THE STENCHÂ of smoke lingered on the stairs, growing stronger near the room where we kept momâs things. I turned from the closed door and made for Calebâs room, opening the door as I stepped inside. âWhoâs the female?â
âDepends,â he muttered, playing COD, and winced as he was killed before glancing my way. âYou talking about the mother flirting with dad downstairs, or the kid in the bedroom?â
âKid?â I glanced toward the doorway.
He just shrugged, making stupid fucking faces as he battled. âLooked like a kid to me.â
âWhat the fuck are they doing here?â
âHell if I know. Now piss off, I got a mission to complete.â
I strode from his room, walking past his desk and tipping over a half-full can of beer as I left.
My brother roared, lunging as it spilled all over his brand new console.
I didnât like this, didnât like them being here. Didnât like any female being here. Weâd just buried our damn mom, for Christâs sake, and here he was, entertaining guests.
I breathed in the bitter stench of smoke and went to my room. I yanked off my shirt, unbuttoned my jeans, and shoved them off before climbing into bed. But I couldnât sleep, still wound up from driving through the city. No matter how many hours I spent out there, I still couldnât get the image of mom out of my head. Her gaunt face and haunted eyes looked nothing like the real her. I lifted my arm, rested my head on it, and stared at my ceiling.
â¦her last words lingered in my head. They were just a whisperâ¦one tiny plea.
As if Iâd forget.
Laughter drifted through the air, coming from downstairs. My fatherâs laughter. I should go down there, just as I am, see if he laughs then. I turned over as agony moved through me.
He didnât know what mom was like. Didnât really see her at the endâ¦
No, they took the easy way, hovering in the doorway of that room weâd set up like a damn hospital downstairs. Leaving her last days to be filled with the medical staff heâd paid to keep her companyâ¦and me.
I couldnât leave her.
Iâd held her hand and stroked her skin, watching while the cancer took her from us.
The deep seduction of a womanâs laughter cracked through the air. I winced, my pain growing colder until it didnât sting anymore, and as I closed my eyes and willed sleep to come, I answered her. âYeah, Mom, Iâll make sure we all remember.â
âWhat the fuck is she still doing here?â Caleb stepped further into the bedroom.
I stood in the doorway and looked at her things scattered across the bed. Boxes. Clothes. Some with the tags still attached. âHow the hell should I know?â
âHe really wants us to haul this to the garage?â Caleb yanked the coverings free, exposing momâs machines.
âThatâs what he said.â Anger seethed inside me, coiling like a snake in my chest as I moved closer and bent to shove her new jeans and iPhone case aside. Two days. Thatâs all it had taken. I glanced at the brand new MacBook sitting on the pillow, then to the white cotton fabric edged with lace peeking out from under the sheet.
Those werenât new.
Caleb lifted the end of the machine and dragged it backwards until he smacked into me.
âYou going to help, or you just going to fucking stand there?â he snarled.
I picked up the panties.
Then I looked at the black plastic garbage bag still sitting on the corner of the bed. âI think you can manage.â
âWhat the fuck are you doing?â Nick growled from the doorway behind me.
âDad wants us to cart this out of here,â Caleb grunted, and shoved past, forcing me to lean over the bed.
âAnd put it where?â
Soft. Worn.
âGarage,â Caleb said quietly.
They were small in my hand.
âRyth Castlemaine,â I spoke her name and lifted her panties. âSeems like Dad wants them to stay.â
âTobias,â Nick called my name like a warning.
Iâd tried to put the sound of their laughter out of my head the other night, tried to find a little sleep, even if it was filled with memories of mom. But I couldnât sleepâ¦not knowing a woman was downstairs, and when I left yesterday and drove through the city streets trying to find my way to somewhere I didnât even know existed, Iâd come back feeling more caged than ever, like an overwound spring ready to snap. My hands had trembled. Just like I felt now.
When Iâd come back home last night, Iâd felt itâ¦
The sound of her mother in the living room, the of her upstairs. The girl Iâd seen outside my bedroom as she scurried toward the bathroom we now shared.
âI want them gone.â I fisted her panties and lifted them to my nose. âIâll make sure of it.â
âTobias, no. Sheâs just a kid.â
âSheâs eighteen,â I answered as that coiled serpent moved inside me. âA year younger than me.â
The memory of her came back in a rush, how her eyes had widened for a second when I stepped out of my bedroom, almost slamming into herâ¦and how sheâd suddenly jerked her gaze to the floor, hiding her face from me.
Iâd raked her body with my gaze. Skinny, short. Small breasts under one of Calebâs old t-shirts.
I didnât give a shit what excuse dad gave.
I looked around the room, filled with the equipment that had kept my mom alive for a little longer, giving me one more second with her. That girl shouldnât be hereâ¦shouldnât be anywhere near here, not this roomâ¦and not our home.
Burned down house or not, she wasnât staying here. Not if I had anything to do with it.
Kid, my assâ¦Iâd make her desperate to fucking leave.
I threw her panties on the bed, then glanced at the pretty pale green dress hanging at the end of the bed, and strode from the room.