Bad Son (Wild Men 3.50)

Yeah, no way. I keep raking, sweat running down my back, sticking the cotton to my shoulder blades.

“Okay, then tell me something about you.” She leans against the fence, and from the corner of my eye I stare at her legs.

Dammit.

“Like...” She crosses her legs at the ankle as she leans back and I tear my gaze away. “How do you eat your fries?”

I snort. I can’t help it. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah! I like mine with blue cheese dip, or ketchup. You?”

Is she for real?

“Ranch dressing.” I go back to raking. She’s just fucking with me, I know it. Who cares about shit like this?

“Merc likes his with Chocolate frosty. Dips them in it. I swear...” She sighs fondly. “He’s something.”

A jolt of shock goes through me at the mention of the guy’s name, when the thought of kissing her is still burning in my mind. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. He eats them with Nutella, too. Can you believe it?”

“Jesus Christ, who the hell cares?” I throw the rake down to the grass and start toward the house, and I swear my bones are vibrating with rage. “Why don’t you go back to Merc, whoever that fucking loser is?”

“Jarett!”

I don’t turn around, though I hear her footsteps following me. She touches my arm, and I spin around. “What?”

“Merc is my brother.”

My breath goes out, and with it my rage. I sag, searching her face for clues. She doesn’t look like she’s shitting me.

Jeez. The guy she was talking to on the phone, probably also the guy she was walking with down the street? That’s her brother?

“Come on,” she says softly, taking my hand, smiling. “We’re not finished yet.”

She’s right. We’re not.

Whatever it is we’re doing.

Chapter Four

Gigi

“How’s your brother doing?” Mom asks as I come out of Merc’s room, closing the door behind me.

“Mom, we live in the same house. Ask him.”

“Oh, you know how he is. He won’t let me coddle him, and pretends he’s fine. God, sometimes I wish he went back to being a toddler. Back then it was easier to tell what he needed.”

“He’ll be fine.” I give her a reassuring smile.

“Does he still have a fever? I’ll take—”

“Mom, he’s fine.”

Merc isn’t fine, but it’s not a physical sickness that’s tormenting him on most days, and even now... Even now, he’s exhausted because he can’t rest in his sleep, troubled by nightmares and memories.

Mom can never know. Octavia, our older sister, either. Merc made me swear when we were kids that I’d never tell a living soul.