The Landry Family Series: Part Two

by Adriana Locke

  Sienna laughs through the line. “Since when did you have an eye for design?”

  “I don’t,” I giggle. “I just know what I like.”

  “You have good taste because I think you’re right.”

  “So my taste is good because it matches yours? What if I liked it in reverse? Then would my taste suck?”

  “It would be less on-point, yes,” she teases me. “Good call though. I’ll keep playing with these.”

  Her keyboard clacks faintly in the distance. I imagine a pencil between her teeth, her hair in a messy ponytail, like she used to do when we were growing up and she was working on an essay for Mrs. Podaski’s class.

  “Sienna?”

  “What?”

  “Are you serious about moving to Illinois?”

  “Yeah,” she admits on a sigh. “I think it’s a great opportunity for me, Cam. I have a feeling about it. It’s the opening I’ve been waiting on.”

  “Then you should take it. I just don’t know why you can’t stay here and do things.”

  “If I stay here, I’ll do what I’ve done for the last however many months I’ve been home. Nothing. I just … I can’t be happy volunteering and organizing things and being Mom,” she laughs. “I know you love that and I’m proud of you for doing it. The world needs more selfless people. I’m just selfish, I guess.”

  “You are not,” I object.

  “Maybe not. I don’t feel like I am. I just want to see the world. Meet people. Try different things. See what’s out there, you know? I know what’s here and it’s wonderful. I’m not knocking it at all. I just want more experiences.”

  “You have wanderlust.”

  “I have wanderlust,” she agrees.

  “I can appreciate that. I think it sounds fun to not be tied down to one place.”

  “Want to come with me?”

  “No.”

  “You answered that pretty quickly.”

  “Yeah, well …” My voice trails off into a smile. “I’m happy here right now.”

  “Because of Dom?”

  “Yeah.” Fiddling with the drawstring of the workout pants I put on earlier, I take a deep breath. “He’s having lunch with Ford and I tomorrow afternoon.”

  She gasps. “What? You’re serious? Cam. That’s … that’s wow.”

  “I know.”

  “Give me a minute here. Just … wow.”

  Pacing through the kitchen, I remember Ford’s voice as he accepted my offer. He’s the only one I could ask, besides Sienna. The others would be too overbearing. Too judgmental. Too illogical. Still, I’m not convinced beyond a reasonable doubt this will end up in a good place with Ford either.

  I can’t blame them. I’ve always looked at their interest to keep me safe as an asset. There’s a level of comfort knowing you have a family that loves you as much as mine does me. It’s never bothered me at all … until lately.

  “You know what? It’s not their call who I date,” I insist, more to placate myself than Sienna. “If I want to see Dominic, then I will. This is not up for Ford’s approval. This is an olive branch so they’ll get off my back.”

  “This is totally up for Ford’s approval or you wouldn’t be doing it.” She sighs again. “If it matters what I think, and of course it does because I’m your twin sister, I think you’re doing the right thing.”

  I stop pacing. “You do?”

  “Of course I do. You know I like Dom. Yes, maybe he’s not what our parents expect, but I don’t think it’s going to be that big of a deal.”

  “What about the Nolan part?”

  “Yeahhhh … That might be a little tricky. But it’s not like he had anything to do with Nolan trying to sabotage Barrett. He doesn’t even know his uncle, right? Not really?”

  “No, not really. But Nolan really fucked Barrett over. I’ll never forget that night when Lincoln found the evidence on the computer of Nolan trying to undermine Barrett’s campaign.”

  Sienna clicks her tongue in agreement. “I still think you’re fine. They rallied around Alison and she was, like, investigated before she moved here. Remember that? Wasn’t it for assault or something?”

  I sink against the table, Dom’s painful past weighing heavily on my heart. “What if Dom has done something? But there was a reason for it?”

  “Cam …”

  A thunderous bang hits my front door, making me jump. It’s followed by the doorbell ringing once, twice, three times. “Sienna, let me call you back.”

  “I want to finish this conversation.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Are you fine?”

  “Yes,” I laugh, peeking through the peephole. “Dom’s here. Let me call you back.”

  “Fine, fine. Have fun with the man.”

  I end the call and pull open the door. “Hey, babe.” My smile falters as I see the look on his face. “Dom, what’s wrong?”

  His jaw is set, his eyes cold, as he storms in past me. He’s on the verge of exploding, barely containing the energy that’s threatening to boil over. I can see it. Feel it. Take a step backwards because of it.

  “Dom?” I ask again, shutting the door. My stomach flips as I wait for some kind of inkling as to what’s happening. “What’s going on?”

  With his eyes trained on a spot across the room, he speaks. “If you have something you want to tell me, now would be the time.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Now, Cam.”

  “I have nothing to tell you,” I say, bewildered. “Why … what … I’m so confused.”

  At the pace of a snail, he pivots on his heel. His glare is a mixture of anger and resentment as it settles on me. “Did you loan money to Nate?”

  The look in his eye has a new meaning and I feel my hands tremble. “Yes,” I say, clearing my throat. “I did.”

  “Goddamn it,” he growls, running a hand through his hair. “Why in the hell did you do that?”

  “He’s going to pay me back.”

  “Don’t you get it?” he says, laughing through his teeth. “It isn’t about whether he pays you back or not, because he will. I know that. You know that. He knows that.”

  There are too many words on the tip of my tongue to get one out. I just look up at him as he towers over me, his shoulders set back so he’s at full height, and try to wrap my brain around this.

  “Then what’s the problem?” I ask, choosing my words with care. “He needed it. I have it. So what?”

  “So what?” he asks, raising a brow. “It’s never occurred to you how abnormal it looks to just wire someone ten thousand dollars?

  “No. I just helped your brother out. I—”

  “Listen to me,” he says, taking a step my way, “you didn’t just help my brother out. You fucked yourself over.”

  “What?” I stammer. “I … This is crazy. You’re crazy.”

  Giving him a glare of my own, I push by him and head into the kitchen. The light is bright, streaming in from the window that overlooks the golf course behind my house. The sponge I just tossed in the sink still lies there and I wonder if there is a way to rewind the last few minutes and go back to talking to Sienna.

  Instead, his footsteps ring through the hallway and into the room behind me. With a final look at the serenity outside, I turn to face him. He’s standing by the island watching me. His jaw is a little less clenched, but there’s no smile on his handsome face.

  “I’m so mad right now …” He blows out a breath, his hand shaking as he runs it through his hair. “I shouldn’t even be here. I’m just gonna go.”

  “No, wait,” I say as he turns away. “Stay. Please.”

  “This isn’t something your little smile can fix.”

  “But I don’t understand. What did I do that was so wrong?”

  Looking at the ceiling, his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. His chest is rising and falling so quickly, I know he’s trying to calm himself. I’ve seen him like this one time before when a guy said something disgusting t
o me at The Gold Room. If it weren’t for Nate, I’m not sure he wouldn’t have ended up in jail that night.

  “You just proved them right,” he says simply. I wait for more, but that’s it. That’s all he says.

  “I proved who right?”

  “Everyone.” His arms stretch to the sides, his eyes blazing. “You proved them all fucking right. Except, you know what? They aren’t fucking right.”

  “What?” I shake my head, trying to make sense of this insanity as he just stares at me like he’s going to shoot fireballs my way. “What does being right and them—whoever they are—and my loan to Nate have to do with each other?”

  “You’re not stupid. Think about it.”

  “Um …”

  He forces a smile, but it’s lethal. “If you’d given him a thousand, two, five—I would’ve been annoyed but not pissed. It’s ten thousand dollars, Cam. Is this normal behavior for you? To just shoot large sums of money to someone else’s account?”

  “Of course not,” I huff.

  He takes a deep, haggard breath before looking at me again. Blinking back tears, I stand immobilized in the kitchen and watch him struggle to find the words he wants to say.

  “I know you think your family will hate me.”

  “That’s not true,” I say, although it’s not completely false either.

  “Nah, it is. That’s just the truth.” He looks around the kitchen before settling his gaze on me again. “I can’t say I blame you for thinking that or them for feeling that way. Look at me. Look at you.”

  “I am looking at you,” I gulp. “And I know that even if they don’t … even if it takes a second for some of them to accept the idea, it won’t be because of you, Dominic.”

  He nods. “I agree with that. It’ll be because of everything else. Of shit like this—of appearances and assumptions.”

  Forcing a swallow, I watch the depth of the blues of his eyes swirl together. They’re a tidal wave of unnamed emotions that I could lose myself in … in more ways than one.

  “When did you start caring about assumptions?” I ask through the dryness of my throat.

  My question does nothing to stop the intensity etching his face or the way his eyes are dead-set on mine. “When I agreed to go with you to meet your brother.”

  As the words come out, his hands go through his hair, lifting the silky locks and tugging them in frustration. It’s like he knows he’s opened a can of worms and now he has no choice but to take off the lid and let the contents spill, no matter how painful.

  “I thought if I went that maybe, you know, this thing between us could …”

  “What, Dom?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it was going to be something for a while. Maybe I wasn’t going to wake up one morning and see you’d realized you’re better off without me.”

  I can’t even respond to that. My heart tightens, physically paining me that he ever even considered that, while I’m speechless at the realization that maybe he’d hoped for that too.

  Then reality hits. That was all in past tense.

  “Do you still hope for that?” I ask, biting back a rush of emotion that will only complicate things.

  “Can I? Really?” His shoulders lift, almost touching his ears, before falling. “Your family is everything to you. Here I am, about to meet them, and look at what I’m walking in to. They say you can’t make a first impression twice. You’ve just taken my ability to make a decent one.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did,” he insists. “You’ve linked my fate with Nate’s. If something happens with that loan …”

  My fingers itch to hug him, to wrap around his middle and press my face against his chest. To stop the anger that’s flowing back to the surface before it spills over.

  “As soon as they find out, and they will, their perception of me and you, will be linked with Nate,” he gruffs. “They’ll assume I’m from a family of freeloaders and tell you to get the fuck away before I really damage you.”

  “That’s not true,” I sniffle. “Besides, I’ll do whatever and whoever I want.”

  For that, I get another half-smile. “That’s not true. You do whatever they tell you, whenever they tell you to do it. You don’t do jack shit without them telling you it’s okay.”

  “I do you, don’t I?” I fire back.

  He clenches his teeth once more. “Careful,” he warns. After a pointed glance, he takes a step back. “You stay in this little box they’ve put you in and go through the motions of your life. I think doing me is the first thing you’ve ever done that’s against status quo. You’ve hidden me to the point that you have to—”

  “I haven’t hidden you!” I interject. “And you haven’t wanted to meet them. You’ve been downright against it, so don’t even shove that all on me.”

  The burn is quick and hot as it uncurls from the base of my throat. The tears I blink back are scalding and he sees them. It forces him to look away.

  “Okay. That’s true.” When he speaks again, his voice is a touch softer. “You are so capable, Camilla. You’re ridiculously smart, stunningly beautiful, the sweetest heart. It drives me insane watching you jump through hoops they’ve set for you. You do the charity work you think you should do but don’t love—”

  “That’s not true! I love working with the Landry Holdings charities.”

  He lifts brow. “You love it? You jump out of bed in the morning raring to go? When is the last time you found something you loved to do? And I don’t mean shopping or skiing. I mean something for you. Like what fighting is for me—when I’m doing it, I feel like me. Nothing else feels that way.”

  I don’t respond.

  “Answer me, Cam.”

  “I don’t know.”

  Heaving a breath, he paces a circle, knotting his hands through his hair again. “The point is, you’re gonna have a mess on your hands.”

  “Well, I guess it’s my mess, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, it’s your mess. It’s just not contained to you.”

  A heaviness descends on me, and suddenly, I feel exhausted. My head hurts, my eyes are blurry, and my legs just want to collapse me into a chair.

  “Are you going to tell them about the money?” he asks.

  “It’s none of their business.”

  “While I agree with that probably more than you even do, that’s not going to keep them from finding out.”

  My hands go to my hips. “Aren’t you the one that tells me I need to start standing on my own two feet?”

  “Sweetheart,” he says with more saltiness than sweetness, “you’re the one that’s set the precedent that they can look in your accounts and monitor your every movement. If you think that’s going to miraculously not happen with this, you’re wrong.”

  “Doesn’t mean I have to explain it.”

  “Nah, you’re right. Just let them think you handle money like a child and I’m some kind of low life that just wants you for your cash. If that’s the case, I can’t even blame them this time.”

  I grab a piece of paper towel and pat under my eyes. It comes back black, stained with the mascara I applied so carefully in case I saw Dominic again today. I just didn’t expect it to come off like this.

  “Cam …” His voice is lower now, the tenderness I’m used to most days buried not quite as deep as before.

  “Shut up.”

  “I won’t shut up.” He stalks around the island, his eyes set firmly on mine. “This is why I don’t want you at the bar. This is the reason I tell you to stay away from the gym.”

  “Because I might loan everyone money?” I crack, feeling my moxie dissipate as he reaches me.

  He almost smiles. “No, because you’re too … you’re too nice for your own good.” He touches my chin and tips my head back so I’m looking up at him. The anger in his eyes fades and in its place is a concern that makes me want to burrow my head in his chest. “Your family has fucked you over by sheltering you so much.”

  “They’
ve given me a giver’s heart.”

  “What they’ve given you is a rose-colored version of the real world and have been there to scoop you up from every problem you’ve ever had,” he sighs. “You rest on your laurels. You absolutely could walk into a room and take care of yourself, but you don’t. And that drives me insane. You’ve let them make you weak, when all I see when I look at you is a damn strong woman.”

  A smile tickles my lips. As he takes it in, his posture softens.

  “You don’t bother to analyze things sometimes, because it’ll all be okay because it always is,” he says. “You know what? Sometimes it’s not.”

  “This will be.”

  “It will be,” he acknowledges. “But you have to start being the woman I know you are all the time, not just some of the time, Cam. You just see the good in everything and I’m afraid …”

  “What?” I whisper.

  “The world isn’t like the gated community you’ve lived in your whole life. My world specifically isn’t the one you’re used to. If something happened to you because of me …” He reaches for me. I’m in his arms before he even gets them extended.

  Nuzzling my face in his white t-shirt, I breathe in the smell of linen mixed with cedar—something so unique and so Dom.

  His hands run up and down my back, his cheek pressed against the top of my head. We stand in the kitchen, holding one another.

  “Are you still going to go with me tomorrow?” I ask, my voice crackling.

  “I have to now. If I don’t, they’ll think we took the money and ran.”

  “They will not.”

  He pulls away, his eyes now brimming with an anxiety that is contagious. “I’ll be honest with you. If this was anyone else, I’d call it quits right now. I’d be looking at this like it’s a fight between two different weight classes.”

  My hand trembles as I play with my earring, trying to hold on to the if this was anyone else part.

  “I gotta go. I’m working a shift at the bar tonight for Nate.”

  “I’ll call Ford and tell him we won’t meet for lunch tomorrow.”