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Pearl looks at me. For guidance? I don’t know. And has Brad really done this to be a jerk? It’s worked. He’s a full-blown asshole right now. My lips straighten as Pearl turns to Beau, obviously looking for some help.
“This is Allison,” Beau blurts, and I cringe. “She’s . . . umm . . .” She can’t say it. Can’t say the words that’ll confirm what Pearl is thinking. Can’t deliver the blow. I throw a filthy look at Brad. The immature piece of shit.
“I’m a friend of Brad’s,” Allison says, full of diplomacy. “Nice to meet you . . .”
“Pearl,” she replies, forcing a smile, coming down the stairs toward Allison’s offered hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Allison laughs. “Do you all live here?”
Jesus. “Not all,” I say, watching as James rubs at his forehead, stressed. We’re not the only ones who are going to kill Brad. A horrible silence falls once again. Unbearable. I speak to Brad through my filthy glare, ordering him to get Allison out of here. The bastard. Pearl’s held herself beautifully, but I can see the hurt in her eyes. We were right to be worried.
“Your cab’s waiting.” Brad collects Allison, slipping an arm around her waist—again, bastard—and walks her out of the house. Oxygen only returns to the space when the door closes behind them. But the silence remains.
Until Daniel comes bounding down the stairs. “Hey, who was that woman coming out of Uncle Brad’s bedroom?”
If I cringe anymore this morning, I’m going to need Botox pronto. Or a fucking face lift. Pearl’s eyes widen slightly before she corrects it. “That, kid, was your uncle Brad finally getting his shit together.” She smiles and takes the rest of the stairs down, passing through the middle of us, our stunned stares following. “I’ve found some great pieces online that’ll work amazingly at the beach club so I’m going to check them out at the store.”
Oh. I look at Beau, who appears as perplexed as I am. Maybe we’re wrong. Pearl seems . . . absolutely fine.
“You can take Fury,” James calls to Pearl, making her slow to a stop and look back.
“Why?”
“Yes, why?” Beau asks, a million questions in her eyes.
“Yes, why,” I ask too, my alarm bells ringing.
James, obviously feeling ambushed, takes on an edge of scary. It’s an obvious attempt to try and force us to back off. It would perhaps work with Pearl. With Beau and me? Not a chance. It does with Daniel, though. He scrams, racing into the TV room.
“No TV or Xbox until you’ve done your schoolwork!” I yell after him.
“I already did.”
“Damn it,” I hiss. “Why, James? Why does Pearl need to take Fury?”
“Because I said so.”
“Not good enough,” Beau interjects, confronting him, toe to toe. James’s face switches from James to The Enigma in a heartbeat. I can’t say I’m pleased to see him. “What’s going on?” she presses.
I watch, interested, as James searches for an answer under the watchful eyes of three women. “Just do what you’re damn well told for once,” he snaps.
“You’ve not told me to do anything,” Beau retorts. “Why does Pearl need Fury?”
James takes Beau’s arm and starts guiding her up the stairs. “We’re taking a shower.”
“Not on your life.” She shrugs him off and returns to the bottom of the stairs.
Poor man looks flummoxed. Then mad. He points up the stairs. “I’m going to take a shower. Don’t leave me waiting.” Off he stomps, moody, and Beau snorts her disgust.
“The man is deluded.”
“I’m worried,” I admit.
“Should I be worried?” Pearl asks, looking between us.
“Not at all.” I shake my head, scolding myself for instilling apprehension into her. But is it unwarranted? “Fury’s great company.”
Pearl nods, obviously not convinced, and backs up into the kitchen. I don’t miss the fleeting flick of her eyes to the front door before she disappears. I’m so confused by the whole situation this morning but, worryingly, we have bigger concerns right now. What the hell is going on?
