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“My mom and dad haven’t been in the same room in years. It’s not going to be pretty.”
The corner of my mouth tips into a smile, and I crawl over to her, wrapping her up in my arms.
“So, this is it?” I ask.
“This is it.”
“We put this thing to rest.”
“Sort of. The rest of it will never fully go away. You and your family will be targeted if you stay with me. The photos and the magazines. It will never fully go away.”
“Come live with me,” I blurt, and she tips back to look at me. “We can come back here anytime you want. Stay here as often as you like. But Nova, come live with me. We can get a place in Raston. I’ll move my business to Morleau if you need a bigger place. If you want a city, I’ll move to Vancouver. I don’t give a fuck. I just want you.”
Her mouth opens to answer, but I kiss her instead. I don’t want to hear the answer, and silencing her with my lips on hers calms the intense thud of my heart. I’m twenty. Barely out of childhood myself, doing something I never thought I’d do. A house, a business, a solid woman, a family, a fucking cat. I want it all, and I want it with her.
“Don’t answer yet,” I whisper against her mouth. “Let’s get this blackmail shit done with first. Let’s have a baby here. Then we’ll talk.”
She nods but won’t take her eyes off me.
“I’m going to call my sister, okay? See how she’s doing. Can I meet you downstairs?”
She gets up and moves to the door, pausing on the threshold, and I take a minute to admire her. Seeing her like this clicks together the pieces in my mind, and I see her digging for the strength she’s always had.
Her smile is soft and timid, but she has no idea how powerful she really is.
After a quick shower in a bathroom that puts Jet’s to shame, I dial Pris’s number and wait.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey, so I don’t know if you’ve seen—”
“Those pictures?” Pris is the queen of unemotional. She, Tabby, and I are much more like Mom than Dad. Implosive. While Xan, Jet, and Del are more explosive.
“Yeah.”
“I saw them. You can’t tell it’s me.” She doesn’t sound fazed, but with Pris, I can never honestly tell.
“So, it is you?” I ask, chuckling. “Priscilla Stryker, you groupie.”
Her laugh is quiet and restrained, but I’m glad it’s her and not Del or Tab. Del would come out swinging, and Tabby would fold in on herself. Dru picked the wrong sister for this attack.
“It was a dumb summer fling. I’m not worried,” She assures me.
“That’s why you got all salty on Christmas, isn’t it?” I try to stumble into my jeans one-handed and give up putting her on speaker and setting the phone on the nightstand while I change.
“I can’t believe you remember that.”
“I do. I’m just checking with you on it, though. Nova and I are working on fixing this before anything else comes out.” I whip a shirt over my head and scoop up my phone again, flopping down on the plush duvet.
“I’m fine. I’m about ready to come down there and tell this bitch what I think of her.” I can just imagine what that would look like. Less violent than if it were Del, but the outcome would be just as gruesome, I think. No one can make a person feel small like Pris. Words are her weapon.
“Hopefully, you don’t have to. It’s all going to be taken care of today.” There’s a slight wobble of hesitation in my voice, but I manage to force my stomach to settle.
“Good. Keep us updated.”
I hang up and move to the hall, checking both ways, disoriented in the space. It’s like being in a mall—everything is echo-y and empty. There’s nothing warm or cozy about this house at all. Scrubbed clean in every corner, but the personality got mopped up with the rest of it.
I jog down the steps and voices ring out from somewhere around past the kitchen.
