Fred took the computer with a grin and walked away without even a thank you. And I entered the next realm of hell.
After meeting all three sisters, Della, Willa and Rella, as well as the one brother, Will—why there was a Will and a Willa, I didn’t know—I was then introduced to the copious amounts of children running around. All of which I only had a chance to look at in their screaming banshee forms as they catapulted themselves into the pool.
For the next thirty minutes I sat beside Hunt on a pool lounger while his family threw barbs either my way or Hunt’s.
At least for Hunt, he mostly ignored them.
He flinched more when they were thrown at me than when they were thrown at him.
Which made me feel a little bit better about what he was doing and why we were there.
At one point, Hunt had gotten up to get a drink and I thought I might actually have to talk to someone by myself, but then Fred had come out with burger patties.
Hunt came back with my drink and set it on the table.
Then one of the little demon spawns came right over and hit the damn drink over with a pool noodle. Then laughed.
Did any of the adults do anything?
Nope.
Not even a one.
They looked over, saw what had happened, and went back to their conversing without including either me or Hunt.
It was truly awful.
“You know,” I said when he sat down, handing me his drink for me to take a sip. “I’m surprised you don’t have a name like them.”
Thank God that he didn’t.
How did they ever get the right name when they were calling them out?
Hunt opened his mouth to explain, but apparently one of the sisters hadn’t been totally detached from us after all.
“Hunt’s actually adopted,” who I thought was Rella said. “That’s why his name is different than ours.”
That actually explained a lot.
Except, when Rella walked away to get a drink, Hunt sighed long and loud.
Really softly, Hunt lowered his voice and leaned into me, almost whispering against my ear. “I’m not actually adopted. My parents just say I am. I’m the result of my dad’s affair with his secretary. When I was born, Mom took me in, and the secretary had to sign away her rights to stay on at the company and continue drawing a paycheck. It’s easier to claim that I’m not theirs, though, because that’s easier than having to explain that I’m only a half-brother.”
My eyes were wide when I turned my face to stare at the man beside me. “Holy shit.”
And I wasn’t saying ‘holy shit’ just because of what he’d just told me. When I’d turned, he hadn’t pulled back, and my lips brushed against the corner of Hunt’s mouth.
He didn’t move his face away as he continued talking. “I found out by cleaning off my father’s computer when I was eleven. The bad thing is, they all know.” He jerked his head in their direction. “They’ve been selling this lie that I’m adopted since.”
“They sound like awful people,” I admitted. “Why do you even hang around them?”
Over the course of an hour that we’d been there, they’d all been terrible to him. Seriously, he’d sat down and they’d all handed him computers, as if the only reason he was there was to fix their shit and not have to take it to the computer place. Convenience. That was all he was to them.
Getting kind of angry now, I said, “You should just slow all their computers down to the point where they go buy new ones. Or do annoying things like make their computer browsers close and not re-open with all the tabs they had up.”
His lips twitched. “If I fix it well, they won’t come calling. And I won’t feel obligated to stop by any time soon.”
“You shouldn’t feel obligated anyway,” I told him bluntly. “These people are like cancer. I haven’t seen a single redeeming quality in any of them. Not even the kids. They’re all assholes just like their parents.”
Hunt grinned and I had the craziest urge to lean forward and press my lips to his.
I was about to, too, when I heard a throat clear.
“Would you mind running in the house and getting me a butter knife? It’s in the drawer next to the refrigerator,” Della or maybe Willa asked sweetly.
I pursed my lips but nodded all the same.
Anything to get me out of the damn sideshow that I was currently being forced to be a part of.
“You can use the side door over there.” He gestured with his head toward a side door that wouldn’t make me go through the entire house. “And unless they moved them, they’re actually in the drawer next to the sink.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, Hunt.”
With my head definitely wandering—because seriously, how in the ever-loving fuck had Hunt been raised by these people and not turned into a complete lunatic—I went into the kitchen in search of the butter knife.
Out of curiosity, I opened the drawer that they’d said to open and found the drawer full of junk and old photos. And right on top of those old photos was a photo of Hunt with his arm around a beautiful woman with long, dark hair.
Her hair was beautiful. I half wished that I could find someone that would make my hair do something close to that.
I mean, how the hell did she make it look so shiny and sleek?
The rest of her was just as beautiful as her hair.
I mean, she had a killer set of legs, beautiful plump breasts, and a smile that looked like she paid quite a few grand for it.
She also had not a single lick of fat on her.
I’m talking, none.
Like, even her arm pits didn’t look like she even had a hint of fat there.
I had to prop my arm up on my hip to make it appear as if I didn’t.
This woman had her arm close to her side.
I bet she didn’t ever have to think about arm fat in her photos.
Obviously.
Rolling my eyes, I put the photo back. I would not fall for whatever game they were playing.
I went to the correct drawer and picked up the butter knife that they ‘needed’ and then started to the door. I was thwarted from leaving by the stupid shiny bowl that was sitting on the table next to the door.
With nothing for it, I stopped at the bowl of M&M’s, grabbed a handful, and popped a few in my mouth.
Ahh, heaven.
I hadn’t had the peanut ones in years.
I’d been a super disciplined person over the last couple of years, only having straight sugar on the weekends when I had time to compensate for the sugar intake by working out.
But if anything called for straight up sugary carbs, meeting and being forced to hang out with Hunt’s asshole of a family was definitely it.
After I got outside, I allowed my eyes to adjust to the brightness.
I looked over, my eyes taking in the pool where all the kids were playing.
It was a giant of a pool. Kidney-shaped with a fucking beach entry on one side, and a waterslide on the other, it was a little kid’s dream.
Out of habit, I counted the heads of the children. I’d been doing it randomly throughout the entire day.
Six.
I frowned and came to a stop, butter knife in one hand, and a handful of M&M’s that I was probably going to regret later in the other.
There should only be five heads in the pool…
That’s when I saw the sixth head bob up, then sink slowly back down.
There was no splashing.
There was no flailing.
There was no sound at all.
Just a slow sinking, a bob back up, and then a sinking again.
Like a bobber on a lake in the middle of a calm day.
Sink. Up. Sink. Up.
That’s when it hit me.
Like a battering ram straight to the chest.
I ran across the yard, through the rose bushes, over the wall that separated the pool from the back yard, and all but dove into the pool in my need to get to the child that
most assuredly wasn’t supposed to be in the pool.
I caught the boy up around the body, kicking lightly to keep myself and him afloat, and started to pound him on the back.
He coughed and spewed water, eventually throwing up on me.
“Oh no! Jordan!” I heard one of the kids say. “Is he okay?”
The baby’s name was apparently Jordan. The rest of the kids in the pool finally noticed that something was going on.
“Jordan! Oh my God! Why are you in the pool without your floatie?” I heard the frantic niece of Hunt say.
I wasn’t sure of her name. I couldn’t remember them.
None of them had introduced themselves to me, and I could only guess at who they were at this point.
“You okay, buddy?” I said softly, ignoring the vomit that was down my chest and looking the child in his eyes.
They were wide and terrified.
And he threw himself toward me, wrapping his arms so tight around my neck that at first I was surprised by the power of a two-year-old’s grip.
“Give him to me!” I heard screamed.
I made my way toward the edge of the pool, surprised when I saw that Hunt was in the pool next to me.
He was just standing there, waist deep, staring at me. His eyes were wide and terrified, and he looked like he couldn’t quite decide whether or not to come to me or not.
I swallowed hard and looked away, my gaze going to the sister of Hunt’s, the mother of the little boy.
She gestured with one impatient hand for me to give the boy to her, and I could do nothing less.
She snatched him from me the moment that I got close enough, and then he was halfway across the pool’s sidewalk as they all converged on him.
Hunt hadn’t moved out of the pool, and neither had I.
I started to cry then, and he pulled me into his arms. Vomit and all.
“Can we eat now?” Fred asked from his spot on the chair where he’d planted himself at some point.
Hell, he was so focused on his phone that I wondered if he even realized how fucking scary the last two minutes had been.
“I hate them,” he grumbled as he pressed his forehead against mine. “I hate them. I hate them. I hate them.”
“I hate them, too,” I told him. “I think it’s time to go now.”
He growled. “Do you have clothes to change into in your purse?”
He’d suggested I get them, so of course I had some. I did listen to instructions very well.
“Yes.”
He let me go, and I sank a little bit, some of the vomit floating off of me and into the pool around me.
The pool that the children were still swimming in without a care in their little worlds.
Must be nice.
Because I was seriously shaken to my core.
Hunt tugged at my hand and I reluctantly pulled myself from the pool.
My brand new shoes were gone, and my legs looked like I’d traipsed through thorns…
Which, now that I thought about it, I’d actually done.
“Lovely,” I said as I looked down at all the blood that was coating those scratches.
CHAPTER 10
I find myself using the word ‘shitshow’ significantly more than I used to.
-Hunt to Wyett
HUNT
My heart was still thundering.
I’d been watching for Wyett to come back out and trying to ignore my sister’s talking about how ‘unsuitable’ she was for me when I’d seen her gaze go to the pool as she came out the door.
Her face went from annoyed to confused to horror-stricken in the span of a few seconds.
The moment that she started running, I pushed all three of my sisters out of the way in my haste to get to the pool myself.
It took me all of ten seconds to ascertain what was going on, but by the time that I got to the pool and jumped in, Wyett already had my nephew—one that I’d never met until today—in her arms and she was holding him to her.
My heart was steadily pounding away, unaware that there was no other danger to be had.
After she gave up my nephew, my brain still felt foggy.
Foggy until I pulled her into my arms and curled her into me as she cried.
It was then that I realized the importance of her coming to me for comfort.
Vaguely I heard my mother say something about how awful Wyett looked in her wet clothes, and my ire began to rise.
That fucking bitch.
Seriously, she was the biggest bitch of them all.
Gathering my girl closer, I asked her a question, listened to an answer, and helped get her out of the pool.
But all the while, my focus was on how bitchy my sisters were being in that instance.
“Grab your bag and head into the house. Go up the stairs and get a shower and wash off. I’ll be up there after I grab a change of clothes from my car,” I urged, glad that I’d insisted on having the clothes just in case we did end up getting dirty.
Because it was inevitable.
I came home, and my parents were going to have me doing something that caused me to get dirty in some way.
The sprinkler system wasn’t working—oh, Hunt can fix it.
Computer’s acting up—he can tear it apart and fix it for you in no time, even though you haven’t dusted it in eight years.
There seems to be some sort of leak with the pool. Can you take a look at it?
Seriously, I should’ve known years ago that this entire fucking thing was a farce of epic proportions.
I didn’t know why I kept coming here.
But after today? I wouldn’t be coming back.
I’d be blocking all their phone numbers and barring them from my life on top of that in every way.
I just couldn’t anymore.
They were assholes.
My wife had just saved their blood family’s life, and they couldn’t even thank her.
Hell, that poor kid was standing by the edge of my sister’s chair, looking pitiful, while Willa chatted away about all the M&M’s that were scattered across the floor that Wyett had dropped.
Gritting my teeth, I pulled out my phone, thankful that I had it in a waterproof case, and placed a call.
“Hunt? Is that really you?” my brother-in-law, Phil, answered. “How the hell are you, man?”
I ungritted my teeth.
Out of all of my brothers-in-law, Phil was actually one of the better ones.
“Your wife decided to trash my wife for the last hour, chose to whisper like a catty bitch instead of watch your kid, and he nearly drowned in the pool. The two-year-old. My wife saved him from drowning, but now your poor kid looks like he’s about to cry at any second and Willa’s too busy bitching about how fat she thinks my wife is to notice or care,” I said without preamble. “Now, I’m not sure if you trust someone to watch your kid who nearly let him drown, but I felt like you needed to know.”
Phil’s curse was succulent.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said. “Holy fucking shit.”
I hung up and shoved the phone back into my pocket and then walked to my family.
They all stopped talking, but not because they were thinking that I could just now hear—they didn’t care if I heard them talking shit about my girl—but likely because of the look on my face.
“I am dead to you,” I said softly. “I no longer exist at all. The next time that one of you needs your computer fixed, or a bail out, or even someone to watch your dog—you can count me out. I no longer exist to you. Wyett no longer exists to you.” I turned my gaze to Willa. “I hope he divorces you. I hope that you see how utterly awful of a person you are. I hope that tonight you can’t sleep as you think about your young child nearly dying because you were over here talking about my wife and how fat you think she is instead of watching your kid as he slowly drowned in the pool. And I hope that it sits like a bitter pill in your throat as you think about my sexy as fuck wife saving your son from dying.”
I turned to my ‘mother.’
“And you,” I spat. “Thanks but no thanks. I’m not your child. I’m some whore’s son. That is actually better for me. I really appreciate you saying that I’m adopted all those years, though. It makes me feel better that people won’t know that I’m related to this asshole family in any way by blood.”
I paused. “And seriously, don’t come knocking when shit hits the fan. Leave me out of it.”
Shit hitting the fan being me going around digging for their dirty laundry and airing it out.
Because I would.
After today, there were some things that they needed to atone for.
A lot of things that I’d been covering up that I wouldn’t be any longer.
With that, I walked away and didn’t look back.
Stripping off my soiled shirt, I tossed it on the ground next to my car.
After grabbing my clothes from the trunk, I headed up to my room, my head in the clouds, and didn’t think about the fact that Wyett was likely naked on the other side of the door.
At least not until I pushed it open and walked in on her in just her towel.
Her beautiful breasts were spilling out of the tiny white towel that was wrapped around her, and the slice of upper legs peeking out was even more enticing at the slit of the towel that wouldn’t quite cover her lower half.
“Eep,” she said, starting to turn away.
Only, her eyes caught on mine before they did and she froze like a deer in headlights.
“Hunt…”
I couldn’t help it.
I needed it.
I needed her.
I wanted her.
I… just couldn’t.
I took two long strides her way, slamming the door as I went, and caught her up around the waist.
“Hunt!” she gasped.
Then I had her pushed against the bedroom door with my body pressing against hers.
Her eyes were wide, and I couldn’t stop myself from pressing my lips to hers.
Blame it on adrenaline. Blame it on my lack of control over the situation—something in which I had to have at all times, or I got a bit lost.
Whatever my reasoning, I lost all semblance of control in that instant.
The moment my mouth touched hers, everything exploded around us.
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