Offside (The Barker Triplets 1)

He was still behind her. She couldn’t see him, but she sure as hell felt him.

“Bobbi, maybe this isn’t a good time,” Gerald said carefully.

Bobbi ignored him and though Billie welcomed his effort, she knew Gerald wasn’t man enough for her sister. If Billie wasn’t so down she’d appreciate the fire that burned inside Bobbi, but she didn’t want to deal with her sister’s anger. Not now.

Maybe not ever.

“I left you in charge for one night.” Bobbi held up her hand, index finger pointed at Billie. “[i]One night[i] and I come home to this?”

“Bobbi, I—”

“Don’t Bobbi, me.” Her sister was livid. “You had one thing to do. [i]One thing![i] Make sure Dad was all right.” She whirled around and nodded toward Logan. “Instead you don’t even come home? You stay out all night with him? Are you kidding me?”

Her sister’s tone touched something inside Billie and a spark of indignation erupted. Indignation, hurt, and a whole lot of other stuff she’d been bottling up for days. Bobbi had no idea what had transpired over the last twelve hours. Or over the last few months. None at all.

In fact, neither one of her sisters had even asked about the concussion and subsequent end to her career. When had their family become so fractured?

“Are you really gonna go there with me?” Billie fisted her hands.

“Girls—” Gerald began.

“Shut-up!” They both shouted.

Billie took a step toward Bobbi and something in her eyes must have warned her sister that Billie was a little unstable because she moved back. All the crap Billie had dealt with over the last week—the snide comments and innuendoes. The lack of focus. The anxiety over not knowing where her life was going. The fear she had for her father and how ill prepared she felt about his deteriorating condition.

The kiss she’d just shared with the one man she’d wanted to avoid.

All of it rushed through Billie and she trembled from its enormity. The storm that swirled around her was suddenly raging and there was no way she could keep it at bay. It was too big.

“Don’t you dare get all high and mighty with me, [i]Bobbi-Jo[i].” She thrust her chin out as Bobbi’s eyes flashed. Her sister hated her full name and Billie knew it.

“Why not?” Bobbi rasped. “Someone has to.” She glanced toward the house and then swung back, her eyes hard. “You’ve been home for what, two weeks? And what have you done but stir up trouble with your stupid idea to play hockey with a bunch of men. You’ve done nothing about your future. You’ve contributed nothing to this household. Nothing.”

Billie’s face warmed when she heard Logan shuffle his feet.

“You can’t even be trusted to look after Dad!”

“That’s bull—” but she couldn’t get a word in. As much as she was living inside a storm, Billie saw the same thing reflected in her sister’s eyes.

“You were practically having sex in the freaking driveway and Dad was on a rampage with a fucking rifle in his hands.”

“It’s not my fault Dad—”

“Nothing’s ever your fault is it?” Bobbi sneered.

A strangled sound fell from Billie’s lips and she clenched her hands, wanting to plow her sister in her perfect and righteous nose. She took a step closer.

““And I suppose your tongue just happened to fall into Logan Forest’s mouth?” Bobbi continued viciously. “All night long?”

Billie saw red. Vivid, Technicolor red. Her voice lowered as she leaned forward. From the corner of her eye she saw Gerald step back. Smart man.

“Why do you care whose throat I shove my tongue down?”

“Real classy,” Bobbi retorted.

“Why are you home anyway?”

Bobbi pointed toward the house. “I didn’t trust you with Dad and seems I was right.”