Abandoned Girl (Neighpalm Industries Collective, #1)

by Winston, Lexie

  I peek at their faces, doing my best to not meet their eyes in the process. Brad looks decidedly green around the gills, and the other three don't look too happy either. The triumph that Jaxon had before is definitely less sharp, and I can’t say I’m unhappy about that. "But I've had experience with a few weapons since then, so can I have a go or not?"

  This brings their minds back to the present, and a smirk crosses Oliver’s face again. "Care to make a little wager on it?" he asks. Ah, here it is, what does he want?

  "I'm listening," I fire back, letting a healthy amount of competitive attitude seep into my voice.

  "Tomorrow, I've got a tattoo artist coming to interview. If you hit the target, you get to pick the tattoo that she does and where it goes on me." He gestures to his body, and I nod, happy with the arrangements so far. "If you miss, I get to pick one and where it goes on you." He waves at the sketchbook in front of him. "I have the perfect idea already; it's going to look so good," he crows, sure of his win.

  "Hang on, I don't know about this,” my dad speaks up.

  Jaxon, the ass, is quick to scoff, "She's a big girl, Dad, let her decide. You let Jacinta hold her own with us. Isn’t Harlow supposed to be one of the family?"

  You know, I'm just about sick of his attitude, and I show that in my cold look before turning to Oliver. "You’re on, but nothing vulgar or offensive.” He nods his agreement to the terms and rubs his hands together. Opening his book, he picks up a pencil and starts sketching, immediately losing himself in it.

  “Hey, hang on, don't I get to miss first before you get too happy?" He ignores me and keeps drawing. Nana just smiles serenely at me as I stand up and walk down to the other end of the patio, Declan and Jaxon at my side.

  "Do I have to worry that one of you is going to take a shot at me?" I mutter under my breath now that we’re out of earshot of the elder Summers.

  "You’re not worth jail time," Jaxon grinds out, another direct hit to my soul, but I keep smiling as we approach the others.

  “New sister," Kai shouts out and waves his gun around. That has us all ducking for cover, but I see that it's broken and in no danger of firing.

  Declan smacks him in the back of the head. "You idiot, put it down if you've been drinking! Go and sit with Nana." He takes the rifle from him and pushes him in the direction of the table. Kai stops to give me a kiss on the cheek on the way past, his friendliness a welcome change. I watch him walk away; he swaggers with the confidence of a handsome man who knows it. He's obviously of some Islander descent and has chin-length black hair with golden skin and black eyes, his build is athletic and a little on the bulky side compared to his brothers, so he obviously works out. My eyes drift to his ass before a clearing throat brings my attention back to the others. All of them are eyeing me with cool disdain.

  "So any brother will do, I guess." Jacinta nudges Jaxon, and I blink in surprise.

  "Oh, why don't you all fuck off? I've had enough. I don't know who did a number on you all, but I’m not that person, nor am I my mother, so why don't you cut me some slack?" Their mouths drop open in shock, but they quickly school their expressions into hungry smiles. I’m thinking that bantering back with them might just do me more harm than good, but there’s only so much I can take. Yanking the rifle out of Declan’s hands, I storm over to the table full of ammunition. The rounds are heavy in my hand as I load them into the gun, the steps reassuringly familiar as I try to calm my breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. I’m not going to have any sort of accuracy if I don't get my emotions under control, and this is my chance to finally fight back at them just a little. Once loaded, the click of the gun is loud in my ear as I ignore everything else around me and concentrate on the task at hand.

  Placing it carefully on the table, I reach for Kai’s discarded safety gear and block out even more of the surrounding noise as I pull the ear muffs over my head and situate them correctly before sliding the safety glass over my eyes. Picking the gun back up, I move over to the line on the deck where Thomas had been standing. The weight of the gun in my hands and the feel of the butt in my shoulder, brings my mind back to learning how to do this originally, and I smile at the memory of how excited Chuck, Max, and I were when we first hit a target through the bullseye. I know the circumstances of me learning to shoot sound sad to the rest of the Summers, but to me, it’s a moment that marks someone caring about me, someone noticing that I might be in danger and doing what they could to give me a way to protect myself. Maybe it is a little sad, but when you grow up with a mother like Diane, you learn to cherish the moments when someone takes the time and goes out of their way to keep you safe. Squinting, I line up my right eye with the sight and move the weapon in a practice arch, getting a feel for the motion.

  "Go, Hally girl! You got this!" Poppy cheers for me from behind the grill, a broad grin on his face.

  Taking a deep breath, I yell, “Pull!” The mechanism whirls, and I track the flight. With a quick repetitive bang, I fire the shots, but only one of the discs explodes, while the other continues off to wherever.

  "Fuck." I drop my head and turn to face the music, but they're all looking at me with stunned expressions. "What?" "You hit one," Holden says, sounding impressed. "No one ever hits one first go." Well, that makes me feel a little better as I place the gun on the table and remove the safety equipment before moving back up to the dining table, leaving the others behind as they whisper between themselves.

  "Woo hoo!" Kai cheers and salutes me with his fresh beer. Brad and Nana also give me my congratulations, but Oliver has a puzzled look on his face. "What’s wrong, Oliver?" I ask him, and his brown eyes meet mine.

  "Well, I'm not sure how to call that. You hit one, and you missed one. So we both lost then." He scratches his blue hair with his pencil in confusion.

  “Or you could say we both won," I respond, hoping to make a little bit of headway. His brown eyes sparkle again, and from the corner of my eye, I catch Kai’s small grin at my words.

  "I guess this means we're both getting new tattoos tomorrow." He resumes his sketching, lost in his artsy dreamworld once more.

  “Yes, Oliver, yes, it does." Something in my voice has him looking upward and frowning. I wink at him, and he swallows slightly before continuing with his sketch. I know exactly what his tattoo will be and where it's going to go. Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

  "Food’s ready!" Poppy calls as he makes his way over to the table with a tray of meat. He plonks it down in the middle. The others make their way down to the table, and everyone starts helping themselves. I watch the feeding frenzy, similar to feeding time on the farm. Baskets of bread are being passed around, as are bowls of different types of salad and corn on the cob. I don't actually reach for anything but still end up with a plate of food. I look on, bemused, as Brad fills my plate for me and feel my heart skip a beat at the fatherly gesture.

  “Before everyone starts," Brad says, standing up, "I'd like to propose a toast. I never thought I would be lucky enough to have kids after I had the mumps, but adopting you guys was the highlight of my life and still is. Finding Harlow is just the sprinkles on the sundae of my life, and I wanted you all to know how very glad I am for you all and how much I love you. My hope is one day, Harlow will also know the love of this family." His eyes have turned a little frosty while his gaze moves from each of his children. Brad’s not as oblivious as they all think, but he’s not willing to intervene just yet, and for that, I appreciate him.

  General conversation flows around the table. Oliver gets quizzed on the new artist he's interviewing tomorrow, and Jacinta gets asked about the photos from yesterday’s shoot. No one interacts with me, and I’m fine with that. It’s been a long day, and the passive aggressiveness of this family is truly tiring.

  I find myself sitting next to Kai, and although he doesn’t talk to me, his hand has brushed mine a few times, causing me to shiver. He doesn't say anything, and neither do I, but he has a wonderfully calm and welcoming vibe tha
t I haven't gotten from any of the others. The relief I feel just sitting next to him and being able to relax is immense. I don't feel like I need to be constantly on alert for wicked barbs or insults, that he’s happy being friends with me. A warm feeling sweeps through my body, and the tingles move towards my groin as I watch his handsome face. The animation he has about his job and the people he sponsors is amazing, and I’m grateful that he keeps the conversation light and away from any possible triggering conversations. He's telling a story about one of his team members when I find my eyes drifting closed and my head lolling to one side, landing on his shoulder. Someone snorts.

  "Huh, bet that’s never happened to you before, Kai. Harlow just fell asleep during one of your amazing stories." That sounded like Thomas again, his Irish accent making me think of green rolling hills, four-leaf clovers, and little pots of gold at the end of the rainbow. Thank god I don’t say any of that out loud. I can only imagine the scorn that would be directed my way if I did.

  My eyes are too tired to open, and I hear Nana say, "Carry her to bed, Brad. Poor dear must be exhausted. It’s all a bit much to take in." I get lifted into someone’s arms, and the rocking motion has me feeling even more sleepy.

  When I finally get laid down on the bed, the blankets are pulled back over me, and a pair of lips presses against my forehead before Oliver whispers, "You and me tomorrow morning, sweetheart, don't forget."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Harlow

  The next morning I manage to escape being woken by one of the Summers siblings, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get woken obnoxiously. My phone, next to my bed, starts to ring incessantly at six-thirty am. I ignore it the first couple of times, but whoever it is isn't giving up. Rolling over and managing to avoid Princess who’s snuggled into the curve of my back, I grab it, glaring at it through bleary eyes.

  Swiping my finger across the screen, I snap at my best friend, “For fuck’s sake, this better be good. It’s still early here.”

  Max's chuckle warms my soul, and some of the irritation fades away at that little glimpse of home. "I’m sorry. I forgot about the time difference. Right now, I'm at the airport waiting to catch my flight. I'm flying out to stunt double for Selena Cross. Apparently, she told the director of her new film that she could ride, but not only can she not ride, she’s allergic to the horses."

  I snort at the audacity and sheer stupidity. "How did she think they would never find out?"

  "Rumor has it, your new brother may have vouched for her," she says conspiratorially. “And she never thought she would have to do any riding; she assumed she would get a stunt double.”

  I sit up straight in bed, bleary eyes now open wide. "Who? Declan?"

  "Yep, and it’s making him look bad," she tells me.

  I snort again, getting a little bit of satisfaction from the whole scenario. "She may have said he did, but even though I don’t know him very well, I can guarantee you he wouldn't have if he knew the truth. So either she lied to him, or she lied to the director. I don't know him very well yet, but even I can see that he's wound tighter than a grandfather clock and won’t like being made a fool of."

  "Anyway, that’s what I'm doing. I’m going to do all her action shots and body double for anything that involves horses."

  Now it's my turn to chuckle. "I know CGI is good these days, but how the fuck are they going to manage that? You're practically a pixie compared to her."

  "Shut up," she teases. "But get this, the story is a reverse harem tale, and the main female character doesn't have to pick which man she likes the most! It's just like that book I gave you to read. How’s that going, anyway?" Her voice turns sly as she adds, "See any future harems in your life?"

  My laughter cuts off abruptly. I can only wish that the men I’m lusting after would be interested in something like that, but they can’t even stand the sight of me let alone the thought of sharing. Most sharing they’d probably want to do is splitting my plane ticket home.

  "Uh oh, what’s going on? You went silent instantly.”

  "Meh, it's not going well. You remember the guy at the club that night?"

  "Who, Jaxon?" There’s a pause of silence and then a sharp intake of breath. "Fuck, Jaxon! Oh, I’m sorry! I didn't even get a good look at him, not that I would have recognized him necessarily. I haven't seen them in years."

  "Yeah, well, he hates me. Thinks it was all a set-up. In fact, they all hate me. Although Kai and Oliver have been somewhat tolerable, I don’t think they’re going to go out on a limb and be nice despite how their siblings feel. Holden and Thomas are non-entities at the moment; I've barely said two words to either of them. But Jacinta, Jaxon, and Declan loathe me with an impressive passion." My voice hitches on the last sentence as tears well in my eyes, and there’s no way she could miss the emotion.

  "Oh, Harlow, I'm so sorry," I sniffle and wipe away a few stray tears that have escaped, shrugging my shoulders even though she can’t see them.

  "I kind of expected it, but they've been brutal. I spent the day with Jacinta so far. She told everyone I was the intern, and they used me as everyone’s bitch."

  "No, she didn't?" Max's disgusted gasp echoes through the phone.

  "Oh, but hey, I did have a good part to that day. Hang on, I'm going to send you a picture." Pulling the phone away from my ear, I forward her the pic Shane sent me and then put it back to my ear. "I made a new friend.”

  There's silence while the message sends, then, "Get the fuck out! You bitch! That’s the TAG guy!" She’s yelling by the end, and I giggle madly. "And look at your tits! They look spectacular."

  My heart warms on the inside; I really needed this phone call. "God, I miss you." I giggle sob, and I hear her sigh.

  "Maybe you should just come home," she suggests, and I consider it, weighing the possible internships and relationship with my father against the drama that seems par for the course in being the outcast Summers sibling.

  "I'll stick it out until your dad’s horses leave, and then I may just do that. Not sure I’m cut out for this family thing. Letting in more people with the capability of cutting me to shreds just doesn't seem sensible to me."

  We talk for a little longer before saying our goodbyes and hanging up. Checking the time, I have a long hot shower and get dressed in an ombre yellow maxi dress for the day. I’m not sure where Oliver wants to put my tattoo, so I don't want to wear restrictive clothing. Brushing my hair, I pull it into a high ponytail to keep it out of my face and apply some mascara to my blonde eyelashes. Studying myself in the mirror, I look tired and worn out, the ever see-sawing emotions taking their toll on me. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath in and letting it out, preparing to head into breakfast and the next wave of hostile battering I’ll probably face.

  When I open my eyes, the girl that looks back at me is resigned but determined. Turning away from the mirror, I pick Princess up off my bed and cradle her against my chest. She doesn't do anything but blink at me with sleepy eyes, an edge of sadness in her gaze since I’m disturbing her rest.

  "Come on, sweetheart, let’s go before your dad comes and shouts at me again.”

  When I get to the living area, I place Princess on one of the sofas and head over to the dining table. Mrs. Hayton is bustling around and placing out platters of food, but she seems to be the only one around. "Oh, Harlow, mein liebling." Her accent is as strong as her enthusiasm, and the warmth in those few words is just so nice to hear. She pulls me in for a hug, and I realize I hadn't seen her last night.

  "Hi, Mrs. Hayton," I push out, the greeting slightly muffled against where she’s pressed us together. She pulls away and pats me on the cheek, her pale blue eyes seeing way more than I'm comfortable with.

  "You hang in there." She puts both hands on my cheeks, hands slightly calloused, showing she’s always worked with them. "They will come around. The poor ducklings have had many a hurt themselves over the years and have fortified strong defenses. I believe you will blow those defenses to smithere
ens, and all will be balanced within the family again. They just need a little time." She pats my cheeks lightly after her mysterious words and bustles away to finish setting breakfast up.

  "I didn't see you last night?" I question her as I take a seat at the table, and she brings me over a cup of coffee.

  "No, I gave you all time as family." Her English drops slightly with the rush of words. "But of course, those assholes like to play their games, she says, part with affection and part with exasperation. I blink at her words and laugh slightly; she's obviously heard about the bet and the guns.

  Reaching for some toast, I hear a voice behind me. "That’s what I like to see. Glad you're eating so that we’re not tattooing you on an empty stomach." Turning, I find Oliver standing just behind me. He's dressed in a pair of distressed jeans that mold to his body nicely and a Neighpalm Ink t-shirt stretched across his chest, his tattooed arms standing out against the black fabric. Waving his sketch pad at me, he teases, "Got the drawing right here. Can't wait to get in and get started."

  I frown at him, feeling less confident with the idea of him being so in control of the tattoo. "I thought you said the new artist was going to do it."

  He smirks, and his eyes light up with delight, sending a shiver of desire through my body. I try very hard not to show any outward signs of it, but his smirk gets even wider, so I don't think I was too successful. "I did, but I've decided I want to do it myself. I can’t trust my masterpiece to just anyone."

  "Fine, but you better be going through with yours. You're not getting out of it. I hit one of those targets fair and square." A resigned look crosses his face, and his eyebrows pull down as he sighs.

  "I won’t renege. I have honor." His words are laced with innuendo, but I ignore it, telling him cheerfully