Come one, you need to get to bed, I’ve got to get to school, and I can’t leave you here.”

  “Afraid your friends will see your mother passed out on the couch,” she sneered then caught the pain on my face at the truth of her words and had the decency to look contrite.

  Standing, she wobbled a few steps then reached out for my hand. I slipped an arm around her and walked her to her room at the end of the hall.

  Once she was safely under the blankets, I got a glass of water and a couple of Motrin and placed them on her bedside table. I knew it’d be hours before she woke up. But they would be there for her when she needed them.

  Sighing, I stepped back and shook my head. Was this happening more often? I wondered. It’d been a couple of weeks since the last time.

  My heart sank. As I grabbed a couple of pop tarts, I thought about my dad. He was due to get out of prison soon. We didn’t know exactly when yet. But it was soon. Too soon if you asked me. Was that what was pushing her off the deep end? Did she worry about that?

  We’d never talked about it. Never discussed what would happen when he got out. It was one of those taboo subjects that was never broached. A silent gorilla sitting in the middle of our life.

  Shoving the cold pop tarts down, I grabbed my bag and headed out the door. Making sure to lock it behind me. A burglar could have walked in and loaded up a truck with our stuff, and she wouldn’t have heard.

  Shaking my head, I started for Jason’s house.

  “Hurry up big guy,” he yelled as soon as he saw me. “We’re going to be late.”

  Amber, his girlfriend, stood next to him, her arms wrapped through his arm as she tried to fight off the cold morning chills.

  I looked up and gave them a weak smile.

  Jason stared for a moment, then shook his head and mumbled, “Damn,” under his breath.

  That was the thing about Jason. He always knew. No matter what I did, he knew.

  “Come on,” he said, softer this time.

  Amber looked back and forth between us, obviously trying to figure out what was going on. But Jason ignored her and held the door for her to get in.

  When I got to his truck, he punched me in the shoulder and then turned away.

  That was Jason. We didn’t talk about this crap. One of the many things I liked about him.

  The ride to school was quiet, each of us lost in our own little world.

  As we pulled into the student parking lot, my insides tightened up. Man, how I hated this place. Now that the football season was over. There wasn’t anything fun. Just books, lectures, and a thousand stupid kids. Each with their own little hell.

  “Are you going out for Track and Field again?” Jason asked me. See, he always knew what I was thinking. Here he was holding out a carrot to help me get through the day.

  “You run Tank?” Amber asked, her pretty eyes wide with obvious surprise. A guy my size wasn’t exactly known for running.

  “No,” I said, “field events, Shot Putt, and the discus,”

  “Tank’s got a chance at beating the state record this year.”

  “Wow, I didn’t know.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” I said. “I don’t know if I’m going to go out for track this year.”

  “Why,” she asked, obviously confused.

  I just shrugged my shoulders and stepped out of the truck. How could I answer her? I didn’t know why not. It just felt like I should be doing something else to get ready for graduation. Something with meaning.

  Deciding the best way to avoid any in-depth examination on the subject was to get the hell out of there, I quickly thanked Jason for the ride, nodded to Amber, and headed into the school.

  I caught Amber shoot Jason a quick look. He just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

  That was Jason, he had my back.

  The school was the same as it always was. Crowded, noisy, and a royal pain in the butt. That familiar smell of floor wax, cheap perfume, and too many kids washed over me.

  I took a deep breath and tried to center myself. I forced thoughts about my mom to the back of my brain. I pushed the worries about my dad to the side, and tried to focus on just getting through the day.

  As I walked down the middle of the hall, the kids moved out of my way. Parting like the Red Sea. They could see the scowl on my face and knew enough to stay out of my way. Being the biggest guy in scho
ol didn’t hurt.

  The noise washed over me as I thought about my next class. Boring Trigonometry. The fact that I might use the stuff someday working for Jason’s dad was the only thing that pushed me along.

  I had just turned a corner when I spotted Marla Turner. Jason’s little sister standing next to her locker. She stood stiffly, her hands at her side, curled into tiny fists. Oh crap, this was not good. My heart jumped

  Justin Weber was standing way too close, his silly smile trying to win her over. My heart jumped when he reached up and pushed her hair behind her ear. I thought I was going to jump out of my skin. How dare he? This was Marla, didn’t he know the rules. No one was allowed to mess with her. Especially not some tenth-grade punk.

  “Hey Marla,” I said as I stepped up next to the two of them.

  She looked up, surprised to see me there. For just a moment, I saw a sense of relief wash through her, then it was followed rather quickly by an angry scowl.

  I, being the idiot I was, ignored her and focused my attention on little Justine. I had him by a good twelve inches and seventy pounds of pure muscle.

  His face suddenly turned very white as he swallowed hard. Yep, like I thought. He knew the rules.

  Scowling at him, I waited for the idiot to finally figure it out.

  He gulped then said, “Uh, I’ll see you later Marla,” he turned and scurried away as quick as his little legs would carry him. He got about ten feet away and half way into the hall crowd before he looked back. The punk didn’t even have the sense to look at Marla. Instead, his nervous eyes found mine. Probably wondering if I was going to chase him.

  Seeing me still standing there, his shoulders slumped with relief as he got lost in the crowd.

  “You can’t do that,” Marla said as she punched me in the shoulder.

  “What?” I asked as she shook her hand to get rid of the numbness.

  “Scare them away. It isn’t fair.”

  “Come on, no way were you interested in that twerp. I saw you. I only came over to stop you from kicking his ass and ending up expelled. You owe me. Imagine what your dad would have said. Or worse, your mom.”