AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Suddenly it’s like no time has passed at all since I left. Her demanding tone, the accusation, and her irritation are all still there. So is the playful lilt to her tone that she tries so hard to cover up.
“Can’t I check on my only sister? Here I was thinking you’d be excited to see me after all these years.”
“I am.” She says it confidently. “But I’m surprised and confused and to be honest, a little frightened by what I just witnessed. I mean…” Blowing out a breath, she shakes her head, trying to reconcile what she just walked in on with the brother who all but died years ago. “What the hell, Rem?”
“I really didn’t know she was your friend.” I promise, though I’m not sure it would have made much of a difference if I’d known. If Claire is going to be around my sister—one of only two people left in the world that I give a damn about— I’m going to have her vetted. “I always react first and ask questions later. I guess it’s lucky you didn’t bring a man home instead, or we’d be cleaning his blood off the floor.”
“As if.” Rhea snickers, nudging me in the ribs as best as she can given our height difference. It appears she hasn’t grown at all since I’ve been gone—at least one thing about her has stayed the same. “You know you’d be calling Monica to come clean up the mess.” She turns to look at me then, realization dawning on her face. “Does she know you’re here?”
“I saw her.” I nod, making it clear that I have nothing more to say about the matter. But I don’t have to say anything else because Monica appears in the next instant as though our conversation summoned her. She waits for us to give her our full attention, opening and closing her mouth like she isn’t sure how to form words anymore.
“Natasha’s here?” She says it like a question, wringing her hands together nervously and avoiding catching my sister’s eye.
“Fuck.”
In all the intensity of the last ten minutes, I forgot that I’d been out on the balcony, having a drink while I waited for my former lover to come try and ease some of the tension I’m drowning in. And then a half-dressed blonde sauntered into my room and all thoughts of Natasha went out the window.
“Natasha?” Rhea spits the word like it’s poison. Her hazel eyes are so wide and full of rage that they look like they’re about to pop out of her head. “Are you fucking serious, Remington?”
“Get rid of her,” I demand, looking at Monica. She does a good job of maintaining a stoic face, but I know her tells. She bites her lip, pulling it between her teeth and worrying it back and forth. Is she more scared of Natasha than she is of me? She surely doesn’t relish the idea of telling Natasha that she’s been summoned in the dead of night to see me after all these years, only to be turned away when she actually gets here.
“Sir?”
The word sounds strange on her tongue, but I know what it means.
Monica waits for me to say that I didn’t mean it, that I’ll go talk to Natasha myself. But Rhea is home, and there’s an alluring, barely dressed woman in my bedroom. I’m not taking Natasha up there now, and my need for her is gone just as if it never existed. I simply watch Monica, unwavering, as she turns to Rhea.
“Don’t look at me,” Rhea says sharply, folding her arms in a show of obstinance. “I haven’t seen her in years. She should have known better than to come around here regardless of who called for her.”
“Send her home.” I say calmly. My tone is even, but it leaves no room for argument. There’s a fine line between invoking a little healthy fear and causing sheer terror, and right now, I want to stay in the narrow margin as best I can. It isn’t the time for games, and Monica isn’t the type that I want to intimidate any more than I have to. I already have her allegiance just by virtue of my family name.
Monica nods, swallowing her fear, and turns to do as she’s told.
“Really?” Rhea stares daggers at me, her jaw set in anger. “You called Natasha to come over?”
“No.” I lean on the counter, the ghost of a grin flickering on my lips. “I had Monica call Natasha to come over.”
“You’re disgusting, Remington Boudreaux.” She says, shaking her head. But her anger is stretched thin over her amusement.
I shrug. “I was trying to kill some time. I expected you to be out a bit longer.”
“Yeah, well, our night got cut short. And thank God it did, because if it hadn’t, you’d be screwing Natasha in the bed where my best friend is sleeping! I can’t believe you had the audacity to—” She stops talking and I look up to see Claire in the doorway, her hair in a messy pile on top of her head. A few pieces frame her face, and now that I can see her in the golden light from the kitchen chandelier, she’s even more beautiful than I realized. It’s an unassuming beauty, effortless. Unfortunately, she is also considerably more clothed, wearing cotton shorts and a shapeless top that conceals the delicate curves of her body. I want to know what she’s hiding under all that fabric, to see her without her desperately trying to cover herself.
I don’t even realize the quiet is awkward until she tentatively pierces it. “So… you’re Remy?” Claire concludes, taking a barstool at the counter next to where Rhea is leaning back, her arms crossed.
“Yes,” I smirk. “I suppose we weren’t properly introduced.”
A pink tint rises up on her skin, spreading like a wine stain over her fair cheeks. “I suppose not.”
I’m not sure what Claire knows of me or my strained relationship with the rest of the family. I only know that she’s been sleeping in my bed for the last three years, and a strange sort of homesickness washes over me as I realize the missed opportunity.
“So, you never answered my question. What are you doing here?” Rhea demands with her head tilted a little as if she’s trying to read my thoughts. “Besides harassing Claire, I mean.”
I feel the air rush out of the room all at once. I knew she would ask. This conversation is inevitable. But that doesn’t make breaking my little sister’s heart any easier.
My head fills with euphemisms, a dozen little cloaks I could throw over my words to try and soften their impact. But I’m not a man of words—not anymore. Once upon a time, I would have all the right things to say and would have prepared myself for this moment. Now, I’m a man of action, which is why I chartered the jet and made the journey here, despite how much I loathe everything about this place. Phone calls have kept her at bay for the last few years, but they won’t cut it now. I have to tell her this in person.
Claire watches me like she knows what I’m about to say, but I can’t handle the distraction of her right now. I train my eyes on my sister, bracing myself against her impending reaction. It’s best to just rip off the band-aid.
