And being associated with my brother just pissed me off all the more.
He might as well be in a castle built out of gold.
And I went to bed at night thinking, Damn, I’m so lucky to be here with Mom, instead of in that golden prison with Dad.
Last year Julian sent us a check for fifty thousand dollars and I’d ripped it in half, not because we didn’t need it, but because I’d been so damn angry and let my pride get ahead of me. There was no note, nothing, just a check, as if that would make everything better.
He was my father through and through.
Throw a little money at it and call it good.
“Alright, honey,” Mom said as I helped her sit back down on the couch and tucked her feet under her favorite Huskies afghan. She had at least ten romance novels on the coffee table. I pointed to them with a smirk only to have her pick one up and glare. “Don’t you dare make fun of me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mom.” I kissed her cheek and made my way into the kitchen. My feet hurt from standing all day, my back hurt from deadlifts, and I had a shift at five a.m. with UPS.
At least the pay was good. I almost had enough saved to pay bills for the next two months, unless something happened with Mom, and then we’d be screwed. And that’s the thing about her disease; one day she’s fine, the next we’re in the ER, then she’s admitted to the hospital for a week.
“So your day?” Mom grinned at me, then flipped on the TV, setting it to mute. She knew me well. I liked having the news on, and I liked being able to turn up the volume if I wanted to subject myself to the chaos that was our world.
“Well, training was good. I had two new clients today, a husband and wife. They both put on baby weight and want to get healthy again, so I put them on a pretty easy partner workout regimen that I think will really help. Plus, those who suffer together . . .”
“Stay together.” Mom laughed. “Though I don’t believe you, I still love you for the lies you tell.”
“Hah!” I pulled some chicken thighs from the freezer and popped them on a dish to defrost.
“What else?” Even sick she was beautiful and put most women to shame. Her eager expression tugged at my heart as she wrapped the afghan tighter around herself and started to shiver. Always cold. I ignored the way her collarbones jutted out from her skin along with the blue tint of the veins in her hands.
“Well, bartending is—” I stopped short when my brother’s face flashed across the TV.
And then my dad was speaking.
“Turn it up.” I clenched my teeth as my mom scrambled for the remote and turned up the volume.
“Early reports state that Julian Tennyson, vice president and soon-to-be CEO of Tennyson Financial, was in a head-on collision this evening. He’s currently in critical condition at Manhattan Grace.”
“Oh no.” Mom covered her face with her hands as tears dripped off her chin. He was still her son.
My brother.
I dropped the chicken onto the counter as my heart hammered against my chest. “I’ll always protect you.”
I’d promised him.
I’d failed.
It didn’t matter that I hated what he’d become. I was supposed to be his other half, and he was in a hospital right now.
I reached for my keys about the same time my mom started sobbing.
“Oh, my boy.” She rocked back and forth, and I was quickly moving to the living room to grab her when the doorbell rang.
We both froze, sensing that nothing good would be on the other side of that door.
Nobody visited us but the mailman.
I stood on shaky legs as I made my way to the front door and jerked it open.
I failed.
I failed.
I failed.
I smelled him first, the familiar scents of expensive scotch and cigar smoke mixed with the humid heat of Jersey during June.
And my dad, around thirty pounds heavier since I last saw him, wearing a three-piece suit and sunglasses more expensive than my rent, leaned his body against the doorframe and rasped, “He needs you. And so do I.”
“Is he okay?” A dense fog of emotion threatened to smother my body as I waited for him to answer.
“I have the best doctors tending to him,” he finally said, looking over my shoulder at my mom. His expression didn’t change, but his posture stiffened as he looked from her back to me and whispered, “I think I have an offer you won’t be able to refuse.”
And in that moment, I could have sworn I heard the sound of golden handcuffs being clipped onto my wrists as I muttered, “Come in.”
Chapter Three
ISOBEL
Numb, I was numb.