Betrayal
Chapter 25

Copyright© 2011 by michael-wolfam

"What? Busted by who? Oh crap, we're gonna get it now," Finn whispered back to Liv.

She giggled in response.

A figure sitting on the wraparound porch rose from a rocking chair and walked toward them, carrying a shotgun. "What did I tell you about using protection?" demanded Marcy Driscol.

"Mrs. Driscol, we weren't. Ah, that is to say, we aren't having se-," Finn stammered.

"Shut up, Finn!" Liv warned through clenched teeth. "Sorry, Grannie, my car broke down and Finn gave me a ride home."

"You know I told you not to ride on one of them motorcycles without full body protection! You want to end up a cripple like that Christopher Reeves boy?"

"That was a horse, Grannie, not a motorcycle. You know that."

"It's all the same young lady; and who's your friend with the guilty conscience there; and why did he say you weren't having sex? You look like you've been rolling in the hay with the entire football team. And where's that car of yours?"

Liv blushed and sighed. "Grannie, it's been a really long day. I'll tell you all about it after I get a shower." She motioned to the red-faced man beside her. "And this is Finn. You remember Finn Andrews from high school, don't you?"

"Finn Andrews?" Grannie squinted through her glasses in his direction. "Isn't he that boy who liked to shoot at ducks in the park with those model rockets?"

"Yes, Grannie, that's him, but I think he was like ten years old. I'm pretty sure he doesn't do that anymore. Can we go inside, please? I got into an accident and a cop is gonna come by soon to talk with me."

At the mention of her beloved granddaughter being in an accident, Grannie dropped the shotgun and rushed over to Liv to inspect her. Satisfied that she was not too banged up, she led Liv into the house and helped her wash out the cuts on her arms and face.

Finn followed, picking up the discarded, single shot .410 and placing it just inside the front door. After cleaning Liv as well as she could, Grandma Driscol ordered, "Young lady, you rush upstairs and shower. Then come down here and tell me all about it. I'll heat up some chicken fingers. You missed the wedding, so I brought a couple of extra plates home. You would've loved it; the best man had a black eye and everything!"

At the mention of chicken fingers, Liv's stomach rumbled audibly. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten. "Yeah, I already knew about the black eye. I gave it to him!"

"Did he deserve it?"

"Yep."

"That's my girl. Now go shower."

"Okay, Grannie. You know how much I love those chicken fingers; I'll be right back." She started running up the stairs and then halted, looking her grandma in the eyes. "Oh, and Grannie, don't run Finn off, he needs to talk to the cop too!" Liv turned and dashed upstairs.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Finn asked, settling himself into a chair at the wooden, dining room table. The kitchen was starting to smell amazing. Coffee was brewing and chicken was in the microwave. Finn hadn't realized just how tired he was. Caffeine would be just the ticket.

"Oh, I think you've done quite enough for the evening, young man. Thank you for helping my granddaughter." Grannie pushed a plate of chicken strips in his direction.

As soon as water could be heard rushing through the pipes, she turned to face him, hands on her hips. "I better not find that you had anything to do with harming one hair on her pretty little head, mister. Liv is the only living family I got, and if you mess with her, I will bury you so deep in the mountains that no one will ever find your body. I don't care if you are some kind of GI Joe American Hero or not!"

 
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