AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She was a siren, calling ships into the rocks and a watery death, if the town was to be believed. But I wasn’t superstitious. I didn’t believe in fate or curses or destiny—life was what we made it. We had what we took.
And I was going to take that farm.
Jo too, if I played it right.
The challenge was acquiring their rights, sure, but now that I’d gotten a glimpse of Jo Blum, the game had new stakes. I didn’t realize I’d enjoy flipping her so much, but already I looked forward to seeing her when we were apart, if not just to find new and interesting ways to prove her wrong. Mostly to enjoy the volley of conversation that felt more like foreplay than an argument.
I’d listened to the Blum sisters sing all last night, and every time Jo took the microphone, that strange sensation rooted me to the spot. She’d avoided me the rest of the night, and I didn’t chase her down, opting instead for the occasional snag of her gaze, turning my tractor beams up to eleven. By the way she kept eyeing my lips, I knew the window was open. And I knew I wanted to know what her lips tasted like just as much as I had a feeling she wanted to know the same.
For the first time since getting to Lindenbach, I had a shot at everything I wanted—the rights to these farms, the outrageous bonus, and a romp with Jo.
My phone rang as I was bringing the last bite of biscuit to my mouth, but on seeing my father’s name on the screen, my appetite disappeared. Dread took its place in my gut.
“Checking up on me?” I asked.
“I drew the short straw. What’s taking so long?”
“The bee farm. They’re going to take some work to flip.”
“And the others?”
“The right number of zeros on the check should do it. Just not the bee farm.”
He scoffed. “Hippies. What’s your plan?”
I sat back in the chair to a creak. “The youngest sister is the way in. Just need to get past her, and I’m in.”
“I need to know how much time it’s going to take.”
“Sorry, I left my crystal ball in my other pants.”
“Smartass,” he spat. “They’re impatient to get moving, and this is on your shoulders. I’m not going to save you.”
“When have you ever saved me?”
“Only every day of your miserable life, Grant. Just get it done for once, on time.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, the words flat, dry.
Which pissed him off, as intended. “I don’t know why I ever agreed to groom you for this.”
“Because you only had one kid to abuse.”
“Didn’t get a chance for more, did I?”
Because you killed her, was the subtext. And there was never a time it didn’t hurt. Not once.
“Well, it’s been great catching up,” I said, outwardly unfazed.
“Don’t call me if you need help.”
Before I could respond, he hung up.
I slid my phone across the table and picked up the last of my biscuit, but rage had boiled my guts and dried my mouth, the environment inhospitable for food.
So I pushed back from the table, storming to my suitcase for running shorts and a shirt. It was a thousand degrees outside, but if I didn’t run, I was going to damage Salma’s property. She didn’t deserve a fist-sized hole in the wall just because my dad was an asshole.
Shoes on, I took off. I’d left everything but what I was wearing in the house, needing one stretch of time when I was untethered. Within the span of a minute, sweat was sliding down my body. I turned up a gravel road framed by barbed wire split rail fencing, focusing on the rhythm of my breath and the crunch of my shoes against rock.
You killed her.
He’d done this since I was a child, using her death as leverage on my sense of self and purpose. Maybe it was a means to control me. I could never be sure.
An embolism killed her within minutes of my first breath, leaving my father alone in the world with me.
I had few childhood memories of him—my happiest memories involved either the troop of nannies who raised me or my friends at boarding school and college. I’d spent holidays with friends or at school alone until I was eighteen, and ever after, I traveled with those same friends, most who had parents like mine. Absent at best.
All the closest of those friends had gotten married and moved away, too busy with their new families to go to Italy for a month during the holidays. And the people I was left with were proximity friends—they were nearby and single. The women in my life fell into the same pool of convenience. I was too busy to form real, lasting relationships and out of town too often to try to date. I’d never found anyone I cared about enough to drag through long distance even though a few wanted to. Which was a sign on its own to bail.
