He knew that step back was the wrong thing to do when he saw the pain on his mother’s face, and the confusion on his father’s. But they left him anyway. Walked out and left him to his thoughts, and with his siblings.
“Liam, it doesn’t mean anything,” Bristol said quickly. “You’re still our brother. It’s just a name, like you said. It means nothing. Dad has always been there for us.”
“Your dad,” Liam grumbled, knowing he was an idiot and that he was saying all the wrong things. He knew what being a father truly meant. It wasn’t just the blood in your veins. But he couldn’t focus on that right now. He couldn’t concentrate on anything.
“You guys need to go, too,” Liam barked.
“If you think we’re going to fucking leave you alone right now, you’ve got to be crazy,” Ethan snapped. “Yeah, I’d be pissed off, too. I am pissed off. They lied to all of us our entire lives. But you’re still my fucking brother.”
“You’ll always be our brother,” Aaron added.
“But I’m not a fucking Montgomery, am I?” Liam growled, throwing his hands up into the air. He winced at the movement that stretched the stitches on his arm, and then he cursed.
“Just go. I need time to think.”
“If you take too much time, you’re going to take the wrong next steps, and you’re going to do something stupid,” Bristol said quickly, tears running down her cheeks.
“Thanks for that vote of confidence,” Liam said snidely. “I just need a minute to think.”
“Then think with us,” Aaron said softly. “Nothing’s changed. You’re still our brother. Can’t you see that?”
“Am I? Why did they lie to us all this time if it didn’t mean anything? I…I don’t know what to think, but the lies…I don’t know if I can handle that. I just need some time to think. I need you guys to go. Okay? I just need time to think.” He said it aloud, but also kept repeating that in his head, over and over again. But he couldn’t get his thoughts together.
How was he supposed to think when he had no idea what was going on? He’d always known that he had been born a bastard, at least in the sense of being born before his parents were married, but he hadn’t known the whys of it. It had never bothered him that his birthday was before his parents’ anniversary. It hadn’t meant anything to him.
But now, it meant everything. And he couldn’t figure out exactly why.
He looked down at his arm, at the MI tattoo that shone brightly amongst the flowers and other images on his skin. And he wondered what the hell he was going to do.
“You’ll always be our brother,” Bristol said through tears. “No matter what.”
Liam looked up and shook his head. “Maybe. But if I’m not a Montgomery, what am I?”
No one could answer that. He didn’t think there was an answer at all.
Because everyone had lied to him from the beginning. And if there was one thing he couldn’t handle, it was lies. And now?
Now, he had nothing.
Not even his name.
Chapter 5
Arden didn’t want to whine, but then again, she really did. Maybe because her eyes were crossing, and though her body felt better than it had last week, she still wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. The phrase, “Oh, God, everything hurts, and I’m dying,” had been uttered a few times that day.
Mostly aloud. The rest just in her mind.
That’s what happened when she worked by herself in her own home and rarely talked to people. Yes, she had a decent group of friends online, but she never actually saw them in person. And despite what her brothers thought, her online friends were her true friends. Just because she didn’t see them every day—or any day since they lived all over the country—and didn’t have coffee with them, didn’t mean they weren’t actual friends.
If she kept telling herself that, maybe she’d actually believe it when she needed to fight with her brothers about it.
The thing was, she didn’t have as many friends as some might want her to have. She worked alone from her house, and that meant she didn’t really have a lot of social interaction beyond her brothers and what happened online. She was relatively closed off from the world, and most days when she wasn’t feeling her best, and the lupus and everything that came with it was hitting her hard, she was fine with that. Other days? She really missed human interaction.
Arden rolled her neck, looked down at her work, and smiled. Later today, she would have some human interaction.
Maybe it wasn’t a date with the hot guy from the hospital, but that was fine. It wasn’t like she believed that Liam Montgomery was going to ask her out. Because hot guys really didn’t ask her out or follow through, even after getting her number.
She remembered how she’d looked that day and the fact that she’d had slight sunstroke and an allergic reaction that had led right to a lupus attack.
She was surprised that Liam had even wanted to speak with her. He’d probably just asked for her number out of pity.
She ignored the roiling in her stomach and went back to work. She had things to do today that weren’t just looking at words, and she would get to them.
Then she’d have her small interaction with humans and could get back to just hanging out with her dog.
As if he had known that she was thinking of him, Jasper put his head on her lap and looked up at her with those big, sad eyes of his. They had just gotten back from a walk less than an hour ago, so she knew it wasn’t that. He probably just knew that she wasn’t feeling her best and wanted to cuddle her.
“I love you, too, my little baby Jasper.” She kissed the top of his head, and he rumbled a bit before going back to nap at her feet.
Jasper was a white Siberian Husky and possibly the cutest dog in the history of the world—at least in her opinion. He was getting older now, and not as quick as he once was, but he was still faster than she was. Thankfully, he wasn’t a puppy anymore, and that meant that he rested more so she could, as well. When he was a puppy?
Yeah, that really hadn’t gone over well with her lupus. Not even a little.
But she’d dealt with it, and she would deal with more later. She always did.
Right now, she had to get back to work.
She was the owner and sole proprietor of Literally Addictive Research. That sounded much more boring than it actually was.
She did research and book compendiums for sci-fi and historical fiction. Even though her personal love for reading was romance and young adult, she tended not to work in those two genres much. Mostly because she didn’t want to deal with trying to organize facts and data and think about if the author and editor had actually researched anything while she was enjoying it.
In her line of work, she couldn’t just relax while reading a book. So, she tried not to work in her preferred genres. Instead, she worked in two that she liked but didn’t read for pleasure as often.
At the moment, she was reading a massive sci-fi series that she had been working on for seven books. She was now on the eighth. It was apparently the penultimate book, but she could tell that there could possibly be a spinoff series from the way certain side characters had been introduced.
She was happy for that because the author was brilliant with their prose, and their world building was phenomenal. But the author hated making their own series bible—or book compendium as they liked to call them. And that meant that Arden was going through every minute detail and double-checking the compendium that she had made for earlier books, making sure the facts were correct. Plus, she had to add every side character and what happened to those characters along the timeline to her work. It not only helped the author and the editor, but it also helped her enjoy the book a bit more.
At times, it got a little tedious, but her love of spreadsheets and data, as well as creative fiction, really melded together perfectly for this job.
Plus, there were a few key things for the next book that the client wanted her to research, but she needed to make sure she got th
is book done first. Because even though they were making up fake space ships and other things that didn’t exist yet in the real world, their propulsion systems were based on true science. At least, somewhat. So, that meant that it was Arden’s responsibility to make sure that everything made sense. No, her job wasn’t the easiest, but it was perfect for her. Plus, her next project was for L.M. Berry, her favorite historical fiction and thriller author.
She could work from home and do things right from her bed if the rest of her body wasn’t cooperating.
Thankfully, even though she was a little weaker than she wanted to be, she wasn’t in a full-blown attack. Flareups were a bitch, and even though her body was sometimes in a constant state of flux, this one wasn’t that bad.
Her hair didn’t hurt too much, and her skin didn’t feel like it was on fire.
Thankfully, the rash that Liam had seen was now completely gone, though she knew it might come back any day now because there was sun outside. But she was doing okay.
And okay was better than nothing.
Arden finished up the rest of her work—at least to a stopping point because she knew the work never truly ended. She wasn’t going to complain about that, though, because work meant income and an actual job. She was so grateful that she got to do what she loved for a living and do it from her home in leggings and a comfortable shirt. But still, sometimes, she just needed to rest her eyes.
Lupus wasn’t good for her eyeballs, after all. So, she wore reading glasses with a very low prescription and a blue-light lens just so she could focus for long periods of time.
She seriously had issues. But then, didn’t everyone? She put her things away and got off her comfy chair with Jasper at her side. The soft sounds of his claws clicking against her hardwood floor made her smile, then reminded her that he probably needed to go to the groomer soon.
Most Siberian Huskies didn’t really need to go to the groomers, but Jasper liked it, and sometimes, Arden was a little too weak to brush him for long periods of time. Her baby was a diva, and she loved it.
Arden turned on an audiobook for one of her favorite young adult fantasy romances and turned up the speed so she could listen at a comfortable pace as she started her next piece of work.
She didn’t actually get paid to bake, but she loved it. Today, she was trying out a new recipe. A butterscotch brownie with white chocolate chips. It was from one of the contestants on a British baking show that she loved to watch. Their cookbook had just come out, and since it was their first one, she was going to try a new recipe. She had purchased around ten or eleven cookbooks from the show over the years, but she constantly bought more.
Baking soothed her. Plus, she loved eating all the goodies. Not that she was going to eat many of them today.
No, today was for the senior center.
See? She did talk with other people. And not just those online. She was going to do some baking, and even though it had sugar in it, some of those at the senior center would be grateful, including the nurses and staff who worked there.
Then she would take some pictures and put her final results up on the blog.
Yes, she had a food blog. Though it wasn’t a huge one with an immense following, it helped her connect with the outside world.
Since this wasn’t her recipe, she was going to help the actual author by mentioning the book and her results.
She liked doing a mixture of her own stuff and recipes she found.
It seemed to drive up viewings, and the ad revenue from the site helped her pay her medical bills.
She had many talents, but leaving the house sometimes wasn’t one of them.
She danced around her kitchen—or at least she tried to dance. She wasn’t the best at it, but she enjoyed herself. All the while, she listened to her book, tried to keep her dog out of her baking, and used a little bit of her energy to enjoy herself.
Sometimes, she felt cut off from the world. Other times, she was okay.
She had enough human interaction in her life. She didn’t need men like Liam Montgomery getting her hopes up.
She didn’t need anyone. She had herself.
Jasper nudged her, and she looked down at her Siberian Husky. “I need you, too, my baby boy.”
He seemed to smile at her and then trotted out of the room, most likely to find a place to nap since he wasn’t getting any of her baked goods.
It took a few hours, but soon, the brownies were baked, mostly cooled, and in a container so she could take them to the senior center. She checked the clock and was grateful that she’d woken up before the crack of dawn so her day started early enough that she could do everything that she wanted to and still rest. She quickly changed into some cute jeans and a top that didn’t look like she’d slept in it. There wasn’t much she could do with her hair today, but a cute bun that was actually brushed counted for something.
Then she pulled on a light jacket, stuffed her feet into some cute boots, and grabbed her baked goods.
“Sorry, Jasper, I’ll come home to you soon, and then we’ll go for a W-A-L-K.”
His eyes brightened at that comment, and she held back a wince. Apparently, the way she’d spelled it meant that he actually knew what the word meant. She’d have to find a new word that meant the same thing. Much like when she had been younger, and her family had stopped using the word snack, and started to use the word treat, and then had to spell out the words. Either way, their dog had always known when it was time for something good to eat.
Dogs were much smarter than people gave them credit for.
Arden let her Bluetooth in her car work and continued listening to her book as she headed towards the senior center.
Sandy, the woman in charge of the center, or at least in charge of welcoming her, smiled as Arden walked in. “Oh, good. I remember you said you were going to stop by, but I’m glad you did.”
Arden didn’t take offense to that statement. Sometimes, even though she really wanted to come, her body wouldn’t let her. And the people working here, they truly understood why Arden sometimes didn’t show up. Oh, yes, she called and came by as soon as she could with baked goods. But she hated letting people down. Therefore, having a job and other things where she could work from home or keep those who relied on her to a minimum was good for her.
She might be a few decades younger than the people who lived in the center, but a couple of them had her same disease, and sometimes, she felt like she was their age.
But today was a good day, at least mostly, and she was going to stop thinking about that.
“So, I have a new recipe. It has butterscotch in it.”
“George is going to love that. You know him and his butterscotch sweet tooth.”
Arden smiled and handed over the container. “Oh, I do. Plus, a little birdie told me you like butterscotch, too.”
Sandy beamed. “I will have one tiny brownie. I’m not allowed to have another.” She tapped her hip, and Arden just smiled. Sandy was in her forties, looked like she was at least a decade younger, and was very fit. It was hard work at the center. Plus, she knew that Sandy did as many half marathons and 5Ks as she could.
Arden had never even tried to do one of those. She only ran if she thought a zombie might be chasing her. Oh, she ran if she was walking Jasper, and he got a little too excited, but that wasn’t that often. Jasper was a good boy and liked to take care of her. Dragging her around and forcing her to run was not a way to do that.
“You look amazing.”
“And you are wonderful to say that. Now, let’s dig into these, and you can say hello to the few people in the TV and craft rooms.”
“As long as I’m not interrupting anything,” Arden said quickly.
“You aren’t. George and the others will love to see you.”
“I’ll be glad to see them, too.”
About eighty percent of this particular senior center’s occupants had no family members. That wasn’t always the case, but right now, there were a lot of lonely peo
ple at the center, and if Arden could help at least a bit just by being there, that was good.
It was one of her worst fears to one day be in a center like this without anyone visiting her.
She pushed that thought away, thinking it ridiculous. She had four overprotective brothers that were always there for her. There was no way she would end up like this. Even if she one day found herself not being able to live on her own because her illness got the best of her, she’d have a place to go.
She would always have someone to rely on.
She just wished she could be someone they could rely on, too. And…that was enough of that.
“Okay, darling, I see you brought me something sweet to eat,” George said, his bushy brows waggling as he laughed with her.
“You’re allowed to have one. You know the rules.” Arden did her best to sound prim and proper as she sat next to the older man and waved at the others as they looked up from their books or their chess games or from the TV.
Everyone knew her here, and it felt like another home. She liked it, even though her energy was lagging just a bit from her long day.
“When are you going to bring a nice man for us to meet?” Samantha said as she came to sit next to them. Samantha was in her seventies and could probably run a half marathon if she wanted. Arden seriously had no idea how the other woman did it.
“I’ve brought all of my brothers here before.”
“Brothers, ha!” Samantha flipped her hand in the air. “Not that I don’t admire the eye candy,” Samantha said, laughing.
“I don’t think so,” Arden said, holding up her hands. “Never use the phrase eye candy when you’re talking about my brothers. Please.”
“I don’t know, Arden, they are some nice hunks of meat,” George said, laughing.
“I have no idea if hunks of meat is a real phrase, but we’re just never going to repeat it. As for bringing a nice young man? I have George right here. What other man do I need?” Arden said.
Samantha met George’s gaze, and then they both looked at Arden. She held up her hands in protest again before reaching down for the tray of brownies. “How about we just eat brownies and never talk about this again?”
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