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Back to You: A Hudson Family Series- Book 1- Synclair and Reece

Page 3

by Chontelle Brison


  That was great for a while but when I asked mom if she had a brother she would only confirm it but refused more details. Yet, whenever the two were in the same room they did nothing but argue. Still, my mother had him as an emergency contact for the emergency room so there had to be something there.

  “My parents were immigrants from Dublin, Ireland,” UJ explained. “My father was a partner in a ship building company there, as he retired he sold his stake in the company and moved to the states. My parents settled in San Francisco in a Victorian home. My mother was already pregnant with your mother, Aggie, when they settled here. I came along about six years after, so there was a bit of age difference between us. It was particularly necessary to my father that Aggie embrace American culture. He had tutors teach her to speak without the Irish pronunciation, in fact, both my parents had tutors to help them communicate with less of an accent.” His blue eyes shimmered with tears and suddenly I felt like a tool for making him talk about this.

  “I’m sorry UJ.” I used my nickname for him and smiled. I placed my small hand over his large, chubby one. I wasn’t affectionate with many people, and seldom ever with my mother, but I needed him to know I cared. “We don’t have to do this right now, it’s not like it matters, you’re here and I love you.” I squeezed his hand, amazed to realize I meant it. I did love Uncle Jack, and I didn’t care if he and mom never got along or what happened in the past, I just knew he was on a short list of people who choose to believe in me and to give a crap whether I lived or died, UJ was my hero.

  “No love, it’s fine. You should know about your mom and your grandparents. My father was an extremely strict and hard man. He was not affectionate and demanded obedience from all around him. Years of running an enterprise and having money spoiled him because he was used to everyone doing what he wanted. He was also heavy handed.”

  “He hit you?” I was surprised, it never dawned on me that there could be reasons my mother turned to drugs, I was just too busy being pissed that she did.

  UJ’s sad blue eyes caught my hazel ones. I could tell he didn’t want to say anymore. One hand cupped my cheek as he sighed.

  “Dear god, you have your mother’s eyes,” He said wistfully. “Her name was Agatha but we always called her Aggie. She wasn’t always a drug addict. She was once full of life and beautiful.” Dropping his hand from my cheek, he stood up from the couch and turned away from me. I thought maybe he was done speaking but when he turned around, I saw the tears streaking down his cheeks.

  “I loved my big sister, Aggie. We were playmates and friends. She read me stories and would take the blame when I broke a dish or forgot a chore. It was her butt my father paddled.

  She wanted his attention and approval. I learned from a young age no one could please him, but she tried. When she was eighteen, my father decided it was time for her to date. But my father chose all the suitors. All of them with money, education and status. My sister didn’t like any of them but she endured the dates to please my father.

  When she came home crying after a date with a particular boy, she told me the man had attacked her. Her being 18, I was only ten, I ran and informed my father right away.” I could see UJ shake with anger at the memory.

  “My father, the bastard, made her strip so he could see the marks. She was bruised on her arms and her thighs had purple marks from being spread apart by force. Instead of comforting her or going after the raping bastard, he began to yell at Aggie. He told her he would be a laughingstock, he blamed her for not being stronger to fight off the beast.”

  “Grandpa was an asshole UJ,” I told him, the anger coming through loud and clear. I couldn’t imagine what my mom had gone through. Hell, I didn’t even know her name until I was ten, and that was only because a Police officer banged on our hotel door wanting to arrest her for something.

  First she was raped and then she was humiliated and blamed by the guy that was supposed to protect her, her father. No wonder my mother never spoke of her family, she probably hated their guts.

  “Yes, he was. You mom was never the same. She no longer tried to satisfy him. She started going to clubs, coming home drunk and getting into huge battles with my father. The crowd she hung with not only drank but also did various drugs. Sometimes I would come home from school and she would be on the couch in a weird fog. My mother would shoo me away and my father just ignored her.

  When I was eighteen, I left to Stanford for a business degree. Your mother overdosed while my parents and I were getting me settled into my dorm room. If the housekeeper hadn’t called 911, she would have died. It was when she got to the hospital that we found out she was pregnant with you, baby girl.” He gazed at me affectionately.

  “My father was livid, my mother just cried, and I just held your mom’s hand.” He sighed and sat back down on the worn cream colored, leather sofa. He grabbed my hands in his and turned so were knee to knee.

  “My father threw her out of the house, he told her not to come home, unless she was willing to go to rehab. Of course, my sister agreed, she had nowhere else to go and no money aside from what my parents provided. So she went to rehab and came home six weeks later, my parents seemed appeased and my father set her up with an appointment to see a physician for the baby.”

  “So what happened? What went wrong?” I wanted to know.

  “She was about seven months along when I found her in her room with a needle in her arm.”

  “What?” I reared back like I’d been slapped. “She was using while she was pregnant, she could have killed us both.” I practically shouted.

  “But she didn’t.” UJ pointed out. “But I did tell my father, I thought he would put her in rehab or a hospital. Instead, they had a huge fight, and she told me I was dead to her. The next morning she was gone. My parents tried to find her but apparently your father, was also her drug dealer and had persuaded her that all of her dreams would come true in Las Vegas.

  I pressured my parents to chase after her but my father was too stubborn and my mother would never go against his wishes. Everyone was forbidden to mention her name and all of her pictures were removed from the walls. The two times I found a number for her she hung up on me.

  When I was about twenty-five, I got the call that my parents had died in an accident. I was working on Wall Street as a stockbroker, at the time. It was a weird feeling of sadness and relief. I never wanted to be a stockbroker, I had done it for my father. I tried to reach out to your mother again, she told me she didn’t have parents and hung up on me. So, I let the lawyers deal with the will and the sale of the house and told them to send whatever the inheritance was to Aggie in Nevada. They had to use a private detective to get her address.

  I decided to take a vacation to Ireland. I was always curious about it, I wanted to see where my parents came from. So, I quit my job and flew to Ireland.” He sighed as if he was lost in a memory he wasn’t willing to share.

  “I remember my mom getting a lot of money, I don’t know how much. I know it was the first time I got dolls to play with. We stayed in Treasure Island on the strip. She talked about getting a house, going on a trip and a bunch of other stuff that never happened.” I told him bitterly.

  “She was given practically a million dollars, and you never got a house?” He asked in disbelief.

  “No, her new guy Randy, a real low life, convinced her to invest the money in his business ventures. They never worked out, mom lost all the money and Randy split as soon as the money was gone.” Yeah, that was a great memory.

  Sighing, I looked at UJ. He looked tired and his eyes were red from crying. The wrinkles around his eyes looked deeper than I had ever seen and he seemed pale, even for an Irish guy.

  “So you went to Ireland and decided, I want to have my own bar?” I asked him, trying to lighten up the conversation. I was tired and my head was pounding as I tried to process all the information he had given me. However, I wanted to know it all.

  “I met a woman in Ireland, she was feisty and beauti
ful and gave me a run for my money.” He chuckled. “She was married to a dull little man, and we had planned for her to leave him and be with me.” I watched his eyes gloss over and his expression harden.

  “She was pregnant, and she was going to leave the little twit. Until her family found out and poured on the Irish Catholic guilt. Long story short, she broke it off with me and decided to stay with him. I was heartbroken, but I refused to be shut out of my daughter’s life.

  She begged me to please let the man raise our child. Swore it was best. Angry, I returned to New York. My daughter was born and I am ashamed that I let my own foolish anger keep me from her. The little toad ended up raising my daughter, the first time I met my Cami, she was three years ago. She is lovely.” He pulled out his cell phone and scrolled. Once he found what he was looking for he showed me a picture of a girl about 13 or 14 years old. She had UJ’s sparkling blue eyes and gorgeous long brown hair. She was wearing what looked like a school uniform. White polo, blue skirt and black Mary Janes. She had UJ’s nose and with her pretty pink lips, she was going to be a knockout in a few years.

  “She’s beautiful. Wow, she’s my cousin.” I told him grinning. I had a cousin, it was strange but just knowing she was family made me want to know her, made me want to see her, but what could I offer her?

  UJ laughed. “Yes Syn, you have a cousin and she is remarkably smart and we text back and forth and I go to Ireland during the holidays when she’s off school. You’ll see her at Christmas.” It was the first time I had seen my uncle grin from ear to ear. Even in his older age, he was still handsome, it was a shame he was alone.

  “So why a bar? Why Vegas? Why make the effort with mom and me now?” Those were the questions I really needed to be answered. I couldn’t help but speculate what was in it for him. His sister was a druggie, and I was an ex-college student working for Kentucky Fried Chicken, worse than that, I had lousy taste in men.

  “I figured we would get to that question.” He sat back down on the sofa and looked at me, I couldn’t read his expression so I just sat and waited for him to speak.

  “I missed my Cami in Ireland, I missed having family around me. What’s more Irish than a bar? What better place to build a bar, ran by a true Irish man, then Las Vegas? Sure there are some Irish named pubs in the heart of the strip. But I think I can pull in enough tourists and locals to make a go of it. When I first had the renovation plans drawn up, I was building your apartment as a two bedroom so that your mother would have a place to live if she was willing to get clean.” He shook his head. “It was the first conversation I had with Aggie when I showed up here. She was still angry at me for telling my father she was using, unless I was prepared to give her money, I was of no use to her. That’s when I knew my big sister was really gone. I saw the clothes hang off her thin body. I saw those big hazel eyes, so much like my mother’s, dull and glazed over; as whatever hit she took, before I got there, kicked in.”

  I wish I could say the scenario surprised me. It didn’t, that was my norm and mom in that condition was as normal to me as tying my shoes every day.

  “She wasn’t going to stop UJ,” I told him affectionately using his nickname again. “She wasn’t going to stop for me, for you, or anyone, whoever she was before she was raped wasn’t there anymore.” I felt bad, I knew my mother had been through a lot but she had chosen not to deal with what happened. She hid away in drugs and chose that life over me, time and time again.

  “I know, that’s why I set up your bank account when I found out you were starting school. I wanted you to be able to have things you needed. I changed the plans to give you a huge master bedroom instead of a two bedroom, I didn’t want your mother to have a place to go. Honey listen, I know losing your scholarship and being treated badly by that prick is a lot to take in right now, But I have to admit I’m glad I have the opportunity to have you work with me and live near me. You’re my family Syn, I love you.”

  Almost crying, I threw my arms around my uncle. “I love you too UJ. Screw school, I didn’t fit in anyways, I couldn’t go back if I wanted too. You’re the first relative to give a damn about me, and I would be damn proud to help you run this bar.” I told him tightening my hug. It was the best feeling in the world when his shaking arms wrapped around me. I finally found where I belonged, I was never going to think of Reece Hudson again.

  Present

  “Yeah, baby just like that.” Came that annoying voice. Note to self, next time when the urge to get off strikes, just pull out the vibrator, don’t take the cute guy with the cute butt to your office and ride him. Vibrators don’t talk. Unfortunately, men do.

  “Quit talking, it’s just reminding me that you're here.” I chastised. I didn’t want to hear the guy’s voice. Hell, I couldn’t even remember his name. Joe? John? Geez, whatever. I just wanted to concentrate on sliding up and down his nice cock until I came.

  “Oh god baby, I’m almost there.” He droned on again.

  I ignored him and stepped up my pace, taking one hand I rubbed my clit while I bounced up and down on his cock. I could feel him getting close and if I didn’t hurry up, he was going to get to the finish line before I did. I was just about to cum when the door to the office started vibrating, someone was pounding on it.

  “Syn, dammit, I have a full bar out here and could use you.” I knew the voice, it was Uncle Jack. Damn, what a mood killer.

  “Just a sec.” It was all I needed as I quickened my up and down strokes and moved my fingers over my clit trying to get off.

  “Rachel’s getting manhandled out there and Gus is MIA," came his annoyed voice through the locked door.

  I halted instantly, FUUUUUCK. I saw red, no one manhandled Rachel. She was a sweet college kid, who had no business in Vegas and I made a point to watch out for her. I dismounted him like a professional gymnast. Pulling my tank top down I made for the door.

  “What the fuck? You can’t just leave I’m not finished.” He shouted grabbing my wrist when I would have walked by him. I laughed throwing his, way too soft to be anything other than an office jockey hand, off my body. Shoving my short denim skirt in place, I grabbed the lotion off my desk and tossed it to him,

  “Sorry umm, umm.” Crap, I really had to get better at names.

  “My name is Kevin.” He said annoyed and still panting, his dick was still hard and I almost laughed. Okay, apparently I was really, really, awful with the names of my one and dones. Oops, my bad.

  “Sorry, Kevin this will have to do,” I told him pointing to the lotion and walking out of my office.

  I ignored the fact that I hadn’t put my panties back on and didn’t take the time to lace up my combat boots. Rachel was in trouble and it was time to let off some sexual frustration.

  I dashed out of the rear of the bar and looked around. It was packed, I knew it would be since it was St. Patrick’s Day and UJ owned the only true Irish ran bar in all of Las Vegas.

  I searched the bar for Rachel. At first, I didn’t see her, on my second pass I spotted her sitting in the lap of some frat boy. She clearly didn’t want to be there. Her face was furious and her body was rigid as she leaned away from the guy who was keeping her there. Rachel was pissed and Rachel was never pissed. She never cursed, she was always annoyingly happy and optimistic. It was why I liked her, she wasn’t jaded and to her, the world was filled with opportunities.

  I saw Rachel was close to losing it, her emerald green eyes shimmered with angry tears. Her fists were clenched, and she looked like she wanted to take fuck face’s head off his shoulders. Passing the bar I snagged my bat and let it hang to my side as I approached the booth.

  There were four guys in all, all of them about the 20-stupid age, all drunk and somehow under the impression that my waitress was their personal blow-up doll. I knew that customers got randy, especially after a few drinks, but I had a hands-off policy in my bar. It was the first rule I had made when Uncle Jack or UJ as I called him, made me part owner, in exchange for me leaving school and run
ning the bar with him full time.

  Usually, Gus, my security guy handled this stuff but after a quick look around I found him to be nowhere. I would deal with his soon to be fired butt later, right now there were two ways to discharge tension, sex and kicking ass and since the first one was off the table… ass kicking it was!

  “Syn!” Rachel yelped from her forced perch on fuck face’s lap. Her green eyes pleaded for help. I knew Rachel was scared, she always called me Synclair. I loathed the name which was why everyone called me Syn instead. I locked eyes with Rachel, letting her know in one look that I had this under control. As I drew closer, I noticed the red welts forming on Rachel’s arms where fuck face was gripping her in place. Damn, there were things you do and do not do and harming a woman was at the top of my, fuck you up till you weep for your momma, list. Seeing red I picked up the bat and slammed it down in the middle of the table. The whole bar fell silent and the four fuck faces sat deathly still, eyes wide.

  “Well, now that I have your attention.” I started, never taking my glare off the guy who was holding Rachel. “Want to explain to me why you’re holding my waitress against her will on your lap?” My tone was relaxed, but I knew my death stare said it all.

  I observed the kid’s eyes flare with annoyance. Okay, so he was the rich, entitled college age tourist. The kind that figured he was better than me; thus, could treat everyone around him like peasants with no repercussions. I hated those types of guys. Sure, he may get girls with the sandy blonde hair, blue eyes, and $200 blue jeans, but it didn’t take much to see how shallow and egotistical he was.

  “Babe,” he began his mouth curling into what I guess was his charming smile. I didn’t let him finish, I flipped the bat, so I was holding it handle out, I threw a hasty glance at Rachel who nodded. In a move perfected over the time she had been here, Rachel elbowed the guy in the stomach. He grunted and let her go enough that she sprang up from the booth and moved behind me. I took the bat and thrust it forward into fuck face’s nose.

 

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