Busted (Stacked Deck Book 11)

by Emilia Finn

  I know they don’t have him, but I still glance toward the building in search of the elusive Chester.

  Rounding one last turn, I make my way into the alleyway that backs against Inkalot. I move slow, since the alley is narrow and my truck, wide. Finally turning into the tiny parking space, I take extra care when the snow turns just a little heavier, and my windshield requires a little help from the wipers to keep it off.

  Yanking on the brake and killing the engine, I sit for a moment and study Em while she studies the back of the building. “Whatcha thinking?”

  She nibbles on her lips and glances across to me. Shrugging, she goes back to studying the empty building. “About… life, I guess.”

  “What about it?”

  “Just how crazy it is, I suppose. How unpredictable and mean it can be.” She grimaces. “This year was insane for us. Things changed – good changes, and bad changes – and though it’s all mostly back to normal, I still feel a little bitter about it all.”

  “Because I was a dick to you?” I swallow down my nerves and nod, because it’s true. I was a dick, and there’s no way around that. “I made bad choices this year, and they hurt you.”

  She nods, soft and subtle. “This year hurt a lot, and it feels like no one acknowledges it. Like…” She glances over to me. “I know I just have to get over it, and I know, in everyone else’s eyes, the shit this year was just a blip in their worlds.

  “My family is completely ignoring the fact that something happened – which is fine,” she adds. “It’s Daddy’s coping mechanism. And it’s not like we’re together anymore, so there’s no need to push the point, right? But still, a petulant slice of my brain says that I got a shitty deal, and I’m the only one who felt it. And feeling that way also annoys me, because honestly, was it all that bad? I was dumped. Boo-friggin’-hoo. It happens to people every single day, so why should the world stop and pity mine?”

  “Because yours was with your best friend,” I murmur. “And now you’re grieving what was lost.”

  “But you’re right here!” she explodes. “I haven’t lost you. Not really. And you said sorry a thousand times, so that’s done now. There’s nothing else to do about it.” Shaking her head, Em turns to her door and pushes it open.

  Scrambling out of mine, I race around the truck to meet Em at her side.

  “I’m being a brat,” she continues, “I want attention because I have a booboo, and now you’re talking about a Christmas vacation like it’s no big deal you’re skipping out on our family’s most important holiday.”

  “But—”

  “The tickets!” she exclaims. “I know. Too good to pass up. Cheap and exciting. I get it. And while you’re gone, maybe you’ll find someone to spend your time with, and then my best friend will have to choose again; me, his EmKat, or this potentially amazing chick from…” She looks to me. “Australia?”

  “Ireland, actually.”

  Emma stops, jolts like I punched her in the face, then snarls… but tries to act like she isn’t snarling. “You would, wouldn’t you? Ireland?” Her dimple pops on her shout. “That’s mine, you motherfucker! Ireland was mine.”

  She stomps toward the back of Ian’s shop and makes her way through the locks and security system. Pushing into the hall, Emma slaps one light on, then another, and spins back to me as I come through the door.

  “Are you trying to be an asshole? Are you trying to hurt me? Because you know I want to go to Ireland! I’ve been talking about it since I was five fucking years old. We made plans to see the Cliffs of Moher. And we were gonna get drunk on Guinness. Now you’re gonna go find yourself a Galway girl?”

  “Uh, Em—”

  “It’s like you get off on hurting me!”

  She walks backwards into the main area of the shop, slaps one last light on, but pins me with a glare.

  “I would have been your Galway girl, you fucking prick! We would have had the best time. But no, you take my idea, you sneak in one last session of ink on my time, so you can show it off to the pale girls, and then you’re gonna hop on the red-eye, on Christmas Day, which is my favorite holiday of the whole effing year. And, what? I’m supposed to be okay with that? Can I drive you to the airport? Would that be convenient for you? And then I’ll come home and pretend to be okay, because if I cry for you, my Daddy will be grossed out and sad at the same time. He’s not handling well that his daughters have sex, because god forbid we grow the fuck up and let a guy touch our vaginas. But hey, let’s not mention the fact Mom was barely older than we are now when they started dating.”

  “EmKat, you need to—”

  “I’m not okay with this, okay? I was mad, then I was sad. I’d lost my best friend and my boyfriend, then I got most of my best friend back, but the sex was no more. Which sucks, because the sex was fantastic, okay?”

  “Um…” Warmth fills my cheeks. “Okay. Thank you.”

  “I was going to ask you out at Christmas, since you’re not making a move. I was gonna see what we had, and start the new year right. But nope, I guess I didn’t check your schedule first, and now you’re too busy for me. And the new year is a write-off too, because you’ll be in the fucking air when the ball drops. You’re supposed to kiss at midnight for good luck! Not text your best friend, wait for him to land and turn his phone back on, and then do the awkward friend side-hug when he steps off the plane with his red-headed, freckly, Irish whore!”

  “You’re just gonna call her a whore? You don’t even know her.”

  “So you’ve already found one? That’s why you’re going to the destination I wanted, during a holiday I’d already laid dibs on, and since you’ve had an enormously draining year and not a whole lot of sex, you’ll be ready and raring to go. It’ll be like a fire hydrant, finally releasing and—”

  “Emma.” My blood pressure drops out my asshole, I swear. “You need to stop.”

  “Fuck you!” she explodes. “That’s my vacation spot, my holiday week, and my best friend. Did you think I’d be happy about this? I’ve officially run out of selflessness, you jackoff.”

  “I was gonna ask you to come,” I murmur.

  “Huh?”

  Shuffling my feet, and shrinking under the burning glare of a million suns, I reach into my back pocket and take out the tickets. “Um… you and me. I was gonna ask you to come away with me.”

  “Surprise!”

  Forty or so people jump out from, well, plain sight. There aren’t all that many places to hide in a tattoo shop, but because Emma was so tied up bitching at me, she’s yet to turn around.

  She spins now with a squeak of surprise as the women jump out, red-faced and laughing.

  The men… uh, well…

  “Bobby.” I lift my hands and clear my throat. “She was just…”

  “Ally called it!” Luke strides along the hallway at my back amid cackling laughter. “She said you two were totally hooking up.” He claps my shoulder so hard that I stumble forward. “‘The sex is fantastic’,” he preens. “I knew you had it in you, little brother.”

  “Daddy?” Emma’s coloring alternates between bright red, and deathly white. “Um…”

  “You’re grounded,” he seethes. “You’re banned from ever going near a boy again. You’re never moving out. I will never again hear you say ‘fire hydrant’ and not spew. And you,” he looks to me. His nostrils flare. His ears burn red. A vein in his forehead looks close to bursting. And his hands… are seconds away from belting me into the afterlife. “I will kill you.” Then he looks to my dad, who stands just three feet away. “I never agreed to this. I never said you could have one of my daughters.”

  “And yet,” Dad smirks, arrogant and, well, peacock-y in every way, “a Kincaid girl is eventually gonna change her last name to Hart. How do them apples taste?”

  “Hey, EmKat?” I say the words softly, just for her, and draw her eyes around to me. “Love you. Forever.”

  She’s mortified, dying of humiliation, and has a decade of grounding to
complete before she gets to move in with me. But she ambles over anyway, and slides under my arm. “You’re an ass. You set me up for that.”

  I scoff. “I can assure you, you telling Bobby that I’m good in the sack and will go off like a fire hydrant the very next time I touch a girl, was not in my plans. That was all you and your big mouth.”

  “Ireland?” she whispers. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” I sigh. “A best friend, a boyfriend, if you’ll give us a try, and a lifetime of saving us both from your bullshit.”

  “Deal. Mom! I’m going to Ireland!”

  “No you’re not!” Bobby booms.

  Rob

  Christmas, A Little Over One Year Later

  My hand wraps around EmKat so the warmth from her body seeps through her jacket and mine as we walk the length of our parents’ main driveway on Christmas morning.

  We’ve been together – officially – for a just over a year, and it has been pure bliss. All happiness, zero anxiety or troubles. We’re who we have always been: best friends who know every single thing about each other, and because of those foundations, we know how to make each other happy.

  Plus, the sex is great too.

  “Are you nervous?” I ask as we move from grass onto the first step leading up the porch. “This is a big deal.”

  My stomach jumps, and my heart flutters a thousand beats a second, but Emma’s smile is permanently etched onto her face.

  “I’m not freaking out,” she says. “I think it’s going to be really fun. What about you? Nervous?”

  “To tell Bobby Kincaid that I put a baby in his daughter’s belly?” I ask. “Yeah, I’m kinda shittin’, actually.”

  Em doesn’t even pretend to feel bad for me. She only throws her head back and laughs, then when we crest the top of the steps and approach the front door, she opens it without pause, and steps straight through.

  “Mom!”

  The first face we see belongs to Kit Kincaid. Blonde hair, blue eyes, smiles for days. She’s a hug, when Bobby is a fist to my fucking face.

  “Merry Christmas, Mommy.”

  “Merry Christmas, baby.” Kit tugs her daughter close and crushes her into a hug so tight that I worry she’ll pop that baby straight out.

  We’re ten weeks along; early days, prune-sized fetus, but so much excitement that we can’t keep it contained. So… Christmas announcement, here we come.

  “You look amazing.” Kit pulls back but holds onto her daughter’s arms to keep her close. “Glowing, baby. Happiness looks good on you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Em pulls away, only far enough to make room for me, so then Kit pulls me in for a hug.

  “How’s Daddy today, Mom?” Em slides under my arm the moment Kit and I separate. “Good mood?”

  “It’s Christmas, sweetheart, and all of his kids are in the same house for breakfast. He’s in the best mood he’s gonna be in all year.”

  “Works for me.” Em does a small toe-tappy dance, energy she needs to expel, but without the ability to blow anything up. “We’re gonna blow the roof off this place today. We’ve got news, Mommy.”

  Kit’s brows wing up.

  Nevermind about the not exploding things.

  “Well, alright.”

  Kit’s not a stupid woman. But she also enjoys a well-placed announcement, so she doesn’t demand the details right now. Instead, she leads us into the house, grabs my mom with a rough yank as we pass, then marches our group toward the living room to find most everyone else already here.

  Emma’s grandma sits on the couch with a cup of tea balancing on her knee, and right beside her, Maddi sits in black tights and an oversized sweater. They smile and chat, they sip their tea, and gossip about a million memories from times gone by.

  “The big storm took our power out last night,” Kit explains as we make our way through the crowds. “Did it get your place too?”

  “Yeah,” Emma says. “But we only lost power for an hour or so. Yours is still gone?”

  “Yeah, so Daddy built a fire to keep us warm. There’s still a heap of food leftover, too, if you’re hungry.”

  Em shrugs. “Sorry we’re late.” She spent an hour puking before she could get into the shower and get dressed for today. “We missed breakfast.”

  “It’s fine, baby. You’re here now. Bobby?” She steps up behind her husband, and pulls his attention around with barely more than a murmur of his name.

  He turns to her, smiling and affectionate, but then his eyes come to Emma, and his demeanor changes again. Not a dramatic change. Rather, from the subtle love of romance to the love of a father for his child.

  “About time.” Bobby pulls EmKat in for a hug that envelops her entire body, and transforms whatever lingering nausea she was carrying into the smile of a content woman. “I missed you, Little Bit. Waking up on Christmas morning and having you not already be here felt all wrong.”

  “I’m sorry. We got here as soon as we could.” She takes a step back but holds on to his hands. “You look so handsome today. New shirt?”

  He looks down at his pressed button-up, and beams. “Your mom gave it to me for Christmas.”

  “And you just had to put it on right away?” Emma snickers, teasing, but really, she approves.

  I look down at my own new shirt and scoff under my breath.

  “Is it time to do gifts for everyone else?” Em asks. “We’re really excited for what we got you.”

  “We have to go to the gym in an hour,” Bryan reminds us as he steps into the living room and glances across to Maddi.

  Nerves permeate the air, seep from Bry’s pores, and make my stomach swirl. And because it’s like a real, living thing, the anxiety in the air catches everyone’s attention and even makes Emma take a step back.

  Bryan moves to the tree that stands tall in front of the large picture window at the front of the house, and taking a small package from beneath, he steps up to Kit and Bobby, while Emma slips into my hold. She stands with her back to my front, and my arms go over her shoulders, my chin to the top of her head, and my hands press over her still-flat stomach.

  It’s flat, but it’s really happening. And the happiness that I feel every time I think of her making a family with me is enough that I could almost float away.

  We found out two weeks ago when she started puking each morning. We had a scan yesterday to confirm, and holding her hand while the OBGYN slid the doppler across her stomach, when the sound of our baby’s heartbeat filled the room, everything clicked into place.

  It felt right. So unbelievably right, when last time, everything felt wrong. There’s a baby in there, and if I survive today, I’m certain Emma and I will spend a lifetime of happiness together.

  I’ll never stop trying to save her. And she’ll never stop trying to make me smile.

  In front of us, Maddi crosses the room and stops beside Bryan, and while they whisper for a second, Kit’s eyes flicker between her son’s and her daughter’s. Bryan, then Emma. Back and forth.

  Kit’s grin notches up, and her hands begin to shake. She’s happy, but she’s freaking out.

  “Mom?” Bry murmurs. “Daddy. We, uh…” He coughs away a lump of nerves in his throat.

  When his face pales, Kit’s does too.

  “Baby?” She glances again between us all. “What’s wr—”

  “Here.” Bry thrusts the gift forward. “Merry Christmas. We… uh… it’s homemade.”

  “Oh wait!” Emma declares when she finally catches on. “Us too!”

  “Uh…” Brooke, the final sibling from the trio, steps forward with furrowed brows.

  She watches as Kit opens the gift Bry gave her, then as Kit takes out a positive pregnancy test, and tears plop onto her cheek.

  Then Brooke scowls at Em’s bouncing movements. “Well, this is a little unfair. We were gonna make an announcement today too.”

  “What?” Bobby explodes. His chest heaves. His daughters are having sex. “Stop it!”

  Sonia
/>
  Feliz Navidad

  Closing the front door with a FedEx parcel now resting in my hands, I shut out the cold, as well as the poor postal worker who works even on Christmas Day. Snow falls outside, constant, although not too heavily, which makes for the perfect backdrop to a wonderful Christmas – our second with our family intact once more.

  I have my granddaughter back now. Her husband. My great-granddaughter, and her man. All under one roof; something that was unheard of just eighteen months ago.

  We have to share Allyson and Luke with their other family, of course. Christmas morning has always been the Kincaids’ favorite time, but soon, they’ll be converging on my home. We’ll spend an evening together, eating a meal and smiling the way a family should on Christmas morning.

  With a skip in my step and a whistle on my breath, I turn away from the front door and take the package to my kitchen that already smells of heaven. Turkey in the oven, and beans on the stove. Bread is forming on the counter, and soon, I’ll pop that in the oven too. Wine sits chilling in the fridge, and gifts sparkle under the Christmas tree, waiting their turn to make someone happy.

  Curiosity beats at my heart like a drum, so setting the parcel on the counter, I take out a knife and slice the tape open, but while I do that, the phone trills in the next room.

  Christopher sits in there, reading his paper and sipping at a cup of coffee, so the trilling lasts only seconds before he picks it up, and his soft murmurs of greeting roll into the kitchen.

  “Sure, I’ll get her for you. Hold on.”

  Seeing as I’m the only ‘her’ in this house, I know the call is for me, but I remain where I am, staring at the contents of the box, and tilt my head in question.

  “Sonia?” Christopher stops by my side and offers the phone. “Nelly.”

  “Oh!” I take the phone and bring it to my ear. “Why did you send me sunglasses and a hat?”

  “I’m having more great-grandchildren!” Nelly screams her excitement. It’s like she’s twenty-something, and not the age she truly is. “Sonia! Three new babies, all announced in one morning.”