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The sound of the front door opening cuts me off.
“Mom?” The voice is deep and familiar.
“In the kitchen!” she shouts back, and her beautiful face splits into a wide smile when my brother strolls in.
“Leo.” I say my twin’s name in greeting with as little emotion as I can manage.
“Luna?” He stops mid-step, every bit of his shock showing on his face. The man is a terrible poker player.
“Wow. You still remember my name. I’m flattered.”
He regains the ability to move and rolls his eyes, then throws a quick glance behind him before moving further into the kitchen.
“There’s leftover pizza in the fridge if you’re hungry, baby.” My mother scoops her drink up and gestures with the glass before taking a sip.
Of course, she didn’t bother asking me if I wanted pizza.
“Thanks, Mom.” Leo dodges around me, heading straight for the food. Not acknowledging in any way that it’s been close to two years since we last saw each other. It takes everything I have not to pick at him as he settles his ass at the kitchen table without another look my way.
Now that I’m back here, I can’t help noticing the strange difference between this house and the Herberts’. Take away the actual appearance of the places, and you get down to what makes a home. The people. In Paige’s home, which I have an open invitation to visit whenever the whim takes me, you’ll find everyone joyfully, if frantically, in the midst of wedding preparations. It’s been that way for months, with Mrs. Herbert working to ensure the day is perfect for her daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law. And despite the stress that comes with all the planning, love fills every joke and bantering comment exchanged in those four walls.
Here, though, there’s no sense of urgency. Neither of these people know about the massive life event taking place in less than a week. That the baby of the family has excluded them from his celebration.
Mom sets down her drink and strolls over to my brother, where he sits devouring the leftover pizza without heating it up. She claps her hands on Leo’s shoulders and gazes at him with so much fondness I can guess at least half is a show for me.
That’s my mother. Displaying affection to one child in an attempt to hurt another.
“Look at you! Still a growing boy even at your age.”
I fight off the urge to mime gagging.
“Worked up an appetite on the job, huh? Uncle Mike better appreciate all the hard work you do.”
Leo grunts, and I shove my clenched fists into my pockets. Yeah, I’m sure Uncle Mike has him real busy.
Before a comment can snap off my lips, the front door shoves open, and my nerves tighten to pure steel. I need the reinforcement to deal with the new arrival.
“Fuck, I’m hungry.” A deep voice announces a second before the owner steps into the kitchen.
My father, ladies and gentlemen.
His blue eyes land on me, then widen, and when he paints on what other people have labeled as a charming smile, I just feel sick.
“Hey there, baby girl. Finally come home to your momma and daddy?” He hooks his thumbs in the loops of his jeans and stares down at me. Bill Lamont loves to stare down at people from his six-foot height. Loves pretending he’s some kind of big man.
Not for the first time, I’m glad I look nothing like him. That I didn’t inherit his pale skin, primary-color eyes, or yellow hair. That no one is ever going to point to me on the street and say, “There goes Bill Lamont’s daughter.”
I hate this man and the callous way he treated both me and my brothers when we were children.
But I hate him for what he’s done to Leo most of all.
“I’m not home,” I growl. Home is my house in Nashville. The place I bought with my own savings and filled with my own happiness.
He keeps his patronizing smile on. “Then why are you here? Need money? That fancy fighting you do not pay anymore? Maybe we could set up a bout down here for you. Put you in the ring with someone who knows how to hit.”
There’s so much wrong with his statement I don’t know where to start.
“I came here to talk to Mom.”
