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Bree cringed. “More like the fact that you call it a dump. Or the way you feel the need to… Well…”
“What? Spit it out.”
“Sometimes you text me from the bathroom and I know what you’re doing in there. It just feels weird.”
I laughed. “You’re ridiculous. I’m going to start sending you toilet selfies just to see you squirm. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like you need to be tamed. I rest my case.”
I threw a pillow at her a little harder than I intended. It connected with her forehead and sent her crashing backwards into the couch. “Yeah,” I said in a gritty voice. “Take that like a little bitch.”6LandonI poured steaming tea from the kettle, ignoring how much I hated the smell of the stuff. From the other room, I could hear my mom’s hacking coughs. She had started smoking just after the divorce with my dad, and a few weeks ago, we found out her cancer had come back. This would be the third time, and financially, my brother and I were almost completely tapped out from the first two.
Dear old dad had provided some perks to managing his clubs. We both had access to a tailor, and he’d provided us with top of the line clothing to look the part. He’d even given us access to company cars. Beyond what the clients could see, dad didn’t care if our stomachs were growling. It was punishment, in his own way. We hadn’t chosen him over mom after she cheated, and he never forgave us for it.
My brother, James, leaned against the counter to my side. He had a way of looking like a statue no matter where he was—always preoccupied and always deep in thought.
“She really doesn’t know?” he asked suddenly.
“Who, mom?” I asked.
“No. Andi.”
I wanted to pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I did. I planted my hands on the kitchen counter. “How do you tell somebody something like that?” I asked.
“Plain English?” James suggested in a bored voice.
“By the way,” I said in a mocking tone. “Your adoptive grandfather is actually my biological father. See, he got so jealous when my mom cheated on him that he disowned me and my brother. Instead of trying to reconcile things with us, he adopted you and your sisters and became the world’s number one fake grandfather. Meanwhile, he treated me and my brother like slaves to further his business interests, barely talking to us except when he had to.”
James gave a little shrug. “See? Easy.”
I chuckled darkly, then shook my head. “Fuck. Sometimes I forget how much I hated him. Just saying it out loud…”
“He was a bastard. Yeah.”
Mom coughed again, reminding me to get the tea finished. I dropped in four spoonfuls of sugar, because she liked it sickeningly sweet. My thoughts still raced while I stirred the sugar in. The part I couldn’t even bring myself to admit out loud was how I hated that he’d left us nearly destitute. No health insurance. No respectable salary. We had always assumed that there would be some kind of tipping point—some level of success within the club that would mean we’d paid our penance in his mind. That point never came.
He’d also known mom was sick, and he’d still let it happen. I was almost certain that part of him knew if he paid us more, we could have afforded better treatment. We could’ve taken her to the best specialists, gotten her in-home care instead of having to cart her back and forth to hospitals when she was puking her guts up. But the fucking asshole wanted her to die. I know he did.
Mom was sitting up on the couch, looking healthy and beautiful, even still in her late fifties. We hadn’t started treatment for this round yet, but she was scheduled to begin soon. I should’ve been worried about the money it was going to cost, but I knew where I’d get it.
I wondered if dad left me the ability to screw Andi out of her inheritance as one last “fuck you.” Maybe forcing her into this arrangement with me was his way of showing me how amazing she was. He knew I’d still do whatever I had to for mom, and he’d chosen Andi to stain my conscience.
I wasn’t just going to be stealing from his ghost. No. I would’ve loved that. Instead, I was ripping away her inheritance. Cheating her out of it.
“My body may be going to shit,” she said in a craggy voice. “But my ears still work. I heard you two talking in there.”
I looked down, then set the tea on the table beside her. She had been so young when she met William Wainwright and got pregnant with us. Young enough that I didn’t hold what she did against her—not anymore, at least.
