by Heather Long
“Is it true?” she demanded.
So we were playing the vague game. I closed the door to the car and nodded toward the apartment. “Is what true? And it’s freezing out here, do you want to come over?”
“No,” she snapped and stomped forward, more angry tears gathering in her eyes even, as she sniffled. “I want to know if it’s true.”
“Okay,” I said, blowing out a breath. “You’re going to have to be more—”
“Are you fucking cheating on my brother?”
The accusation hit me like a brick. All the air in my lungs squeezed out. “Trina…”
“Are you?” Her voice pitched higher. “Noah told Jenny and Mandy that you’re a whore. Everyone at the high school knows it… How could you do that to him?”
“I’m not—”
She swung before I could even finish the sentence and I barely got my arm up in time, but too many years of taking Maddy’s slaps made me wary of another one. Trina flailed with her other hand, and I dropped my keys to catch her arm.
“Trina…stop it.”
Then she shoved me back to the car, and while Trina and I were closer in height, she had a lot of anger behind her.
“You’re as bad as your mother!” she screamed this time, and the tears fell in earnest. “She screwed my dad, and now you’re screwing up my brother.”
Shock slapped me harder than she could have, and my stomach cramped. “Sis,” I tried again, because tears ripped through her words like a record screech.
“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” The flailing turned to half slaps against my arms as I fought to keep her from actually landing any real hits.
“Stop it,” I ordered, and this time, I shoved her backward. I didn’t want to hurt her, but she was too damn angry and not listening. “I mean it, Trina.”
She bounced forward and shoved me into the side mirror on the car.
“I hate you,” Trina cried. “I hate you. I hate you, and I hate your mother. You’re nothing but a…”
“Trina!” I dodged another flail, and this time, I grabbed both of her forearms and shoved her against the car. “Stop. It.”
I had to raise my voice over hers, and even then, all it did was leave her shaking and crying.
“C’mon, Sis, stop. Listen to me…please?”
“Why?” She choked and coughed as snot ran from her nose and tears soaked her face. “Why would you do that to him?”
“I’m not,” I told her.
“Yes you are. There are pictures of you kissing Jake and Archie. I didn’t believe them. I defended you, and they showed me pictures.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t with Jake or Archie or even Ian.”
The admission shut her up.
She gawked at me.
“Then you’re telling me you’re a slut?” For someone who had been so furious just seconds earlier, disbelief populated her tone.
I swallowed. “No,” I said, and chose my next words carefully, but I also leaned my weight into her to keep her pinned, because I really didn’t want to get hit in the face. This was already a nightmare. “I’m telling you I’m not cheating on Coop. I love Coop, I would never hurt him that way.”
Trina stared at me, fat tears rolling down her reddened face. “How can you make out with other guys and it not be cheating?”
“Because I know about it,” Coop said from somewhere behind me. Trina jerked to look past, and I let go of her, even as I released a breath and backed up. “Frankie’s not Dad, Sis. She didn’t lie or cheat or stab anyone in the back. She didn’t walk away from her family. She’s not cheating on me.”
There was an inflexible note in his usually patient voice, one that seemed to strike a chord with Trina, and she flinched. “But there are…”
“Trina,” I said before she could bring up the pictures. When Coop closed his hand over mine, I threaded my fingers with his. The class ring I’d worn all day seemed heavier somehow, like the anchor I hadn’t realized I needed until just now. “I promise. I know what you were told, and I know what you’re thinking. You’ve made that clear. Yes, I’m dating all four of them, and they all know.”
“We’re doing more than dating,” Coop said, tugging me closer. “We’re together. All of us and Frankie.”
The earlier disbelief dissolved into incredulity as she stared at her brother. “Wait…you’re gay?” Before either of us could say anything, she shook her head. “No, you’d have to be bi.” She scrubbed a hand over her face, then glanced back and forth between us. “I don’t understand. I thought… He said Frankie was a whore.”
“Who said?” Coop asked in a deceptively mild tone, and I shook my head.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I disagree,” he countered. “It matters very much, because if it’s who I think it is…”
Fuck.
There was going to be blood.
“That’s not important right now,” I said, elbowing Coop and then holding out my free hand to Trina. “Come inside? Please? It’s freezing out here, and we can talk.”
Her face had gone from splotchy red with tears to beet red, and she darted her gaze away from me. “How can you be nice to me?”
“’Cause she’s Frankie, Sis. Now come on before I focus too hard on the fact that you called my girlfriend a slut and go burn all those Barbies you have hidden in the back of your closet.”
Outrage blossomed on Trina’s face. “Don’t. You. Dare.” But she moved, and when I grasped her hand in my free one, she clung to me.
Well, whatever worked.
The conversation with Trina left me drained. Coop took her back to his apartment after he made sure their mother was there. I offered to go with him, but he told me he would handle it. Ian had kept his distance while Trina was in the apartment, but there was no way he hadn’t gleaned a good chunk of the story.
Trina had been yelling again. She and Coop both looked like hell when they left. Well, more Trina looked miserable and Coop grim. He’d given me a very thorough kiss before he took his sister home.
Ian had wanted to wait for Archie to get back, but he also intended to go have dinner and talk to his parents. Jake had warned us his mother had figured it out and that she suggested we tell everyone.
After the incident with Trina? Yeah. I got it.
“I could go with you,” I offered.
But Ian had shaken his head. “Angel, let me deal with any initial fallout. They love you. But they need to understand that I love you and that this isn’t a negotiation.”
Guilt eating away and my focus shot, I pulled the kitchen apart to clean it, emptying the various dead takeout boxes from the fridge and making a shopping list.
At least I had a coupon app to go with the coupons in the sale paper. Another text to Rachel went unanswered, and I called her to leave a message as I grabbed my keys.
“Hey, if I don’t see and hear that you’re all right tomorrow before school, I’m going to camp out on your porch. Call me. I’m worried.” I hesitated a beat, then added, “And feeling neglected. If she’s that hot, I want pictures.”
Jacket on and keys in hand, I ran into Archie as I let myself out. He grinned. “Hey, babe, where are you running off to?”
Despite the grin, he gave me a critical once over. I didn’t even ask. I’d bet money Ian had texted Jake and Archie so they knew what was going on. “Grocery shopping,” I told him. I also had the trash bag to toss, so he snagged that and then hooked his arm through mine.
“I’ll drive, if you want,” he offered, and I chuckled.
“I need more groceries than we can load in the Ferrari. Besides, you’re not a fan of grocery shopping.”
“Maybe not,” he said easily. “But I’m a huge fan of you.”
I didn’t groan as he left me at my car with a quick kiss and jogged the trash over to the dumpster. Archie in a grocery store was a disaster. He hated grocery budgets.
He strolled back over to the car and grinned at me. “You don’t have to look like that, babe
. I know how to behave.”
“Uh huh.”
Thirty minutes later, we were having an argument on the cereal aisle.
“We do not need both of those,” I told him. “Not to mention, I have a coupon and a buy two get one free for this one.”
Archie eyed the box I had versus the name brands he had. “Hard disagree. That crap tastes like cardboard, even with the milk. And I know for a fact that Jake prefers this brand and so do I.”
“But they’re smaller boxes…”
“So we get more.”
And I tilted my head back to stare at the ceiling as he added more to the cart. “Archie, they cost more.”
“They taste better, of course they cost more.”
“How are you a genius at so many things and so very bad at this?” I grabbed the boxes I’d intended to buy and put them back.
Even with the strain of the brand names, and the extra boxes, the budget would be all right, I’d just scale back on a couple of other things. The guys were all throwing money into the grocery shopping fund.
“Babe, I’m not bad at shopping.”
“We have a grocery budget…”
“It’s a guideline,” he told me as he took charge of the basket and started walking.
“No, it’s a budget. It keeps us from spending a small fortune on groceries. If you spend too much one week, you don’t have enough for the following. It’s basic economics.”
Pivoting, he gave me a smile. “You’re going to hit me for this, and I want you to know I say it with absolute love and adoration…”
Arms folded, I raised both eyebrows.
“I respect your budget, and I believe every word you say.”
“But?” I dangled that word out there, because there had to be a but on that sentence.
“But,” he said with a grin and spread his arms, “I’m a fan of enjoying the things we can, and one of the things we can enjoy is whatever the hell we want to eat. You have your grocery budget, and I will respect it. And I have mine that will fill in all the gaps, so you never have to worry about coming up short next week.”
It was almost like he was patronizing me, and at the same time… “You just paying for everything makes it hard to keep us all equals.”
“Again,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and his eyes soft. “Hard disagree.”
“Oh, this should be good,” I murmured and started pushing the cart myself, but he caught it to hold it still, then began to load everyone’s favorite Pop-Tarts—a ridiculous amount.
Now he was just making a point.
“I’m glad you like my reasoning before I’ve even said it.”
“Yeah, we’re not all the way there yet, so get on with it, Standish.”
His grin grew, if that were at all possible. “Finances don’t make people equal. Never have. Never will. All money does is pay for comfort. It doesn’t keep you warm at night or hold your hand when you need it. It doesn’t push you to be a better person or challenge your patience.”
He snagged the cart and tugged it forward, and I moved with it until we were face to face again.
“It definitely doesn’t teach you how to do your own laundry or make you realize just what you’ve been missing. My equals? They fill in the other parts of me. They balance me out. That, Miss Curtis, is spelled F-R-A-N-K-I-E.”
“Wow.”
“Good, right?”
I laughed. “You kind of ruin it when you pat yourself on the back.”
“No,” he murmured, dipping his head to kiss me. “I don’t.”
No, he really didn’t.
Still… “This doesn’t mean the budget is off. “
“I’d never presume,” he murmured. “So should we skip the ice cream, since we’re spending so much on this?”
“Now you really want me to hurt you.”
“I’m just trying to keep us on budget.”
Yep.
I admit it.
I hit him.
He still laughed and pinched my ass in retaliation.
Ugh. The budget died long before we reached the register, but he killed me when he picked out the chocolate ice cream cake and it was really hard to argue with it.
Jake was there when we got home and helped us offload everything. I carried a pint of my ice cream off to eat in the living room while the engineers debated on how to fit everything in the fridge. It was damn amusing.
My phone buzzed.
Rachel: I’m alive. No need to threaten mayhem or bodily harm. The boys not fulfilling you? You read the new books yet? If not, then go do that. Should cure your boredom. Give you all kinds of ideas for them. Talk to you tomorrow.
My mouth dropped open. But before I could fire off a response, another image filled the screen.
Oh, she was adorable. Rachel held a baby cuddled up to her chest and the message said, Meet my niece. She made an unexpected appearance, and I forgot my phone. My bad. You know you’re my favorite bitch. Xoxo
My squeal pulled Jake and Archie’s attention.
The fact that they blanched at the picture cracked me up. Well to be fair, Archie blanched, Jake just looked amused.
“Huh, there’s another Rachel running around in the world,” he said. “That’s…either really really cool or kind of terrifying.”
Archie snorted. “I’m going with terrifying. Mostly because Frankie looks way too excited.”
“She gets to be an aunt and play with a baby,” I said and rolled my eyes. “Of course, I’m excited. I kind of want to do that someday.”
There was a distinct pause, and I caught them both staring at me.
“Some. Day.” I enunciated the words clearly. “As in, sometime in the future, distant. Not any time in the next five years.”
“So, five-year plan?” Jake asked.
“Five-year plan,” Archie agreed, and I groaned. Archie couldn’t live on a grocery budget, but a five-year plan?
Still…
That baby was cute.
I sent Rachel back heart eyes emojis. That definitely helped lift the mood of the day.
Then I remembered I still had homework.
Fuck.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I’d Never Forget About You
Coop
I left for school before everyone else on Monday. Archie would run interference with Frankie, but I wanted to catch that smoky little fuckweed before school started. I knew just where he and his smelly little shits would be hanging out off-campus.
A win-win because they couldn’t smoke on school grounds, so their little dumpster playground was also out of bounds for school rules. Jake slid into the car next to me before I even got it started, and I side-eyed him. “To be perfectly clear, I can handle the little asshole.”
“Not a doubt in my mind,” he said as he set his backpack on the floor and pulled his seatbelt on. “I’m just tagging along for the ride.”
I blew out a breath. It had taken me most of the evening and then some to settle Trina and Mom. The whole damn thing had been one ugly conversation after another. One where we’d ended up finally having to call Dad in to join us for, and damn, Mom put him on the spot.
Trina had figured out the Maddy affair, and I had no idea how. But she had blamed Mom for some backwards ass reason. Like it was Mom’s fault Dad had to go and have an affair with Maddy. Some of the psychology I got—Trina wanted her family back. Her sense of security and her self-confidence had gotten all tied up in the divorce. She was also lashing out at me because I was going to leave “too.”
It had been a really long night. Trina was staying home with Mom today, and they discussed real therapy, not just for Trina but maybe for the whole family. All the therapy I needed was beating up the little fuck who not only took pictures of Frankie with all of us, but had gone out of his way to use them to hurt my sister.
I still hadn’t ruled out burning a couple of her prized Barbie dolls. Nothing that had gone down justified her physically assaulting Frankie.
If I got nothing else through my sister last night, that had better have sunk in. Funnily enough, Dad passed off the bruises on his face as something related to a racquetball accident with his friends. I let it go because while the initial urge to rearrange his face had passed, I couldn’t say it was gone all the way.
“Ease up on the steering wheel grip,” Jake drawled. “You want your hands loose for this. Too much tension in your shoulders and arms, you run the risk of an injury.”
“Har har.”
“Not kidding,” he said. “I brought the first aid kit for your hands and tape to protect your knuckles. I also grabbed a clean shirt and fresh jeans from the stash at Frankie’s, in case you get too much blood on you.”
The fact that he said it with a straight face penetrated the hot bubble of tension boiling the air around me. I slanted a look at him. “You’re taking this very calmly.”
“I got to pound some of my feelings out into Reed’s face,” he mused. “I’m fine with you handling this one. You look like you could use it. You need me to tag in, just say the word. Otherwise, I’m your alibi.”
Ten minutes later, I pulled into the row of industrial buildings and storefronts that lined the far side of the grocery store parking lot. It was less than a five-minute walk from the school, but with more than enough distance to not be in danger of violating the rules.
Jake was a half-step behind me.
“Coop,” he warned. “Knuckles.”
“I’m good. I’m calm.”
I was very calm. I also had gloves in my pocket. When I pulled them out and began tugging them on as I walked, Jake let out a soft laugh. We crossed between the buildings and followed the L around to where Noah “dead man” Auburn and his friends were laughing away in their cloud of blue smoke.
“Go the fuck away,” Jake said when the three guys with Noah looked up at us. At least the guy my sister had wanted to date had the brains to blanch at our arrival. I sailed right through the smoky cloud and caught the cigarette dangling from his mouth and flicked it.
“Hey!” Noah complained, but my hand locked on his jaw as I kept walking him back away from the smoke and any potential help from his friends shut him up. Jake would get rid of the friends.