The Monster (Boston Belles 3)

He took his car keys out of his coat’s pocket.

“Circumstances change,” he clipped.

“Yes, they do,” I agreed. “Which is why I suggest you stop assuming I am always going to be at your disposal. I’m not the same girl you met at the carnival, Sam. I’m all grown up, and I won’t be treated like I’m a toy.”

He leaned toward me, smirking teasingly. “Wanna bet?”

“How are we going to settle the bet? In your card room at Badlands?” I arched an eyebrow, a childish part of me desperate to let him know I was privy to the way he ran his business.

“No. You’re not allowed in Badlands,” he reminded me in a withering tone.

“But Sailor and Persy are.” I laughed bitterly.

“Sailor and Persy are not running around looking for trouble. They stay at home with their babies. I suggest you do the same.”

“I don’t have babies,” I pointed out the obvious. “Oh, and it’s not the nineteenth century.”

“You might be annoying, but I’m sure you’ll find a schmuck willing to knock you up.”

“What about Belle? How come she’s allowed in Badlands? She looks for trouble all the time. Much more than me.”

“Belle is damaged goods and also none of my fucking business. If you end up catching the clap in Badlands’ restroom, your family will come crying to me.”

“You’re a sexist pig.”

“And you are still interested. What does it say about you, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Jr.?”

I was going to say something snarky, but apparently, Sam was through with the exchange. In a swift fashion, he turned around and sauntered over to his car, which was parked right behind me.

“Hold onto those little secrets of yours, Nix. Because I’m going to have one hell of a good time unraveling them.”

He slid into his car and sped off.

Leaving me with a throbbing center, wet cheeks, and a jumbled head.

I knew something was wrong as soon as I parked the car by the fountain at my front door. Avebury Court Manor was like a body. It had bones, a heart, and a soul. I could recognize its pulse from miles away, and something felt different. Erratic.

All the lights in the house were turned on, the staff, which should be long gone, running back and forth by the window like shadow puppets. There was a commotion. My brothers’ cars were also still parked by the entrance. They should be home by now.

Something happened.

Hurrying out of the car, I clutched my keys in a death grip.

Please be okay, Mother.

As soon as I flung the door open, Cillian and Hunter poured out of it, each of them holding Da from each side. My father, green and dripping with sweat, was slouched unresponsive between them, his head dangling from his neck like a pendulum.

“Where are you taking him?” I shrieked.

Cillian shouldered past me, toward his car. I followed them, my legs still shaky from my crazy night.

“Disney World,” my older brother drawled, sullen. “Where do you think? The hospital.”

“The hospital!” I echoed, my mouth turning dry. “Why? What happened? Where’s Mother?”

“Mother is hiding in her room crying about how Da stole the show, being a real fucking adult about it per usual,” Hunter filled me in, his voice playful as always, even when his words were hot and angry.

“As for Athair, he’s been vomiting nonstop since you left, has diarrhea, a dry mouth, a rash, trouble breathing, and he fainted twice since dessert.”

Cillian buckled my dad inside his Aston Martin. “How would you diagnose that, Doc?”

“Well, I need to run more tests, of course, but at first glance I would say he was poisoned.”

“Ding, ding, ding,” Hunter congratulated me. “When Da finished his cup of coffee, he proceeded to collapse on top of the table like a stack of cards.”

All the air left my lungs at once.

“I’m coming with you.”

“You just got back from the hospital,” Hunter pointed out.

My face filled with heat and shame, and I curled my long coat around myself to prevent my brothers from seeing the giant rip in my dress. They thought I was at Brigham, too. Because I lied to them. To all of them. Every single member of my family and the small circle of my friends.

“It’s no trouble.”

“Your funeral,” Cillian clipped. “Hunter, let her take the passenger seat. C’mon, Ash. We’re taking the car. We don’t want the headlines an ambulance would create.”

“Forever the Fitzpatricks.” Hunter touched his forehead with mock salute, tucking himself next to Da.

I stuffed myself into the seat next to Cillian.

“Sure you’re okay leaving your baby behind?” Hunt asked from the backseat, jerking his chin toward the manor. He meant our mother.

“Don’t start.”

“No shade.” Hunter raised his palms in the air defensively. “All I’m saying is she is probably writing all of us out of her will because we are driving Da to the hospital instead of telling her how pretty she is—after she poisoned him.”