Ambushed by M.E. McAndrews
Chapter 3
Olivia
and the sun is just peeking through the hazy, dirt-smudged bedroom windows. It’s a brand new day, but I can't shake the nagging feeling that already something isn’t right.
I slide my hand over the blankets to reach for Seth, but he isn't in bed.
I rub the grogginess from my eyes and peek at the clock on the night stand. Shit! It's almost two in the afternoon. I groan, stretching my arms over my head, still beyond exhausted.
Unable to turn my brain off for even a moment, I tossed and turned all night. When I finally fell asleep, I dreamt I was drowning. The dark waters had been slowly rising, and before I knew it, they were filling my lungs. No matter how hard I thrashed or kicked, I couldn't get free. The more I struggled, the tighter the water held me. It was both peaceful and terrifying at the same time.
But I wasn't drowning, it's just the hot air in this small, stuffy room, and I can't hear the waves from my dream, just the buzzing of the small fan. I sit up, kicking the sheets off my legs. Great.
My shift at the bar starts in three hours.
I shuffle to the kitchen and rummage for something to eat.
“Can you not bang the cabinets?” Seth is sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over his laptop. He’s got a scruffy five o'clock shadow and his eyes are half open, his lower eyelids propped up from below by dark puffy bags. He must have been writing all morning. The top of his boxers sticks out above the waist band of his pants, and the blue glow from his laptop shines across his face.
He’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday.
“I'm just grabbing some food, Seth.”
He stares at me like I'm speaking a foreign language when I shake the box of mini wheats innocently.
“I've got to eat.”
“Well, don't do it so loud.”
I roll my eyes and grab my bowl, pouring the cereal into it, and walk to the window to peer out at the front yard.
“What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.” I take a bite of my mini wheats. It tastes like crap. I need some real food, but I can't go grocery shopping until I get paid next week. My tips have to go toward the house payment. I'm so tired of the constant stress and struggle of barely scraping by. I fantasize about going back to college, getting away from everything. I just want to escape.
Austin's flashy sports car pulls into the driveway on the other side of Springer Trace, the new road he built when he bought up all the property behind our house. My gaze follows him as the car travels up the driveway. He probably has no worries at all, except maybe stupid things like what new sports car he'll jerk off in. Prick.
“Can you not chew so loud?”
I turn around to see the tension in Seth’s face. The way his jaw clenches makes him look like a stranger to me. Someone I don't recognize or understand anymore.
I think we might both be strangers to each other.
“Are you serious?”
“I'm trying to write.” He gestures to the laptop.
“And I'm trying to eat some damn breakfast.”
“Yeah, breakfast at two in the afternoon,” he mutters under his breath.
I don't answer. Ever since we moved back here, he's become combative, biting my head off no matter what I say. But his frustration really got bad when the mega mansions started popping up. We’re like minnows surrounded my sharks. My gaze returns to the window. Austin is standing outside in front of his porch on his phone, laughing so loud it carries into our yard.
“What the hell are you staring at?” Seth asks, his hands curling into tight fists.
“Nothing,” I lie.
I watch Austin strut up the steps to his huge front porch, like he’s some sort of silver-screen celebrity. Though I can’t see it, I’m sure he’s got a cocky smile, like he knows I'm watching him. There’s always a smirk smeared across his face, and it sends shivers down my spine.
I spin back around, catching Seth's gaze.
“You’re always looking at him, Olivia,” Seth says. The anger radiates from him like those massive outdoor space heaters at the bar.
“What?”
“You. I see you watching him from the window all the fucking time!”
“Seth!” I study him, baffled at the accusation. “I stare because he's always out there, living his perfect life in his perfect mansion.”
Seth storms toward the window and slams it shut with a loud thud. He returns to his laptop, dropping his head into his hands.
“I can't write in my own damn house because of him.”
I take a deep breath. I need to get control of the conversation before Seth blows up. “Just calm down—you're clearly under—”
Seth slams his hand on the kitchen table, causing the dishes to rattle. “Calm down? Calm down? That asshole is ruining our lives and you want me to calm down?”
“He's pissing me off too, but we can't let it get between us.”
“You don't understand, Liv,” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in frustration. “I was offered a book deal, a chance to finally make something of myself, but I can't write a damn word with that asshole blasting his music and throwing loud parties every damn day!”
“Seth, I understand. This is my home, too. It's the only thing we have left of my family.” I place the cereal bowl down and step forward. “I know Austin is a nuisance, but we can't let him get to us like this. Please try to focus on the opportunity you have in front of you.”
“Opportunity? Liv, we're barely making it as it is. How are we supposed to survive on my book advance? And what happens when that runs out and I still can't write?” He starts pacing back and forth. “We can't afford to move, and we definitely can't afford to fight him in court. We're drowning in debt. How are we going to cover it all?”
“I don't know, but we'll figure it out. We always do,” I say, reaching out to touch Seth's arm. “For now, focus on your writing.”
He yanks it away. “That's the problem! I can't!”
My patience with him fades. “Well, I don't know—wear headphones,” I snap.
He stops pacing, dropping his hands, and glowers at me. “You're not taking me seriously, are you?”
“What? I'm trying to help.”
“Olivia, you're missing the point entirely. You're always at that damn bar.” Seth's voice gets louder, more agitated. “You don’t know what it’s like around here. How the hell am I supposed to write with all the disruptions around here?”
“Seth, I'm sorry.” I try to backtrack, but I've lost him.
“No, you're not sorry. You don't understand what it's like to have a dream and have it ripped away from you. To have your passion taken away because we can't even afford to live in this shit hole house.”
“That's not fair. I'm doing everything I can to make ends meet.”
“It's not enough, Olivia. It's never enough. And that asshole next door is making me crazy. If I can’t write, we’ll never have enough to keep this place.”
“I don't know what to do, Seth. I'm trying.”
“Well, try harder. This is your childhood home. You're the one who wanted to move here and give up our perfect apartment that cost a quarter as much.”
“That’s not fair, Seth! Both my parents were sick. You agreed to this when they passed away. You and me, we’re going to make this our home for our family.”
“And now that rich fuck and his development company have driven the taxes through the roof.” He shakes his head, glancing down at the floor. “I can't keep living like this.”
“I can't believe you're blaming me for all this.”
“I'm not blaming you, Liv. I just… I just don't know what to do anymore.”
Silence settles over the kitchen. What the hell has happened to us? It wasn't supposed to turn out like this. The financial stress and the constant fighting.
Seth massages his temple and lets out an exasperated sigh. “I didn’t mean to blow up, Liv.”
“I get it.”
He points to his laptop. “I’ve got to get this shit finished, so we won’t have to worry. Not anymore.”
I’ve heard him say that before. So many times. Seth doesn't utter another word as I turn away and head to the bathroom, where I crank on the hot water in the shower.
Small droplets of water cascade over my face and cling to my skin. I close my eyes and let the water melt away the cold of the day. I want to stay in here forever. The weight of everything bears down on me, and I can't shake the feeling that my life is slipping away.
There's too much going on. I run my hands over my face and try to collect my thoughts. Nothing makes sense anymore. I thought moving back to my hometown was going to bring a sense of normalcy for Seth and me. What happened to that?
I face the shower head, letting the droplets pelt my face. The image of Austin Blackwater's smug face fills my mind, and I can almost hear his mocking laughter. He's been nothing but trouble since he moved in. He’s trying to smother us, suffocate us off this land as if we’re vermin he can’t stand to look at.
I close my eyes, trying to focus on something else—anything but the sweltering heat and the mounting tension between Seth and me. But it's no use. All I can think of is how, if we don't stop Austin Blackwater, I'm afraid our dreams of staying in this house will be gone forever.