Rocking Kin (The Lucy & Harris Novella Series Book 3)

by Terri Anne Browning

  My heart jumped in my chest but I quickly squelched the excitement. I’d turned my phone on silent that morning and hadn’t even looked at the damn thing all day. Pulling up the messages, I saw that he’d started out with a simple “good morning, beautiful,’ but as the day had gone by he’d gotten more impatient since I hadn’t replied to any of his texts. The last one was all caps, practically shouting at me.

  ARE YOU STILL COMING TONIGHT??? I WANT TO SEE YOU! CALL ME!

  I shook my head and started to type out a quick text ten seconds before Georgia nearly took out our neighbor’s mailbox—and the neighbor who was standing beside the mailbox going through his stack of mail. My heart still pounding and nausea making me actually taste bile in the back of my throat, I hit send.

  Chill out. My phone was on mute. I’ll be there. See you then. Can’t call. Step-monster has to TALK to me.

  I ended the message with the eye-rolling emoji and started to put my phone back into my messenger bag, but the screen lit up with a new message instantly.

  Can we talk later? Really talk?

  My palms grew sweaty and it wasn’t just because Georgia nearly sideswiped her mother’s expensive convertible when she pulled to a jarring stop in the driveway. I wasn’t stupid. I knew what he was asking. When a guy said he wanted to ‘talk,’ it normally meant one of two things: he either wanted to break up with you, or he wanted to put his tongue down your throat—and other places.

  Georgia and Carolina got out of the car but I sat there for a few seconds before finally letting my fingers move over the phone’s screen.

  Yeah.

  That was all I wrote before closing the screen and stuffing the phone deep into the messenger bag. I didn’t know what he would send back.

  My heart was still doing summersaults in my chest as I finally got out of the car and slowly walked into Scott’s house. Jillian was waiting impatiently for me by the front door, her Jimmy Choo’s tapping and her hands on her tiny hips as she glared at me.

  I wiped my feet on the rug just outside the door, because my mother had taught me to always wipe my feet before entering a house, and gave my step-monster a bored look as I stepped inside. “Hi,” I greeted her, trying to move around her so I could go into the kitchen for a snack before going upstairs to do the little bit of history homework I had.

  Jillian moved to block my way. “You aren’t leaving this house tonight without Georgia, do you understand me, McKinley? I’m not going to have you under my roof taking up all the fame for yourself. Take Georgia with you, or I promise you, little girl, you won’t be leaving this house again until you’re eighteen.”

  My brows lifted at the ‘little girl’ comment. I was a good six inches taller than this bitch. And her tone? My own mother had never spoken to me in such a condescending way, so having it thrown at me right then rubbed me raw in all the wrong ways. I clenched my hands into fists at my sides, wanting to tear her pretty extensions out of her brainless head and scratch up that perfect face my father must have spent a small fortune on with the best plastic surgeons.

  My mother’s voice filling my head, however, had me relaxing enough to calm my rage. I’d been raised by not only a woman who had taught me right from wrong, but a stepdad who had as well. That I should respect my elders, blah-blah-blah. Right then I wanted to ignore all those things that she and Carter had ingrained in me. Why the fuck should I respect someone who didn’t have an ounce of respect for me?

  But the chorus of Abagail and Carter’s voices was more powerful than my hatred for the bitch currently standing in front of me. So I relaxed my hands, forced a smile to my lips, and brushed past Jillian. “Sure. Whatever,” I called over my shoulder as I headed into the kitchen. I wouldn’t do anything that would make either of my true parents ashamed of me. At least not yet. But I was seriously reaching my breaking point. “I’m leaving at seven, so tell her to be ready. Marcus will be picking us up.”

  Since I didn’t have my own car there, I had to either drive with Georgia or, thankfully, have Marcus pick me up. Both Jesse and Layla Thornton had insisted on it, acting as concerned for my wellbeing as they did their daughter’s.

  Knowing that Jace wanted to talk, I took a little extra care with my makeup and what I picked out to wear. I showered, actually dried my hair with the expensive-looking hairdryer that was in my bathroom and even used a few of the products that Jillian kept in there in hopes I would actually ‘do something with that hair’ of mine. I hated admitting it, but the products left my hair feeling softer than ever and shining.

  I dressed in my favorite pair of jeans, added knee-high, flat-heeled boots and the black Shinedown T-shirt I’d gotten at Carolina Rebellion the year before. For makeup, I didn’t bother with foundation, just put on a little extra moisturizer and did a smoky eye so my baby-blues popped out a little more. A few swipes of my favorite gloss that had my lips plumping up even more than usual and I was finished.

  By the time I went downstairs, Georgia was already waiting by the front door with Jillian. I had to sink my teeth into the inside of my bottom lip to keep from bursting out laughing at what the girl was wearing. Seriously? I honestly couldn’t say if the clothes—if you could call them that—were better or worse than what I’d seen her wearing the night before.

  Her hair was teased in an eighties-style kind of way that made me wonder if she was going to have to go to the salon the next day to repair all the damage she’d done to her hair to get it to look—and stay—the way it was right then. Her dress looked more like a camisole nightgown that was so low cut the only part of her cleavage was her nipples. The dress ended a few inches before her ass did, but she had on a pair of black leather shorts that covered her ass. Barely. Fishnet stockings covered her tan legs and she had on huge, clear heels that I was pretty sure her mother had saved from her days as a stripper.

  I didn’t know if it was even legal to go out looking like that in any other places than Vegas and New Orleans during Mardi Gras. Would Tiny let us in with Georgia looking like that? I hid a smile as I pictured the big, yummy head of security tossing Georgia out while I went inside to watch Tainted Knights’ show.

  “I want the cameras to get you both, so stand as close to Georgia as you can when you get to First Bass,” Jillian instructed as she reached out to fix a few strands of her oldest daughter’s hair that had dared to fall from its constricting, heavily hair-sprayed hairdo.

  Definitely a hair-don’t. I nearly snorted but caught myself just in time.

  “Make sure you tell the paparazzi who Georgia is, McKinley. We want them to get her name right when she’s in the tabloids in the morning and on TMZ tomorrow night,” Jillian said, continuing to fuss.

  I turned away so she couldn’t see that I was rolling my eyes. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”

  “I mean it,” Jillian suddenly snapped and grabbed my wrist so hard her nails bit into my skin. She jerked me around and glared up at me. “If I have to put up with you living under this roof, you’re going to do something that can benefit us.”

  Respect your elders, Kin. Respect your elders.

  I clenched my jaw, counted to ten and forced a smile for the bitch. “I heard you, Jillian. Now let me the fuck go.”

  Her eyes widened at the way I’d just spoken to her and her hold tightened even more for a second before she dropped my hand like I was something poisonous. Refusing to rub my now aching wrist, I turned away from her, flipping my hair into her face as I opened the door with my other hand. Glancing outside, I saw Marcus was already waiting and I reached for my coat in the hall closet.

  Georgia didn’t even bother with one as she stepped out of the house ahead of me. Dumbass was going to freeze her tits off. Shaking my head at how stupid the girl really was, I headed toward the idling Range Rover. As I neared, Marcus got out to open the back door for me. The only reaction he had to the sight of Georgia was a slight lifting of his brows.

  I blew out a frustrated sigh. “I couldn’t get out of it tonight, big guy. Guess I’m
stuck with her.”

  He gave a single nod and then offered his hand to assist me into the back of the SUV. I lifted my hand to put in his, but remembered how sore it was and dropped it again. “I got this,” I assured him.

  Of course he’d seen my hesitation and his suspicious brain had him reaching for the hand I’d just shied away from offering him. I couldn’t help but grimace a little when his big fingers touched my wrist through my coat and his jaw clenched as he carefully pushed up the sleeve to examine my flesh in the dim lighting of the streetlamps.

  “Who?” was all he asked as he lifted my hand just enough to inspect the nail marks that had started to welt.

  I shrugged and pulled free. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine.”

  His face turned to stone as he held my door open and waited for me to get in. Once I was settled and had my seatbelt on, he shut the door and got behind the wheel. Georgia, who had been standing on the other side of the SUV waiting for Marcus to open the door for her, glared at the guard before letting out a huff and opening the door herself.

  Once she was inside and had her seatbelt on, Marcus finally put the vehicle in drive and pulled out of the driveway. I shot my oldest step-bitch a look at one point during the drive and had to hide a laugh behind a cough. Her hair was touching the roof, pushing her puffy tease down a few inches. Her leather shorts were so tight I wondered if it was cutting off blood flow to her vagina and her top told the world just how chilly it was in SoCal that night by how hard her nipples were.

  It was going to be a very interesting night, that was for sure.

  The drive wasn’t a peaceful one. Georgia pulled out her cellphone and started calling all her friends. She screamed at least six times—per phone call—which had Marcus on full alert, but she was giggling and laughing like she was having the time of her life. She was giving me a headache, though.

  Deciding I needed to at least try to ignore her, I pulled out my own cell. I wasn’t surprised when I saw I had a text from Jace.

  Just friends, I tried to remind myself.

  Just. Friends.

  But I couldn’t help the silly smile that lifted my lips as I pulled up the text.

  Will be waiting for you before the show. Won’t have much time. Just want to see you before I go on stage.

  I glanced at the clock at the top of my phone’s screen. Should be there in 20.

  I wasn’t surprised when he instantly sent a reply. See you then, babe.

  Shaking my head, I put the phone away and leaned my head back against the seat, trying not to think about the dull ache in my wrist. I was going to have a bruise and I didn’t bruise easily. My mother and Carter had never touched me with violence in any way, never once spanked me in my life. Never grabbed me in anger. I was unused to that kind of treatment, uncomfortable with it, and—yeah, I’ll admit it—my feelings were more than a little hurt.

  But most of all, I was pissed. How dare that bitch touch me like that? How dare she grab me and leave welts on my skin? How dare she hurt me physically?

  It wasn’t okay.

  My mother and Carter’s voice were no longer floating around in my head telling me to respect my elders. If my mom had been alive she probably would have torn Jillian apart for doing what she had. If Carter was there he would have punched Scott for letting his wife touch me.

  Thinking of the two people who were my true parents, the woman who had given birth to me and the man who had raised me as his own, tears burned my eyes and a lump filled my throat. I kept my eyes closed tightly to keep the stupid tears from falling and breathed in deep to attempt to get control of my emotions. I wasn’t normally a crier, but everything was starting to get to be too much.

  All my emotions were swimming around, confusing me. I missed Carter and the twins. I missed my mom. I wanted to be back in Virginia with all four of them. I wanted to be getting a new snowsuit because we would be getting ready to go to Aspen for a week at Christmas. I wanted to argue with Angie about what we would buy Caleb for Christmas because he was so damn hard to buy for. I wanted to make another one of those stupid pipe-cleaner ornaments to add to the hundreds that Abagail put on our Christmas tree every year.

  I wanted to not be confused about Jace St. Charles. I wanted…so many things I knew I would never get.

  The feel of the Range Rover coming to a stop had me sucking in a steady breath and opening my eyes. Georgia was shooting me an odd look, but then her gaze went beyond me to the flashing cameras and her face split into a smile that was so toothy I wondered how she kept them in her mouth. Where the hell were her gums?

  Moving slower than normal, Marcus got out and handed the keys over to the valet. He opened my door and helped me out, being careful with my sore wrist. Once I was on my feet he put his hand at the small of my back, guiding me toward the sidewalk.

  Georgia practically jumped out of the back of the SUV, and I couldn’t help but watch in fascination as she moved like she had been born to wear the stripper heels. She didn’t wobble, didn’t stumble and walked effortlessly over to me to wrap her arms around me in a ‘loving’ hug.

  “McKinley, who are you with tonight?” I heard one of the usual paps say, who was always camped outside First Bass every night.

  I gritted my teeth for ten full seconds before pasting on a smile and actually answering the woman for the first time. Ever. “This is my stepsister, Georgia.” That was all I said, though, as I paused for a few seconds so Jillian would be happy with the amount of pictures the cameras all took before pulling away and walking away from Georgia like I didn’t even know her.

  Marcus was right beside me as we reached the front door and he opened it for me. I glanced back to see if Georgia was coming but she was still standing on the sidewalk posing for the cameras and answering the questions they were all throwing at her. Well, Jillian would be happy. Her daughter would definitely end up on TMZ. Probably being laughed at for what she had worn and how ready she was to offer up any information about herself, but on there nonetheless.

  Marcus followed my gaze and grumbled something under his breath. He was anything but his usual stoic self tonight. “Wait for me here,” he commanded in a quiet tone before going back and taking hold of Georgia’s shoulders, guiding her toward the club’s entrance. “Stop acting up, or I’m taking you home,” he was growling at the girl as he reached me. “I’m not here to babysit. My job is to keep those I’m told to safe. Oddly enough, your name isn’t on that list.”

  “Oh, yeah? And McKinley’s name is?” Georgia tried to smart off.

  “No. McKinley’s name isn’t,” Marcus assured her. “But Kin’s name is. So behave or I promise you, you’ll be home way before bedtime, little girl.”

  She actually pouted up at him, probably thinking that would get her somewhere with the menacing bodyguard. All my tears from earlier evaporated completely as I turned around, not even trying to hide my laugh.

  As I walked deeper into the club, Tiny stepped out of the VIP entrance. “Miss Montez. So nice to see you again.”

  His voice was scary as hell, but I loved it. This guy, like Marcus, made me feel safe and right then I needed that feeling more than anything. Tiny held out his hand, offering to take my coat. “May I?”

  I reluctantly shrugged the coat off and then cradled my sore wrist against my stomach so no one could see the red welts or bruises. “Thanks, Tiny.”

  His gaze was on my hand, but he didn’t comment on it. “Mr. St. Charles said he would be waiting for you at the bar.”

  Thinking of Jace waiting on me perked me up a little more and I couldn’t help the new smile that tilted my lips. “Thanks. Let Lucy know I’ll be up front when the show starts, will you?”

  “Of course, Miss Montez.”

  Wanting away from Georgia, I practically skipped into the downstairs part of First Bass and moved through the thick crowd to get to the bar. I wanted to talk to Jace. I needed a friend right then to unload on, needed someone to wrap their arms around me and tell me it was all going t
o be okay.

  Marcus stuck close even with how fast I was moving and I heard Georgia complaining so I knew she was following me too.

  “I thought we would be up in the VIP?” she whined as I neared the bar.

  I ignored her as I glanced around for Jace. My eyes caught sight of him almost instantly. He was standing at the end with a beer in one hand and a glass of what looked like ginger ale in the other. He was leaning back against the wall, his eyes skimming over the crowd looking for someone.

  Looking for me.

  My heart skipped a beat and I paused long enough to make sure my hands weren’t trembling before I headed toward him. I knew the instant he spotted me. Even from the distance that still separated us I could tell his eyes had darkened to cobalt and a half grin lifted his lips. He nodded his head, beckoning me to hurry up since his hands were full.

  Pushing through one last group, I reached him and he moved away from the wall to lower his head and kiss my cheek. I wasn’t expecting that, and my heart did a funny little twist in my chest that was both painful and exciting. Jace lingered for a moment longer, his nose sliding to my ear to inhale the scent of my hair.

  “I don’t like your new shampoo,” he told me with a slight frown as he handed over the glass of ginger ale. “Your hair looks beautiful as always, babe, but it doesn’t smell like you.”

  “It’s just the products Jillian left in my bathroom,” I told him as I took a sip of my drink. “It makes my hair feel really soft though.”

  With his free hand he grasped a few strands and rubbed them between his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, it’s silky. I like that, but I miss the smell.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that so I took another drink of the cold ginger ale.

  “Jace!” We both turned to find Kale and Cash waiting at the stairs that led to the stage. “Come on,” Kale called and waved one of his drumsticks at me. “Hey, Kin.”

  “Hey, Kin!” Cash called before he stepped on stage.

  Cursing, Jace swallowed the rest of his beer in one gulp, then leaned down to brush his lips over my cheek again. “Wait for me after the show? I really want to talk, babe. Really talk. About us.”