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Mum chuckles, nodding her head in agreement. “Teenagers, in general, are hard, love.”
“But at least when it’s a teenage boy, you’re only worried about one dick. When it’s a teenage girl, you’ve got to worry about all the other dicks!”
Dad’s signature no-shits-given comment sets everyone off again.
Mum sobers first and indelicately opens a can of worms I’d have rather she left closed. “And what about you, Summer? Did you ever want to settle down? Have kids?”
I shoot my meddling mother a dark look as Summer blushes and nibbles furiously on her bottom lip.
“Mum, I think you—”
But Summer cuts me off before I can berate my mum. “Of course, I’d have loved to live that dream, Clary. A husband who adored me. A gaggle of kids to run me ragged. A home to call my very own. However…”
She trails off to clear her throat. Her eyes are serious, her face wistful. And my heart clenches painfully at all we’ve lost.
Her brow knits together, and she glances around the table to find all eyes on her. Visibly sitting up taller in her seat, she continues. “When something isn’t in the cards for you, you learn to be grateful for the life you’ve been given.”
Rising to stand, she pushes her chair back and plucks her handbag from the table. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, everyone. I need to use the facilities.”
The space is silent except for the sound of the girls eating at the kids’ table as we all watch her leave with a stiff spine. Pride flows through me, followed rapidly by anger once she disappears from sight.
Twisting about in my seat, I round on my mother to find her shame-faced, but that doesn’t stop me.
“What thefuckwas that about, Mum? Was it really necessary to get your two cents in?”
I stand, pushing my chair back as I do, and allow my gaze to sweep around the table, taking in the various faces of my family. My sisters are varying emotions, from Rachel’s anger to Cassidy’s frustration to Alyse, whose face is tear-stained as she mumbles, “Damn hormones.”
Our father is sat at the head of the table, sadness marring his beloved features. His big brown eyes are glistening with tears, and he rises to stand with a sustaining palm out.
“Sit, son.”
I swallow roughly but do as he bids.
“I’ll say this, and I’ll say no more on the matter.” His eyes scan everyone’s faces, taking a moment to rest on each one of us before he continues. “That girl's reasons for living her life are her own. She was entrusted to me—tous—and somewhere along the way, I failed her. I failed her parents. Iwon’tfail her again.”
Mum stands and walks around the table to Dad’s side. “Okay, Sutton. You have my word. I’ll let sleeping dogs lie.”
Dad nods, allowing her to help him back into his seat. His hands are trembling with anger. Perhaps it’s frustration or even sadness. Either way, I’m thankful for his words, as I know now that there’ll be no more mention of the past.
As we settle down to attempt to resume our family meal, Dad’s phone chimes with a text. Then mine vibrates in my ass pocket, and like dominos falling, everyone’s phones begin to sound with notifications. We glance from one another around the table, everyone wearing the same worried expression.
No one moves until my phone rings. I pluck it out to find Ford’s name.
An ominous feeling fills my chest, knowing he’s at the front gate, checking security footage with Dad’s head of security, Thomas, from an attempted break-in at one of my parents’ country properties last week.
I slide the button across and hear the commotion before I’ve even uttered a word. Ford’s voice is barely audible over the din.
“Cade? Cade, I’m at the front gate. There’s been a leak to the media that you’re here with Summer. The hounds are at the gate.”
I stand, pacing away from my watching family while cursing the fucker who leaked our whereabouts. We’d been fortunate enough to escape 45 Park Lane by using the staff entrance, thereby avoiding the circus outside the front door. “We can just use the entrance on the other side of the property. We can easily avoid them—”
“No, Cade. It’s a whole lot worse than that. Layla’s here. She’s the one who leaked your whereabouts.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How the hell didsheknow where we are?
“What does she want?” It’s always been about what she can get, so she’ll undoubtedly have a bargaining chip.
Ford’s voice is clearer now, and I can only assume he’s been able to move further away from the media onslaught. His words make my blood run cold when he speaks again. “She wants inside, or she claims she’s got a juicy story about Archer and Summer that the media would love to get their hands on.”
