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They both crack up laughing, and my mouth twitches with a grin. I fucking love my brothers.
CHAPTER TEN
Jordyn
I’ve been avoiding my mother. I’ve barely seen her this week, thanks to some charity she’s working on, and it’s been glorious. My father practically lives at his office. So much so that he stays at the apartment on the top floor of the Astor building that houses his law firm that was handed down to him from my grandfather.
Last weekend, when I snuck away to stay with Ryder, it opened my eyes to a lot of things. So, while my mother has been preoccupied, it’s given me some time to think. I’ve let her control me my entire life. I’m an adult, and I can make my own choices. Sure, the threat against Ryder and his family is still very much there, and I can’t push her where he’s concerned, but I can push back. I made the decision, lying in Ryder’s arms, that I’m going to fight for us.
To do that, I need to start fighting for me.
I need to start standing up to my mother. In her eyes, she’ll see it as defiance, but in mine, it’s going to be living my life the way I want. Maybe if I’m lucky, she’ll give up on me and set me free from her clutches.
If only.
The fight for me starts today. That’s why I’m sitting at the dining room table with my phone scrolling through social media while eating a bowl of Lucky Charms.
“What on earth are you eating? Put your phone away at the table.”
“Lucky Charms. Want some?” I smile up at my mother.
She wrinkles her nose in disgust. “That junk will go straight to your thighs, Jordyn. You know better. You should have some fruit.”
“I didn’t want fruit.” My heart pounds as I talk back to her. It’s not something I’ve ever done. I’ve been afraid of being me in my own home for years. Speaking of my own home, it’s time for me to look for a place and a job. I’m going crazy sitting around this empty mansion all day long.
My mother takes her seat at the table, and I cross my legs in the chair, knowing it will drive her insane.
“Jordyn,” she scolds. “Sit like a lady and what on earth are you wearing?”
I look down at the T-shirt I have on and grin. It’s the one I took from Ryder. It’s old and faded. It’s plain black, but it’s so faded it's gray. “A T-shirt.”
“It’s ratty. Where on earth did you get such a thing?” Her nose literally points toward the air with all of her stuck-up presence.
“It’s Ryder’s.” The truth falls from my lips and it’s freeing.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch her stiffen. “Jordyn.” Her voice is low and holds all kinds of warning. “You remember what we talked about?”
“It’s a shirt, Mother.” I roll my eyes because I know she hates it.
“What has gotten into you?”
I shrug. “I was sitting here eating my breakfast minding my own business. You’re the one who started in on me.”
“You won’t talk to me like that,” she seethes. “I am your mother. You will speak to me with respect.”
“Respect is earned, Mother.” I take a big bite of my cereal, slurping the milk off the spoon, knowing the sound is the equivalent to nails on a chalkboard for her.
“Watch yourself, Jordyn.”
She’s pissed, which is what I was hoping for.
“You know. I heard that they lost a patient in the emergency room over at Willow River General. Wouldn’t it be terrible if it were somehow that Kincaid’s fault? You know, the male nurse.” She says “nurse” as if it isn’t a noble profession. Nurses bust their asses day in and day out to save lives. My mother could only dream of being that noble.
“I hadn’t heard,” I reply, trying to be aloof and keep my heart rate steady at the mention of Brooks Kincaid.
“Shame,” she utters, but thankfully, she doesn’t say more.
I have to stop letting her walk all over me. It’s going to be hell living with her like this, but I’ll do anything to be with Ryder. If she cuts me off like she threatened to do with my brother, I’m in the clear and so are all the Kincaids, at least I hope so anyway. I’m out of ideas, but I know I can’t sit back and let this happen. I can’t continue to let her treat me as if I’m a show pony. However, her not-so-subtle reminder hangs in the air like a thick, heavy smoke of a forest fire between us.
I shrug as if her threat doesn’t have my insides shaking. I finish my breakfast under the watchful and hateful eye of my mother. I can feel her glare, but I continue to ignore it and pretend as if the hatred rolling off her in waves doesn’t affect me.
