She finally looked up at me, but her eyes were filled to the brim with tears. She bit them back though, blinking rapidly and sitting up higher, drawing her knees to her chest.
“I told you it was because Mom—Aria—is starting to lose money. I mean, that was the main reason, and working all these hours is killing me.” She sighed, and it took me a second process who Aria was. She hadn’t used the name in years. Frankie had grown up calling her adopted mother, Mom, when her real name was Aria. Aria tried getting Frankie to stick with calling her by her real name, but she never did. After all, she was only four years old when she lost her real mother, who just so happened to be Aria’s best friend.
Aria took Frankie in when the accident with her mother happened, raised her, and it changed things for Frankie. In my opinion, I think Frankie lived in denial her entire life and never accepted that her real mom was gone, so she insisted on calling Aria that as a replacement. It was her comfort and to be completely honest, I didn’t blame her for it.
“She was getting so much money, but was wasting it all,” Frank went on. “I thought we were fine until she called me one day, asking to borrow a hundred bucks for the power bill. And it got worse from there. I finally called her on it, asking what was going on. She said the companies that had sponsored her before were looking for younger people—millennials. She was losing money and fans quickly. She’d even gotten a part-time job as a secretary for a travel agency, but what she made there wasn’t enough to cover all the bills.”
“Wow. I’m so sorry, Frank.”
“Meh, that’s just a part of it. The bigger issue is that she has cancer, and is no longer working at said job.”
“What?” I gasped. “Oh my gosh.”
“Yep. Pancreatic. Stage 2. She’s getting treatments, but lately she hasn’t been looking so good. She’s thinning out, losing hair. All she has is Clay and me.” When she said her last sentence, her face scrunched up, and her eyes filled with a familiar guilt.
“What is it?” I murmured.
She looked at me through the corner of her eye, then dropped her legs, raking her fingers through her hair. “Clay is thinking about dropping out of college and moving back in to take care of her. Can you believe that? He’s actually thinking about leaving a full scholarship behind and it pisses me off! He’s telling me all these crazy things, like how I need to stay in school because one of us has to make it.” Her eyes fell, her dark eyelashes touching her cheekbones. She was quiet for several seconds, running her fingers over her bangles. “Kandy, there’s something about Clay that I never told you….”
“Something like what?”
“Like…how we kissed before…”
Holy shit.
Holy. Shit!
I held my hands up, like I was pausing the entire conversation. “Wait—with Clay? Your brother Clay?”
“He’s only my brother by law, not blood,” she stated, like she’d practiced the statement a million times. “I’ve never felt a brotherly bond with him. Ever, and how could I? Technically, before I even moved in with Aria, we were friends before becoming family. At first I hated him, and then I warmed up to him, and then I hated him again for making me look so fucking stupid.” She rubbed the tip of her nose.
“But how did that happen? The kiss?”
“Ugh. I don’t know. It’s a lot. There have always been little signs here and there, but we never acted on them until we got older. Not only that, but the last thing I want to do is hurt Aria. The first time something happened was when I was seventeen. Clay was home for spring break and came into my room saying he wanted to watch a movie on Netflix, and since I was the one who had the account, he needed the password. Well I refused to give it to him, so he did that stupid thing he always did and tried to play-wrestle with me. It was all fun and games as kids when we used to get into fights, but we were older by then. Hormonal.” She shrugged. “Anyway, he picked me up and dropped me on the bed and then he was on top of me. He was between my legs, and he had my wrists pinned to the bed. Like I said, we wrestled all the time, but the way he looked at me, and how close his mouth was to mine, it was just…different. He climbed off all quickly and then I gave him the password for my account, just to get him to leave.”
“Wow,” I breathed. I don’t even know why I was so surprised. Frankie and Clay argued and fought often, and now that I thought about it, there was always something there that made them not seem so brotherly-sisterly. I mean, I grew up with Frank and always knew him as her brother by adoption, so I only saw Clay as her brother. I never had a sibling, so I suppose I couldn’t place it, but their bond was very unique. There was always more, and he was always very protective of her. Overly protective. “Were there other times?” I asked.
“Yeah. The other times were more intense,” she went on. “There was one night when Clay had a spur-of-the-moment party at the house and had invited the whole football team and some dumb cheerleaders over. I think you had practice that night, so I didn’t bother you. Anyway, I’d been drinking during the party and had to go up to my room to change. Well, Clay came stumbling in my room with Irene.”
“Ew, Irene?”
“Yes, Irene Hall. The girl who sucks every guy’s dick. I don’t even know why she was there. Anyway, he came into my room, knowing damn well I was in there. I was changing clothes because some douche had spilled his drink all over my shirt and pants. I asked Clay what the hell he was doing in my room, and he had the nerve to tell me to get out of my own room so he could do shit with her.”
“Oh my God, he didn’t!”
“Yes, he did! I flipped the fuck out! I told Irene to get lost, and I guess he was pissed that he’d lost his free pass on getting head, so he slammed the door closed and got in my face. He told me I was always cock-blocking him and he was sick of it.” She rolled her eyes. “I told him that he does the same damn thing whenever I have a guy around—even at school. We got into this heated debate and I shoved him away, but he came closer, and before I knew it, his mouth was on mine. He started…kissing me. And the kisses were fucking torture and bliss, K.J. I’d never felt anything like it. It was so fucking wrong but so damn hot. And God,” she groaned, throwing her hands in the air, “I hate that I’m even saying all of this because it’s so freakin’ horrible! I mean, I could taste the alcohol on his breath. I can still remember the taste. Modelo Negro. He always drank that beer. The next thing I know, he was picking me up and pushing me against the wall. He started kissing my neck. He was hard and grinding on me. He kept saying how frustrating I was, and I kept telling him how irritating he was. We were still arguing while kissing and humping like dummies, and it was so fucked up. So, so fucked up. I mean, we grew up together, K.J. He should feel like a brother to me, but I wanted him to fuck me so badly. He almost did, but we got interrupted.” She whipped her head over to look at me, as if she forgot I was sitting there. “Is that bad?” she whispered.
I couldn’t do much but look at her. “I, uh…I don’t know. Do you think it’s bad?”
“Yes, it’s bad, K! Clay is—he’s supposed to be like family! I’m not supposed to want him! And imagine how Aria would feel!”
“But…technically speaking, he’s not. Society makes you think it’s wrong because you’ve known him your whole life and because you got adopted into his family. I do understand how this could ruin things, though. Especially for Aria…but Clay is really, really hot…”
“I know.” She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I feel so stupid. Clay and I have known each other since we were babies…and before I realized I was going to be his adopted sister, I had a stupid crush on him. All these years, I’ve tried to get rid of that feeling and face reality, but it doesn’t help that I actually know he’s not family, you know? I mean Aria always tells us, we’re family, to take care of one another, so she obviously wants us to stick to that family bond.”
“Well, shit, Frankie! Why didn’t you tell me this when it first happened? I’m your best friend!”
/> “This isn’t like your situation with Cane, okay? Clay is supposed to be my brother. Everyone knows him as my brother, even you. I didn’t want you judging me or thinking I was some slut or—”
“You are not a slut,” I stated. God, I hated that word now. “You are my friend, and I love you. You didn’t have to keep that bottled up for so long.”
“He also didn’t want me to say anything to anyone. Not even you.”
“And you, Frankie Martin, listened?” I quirked a brow, smirking.
“Yes, because he was right!” she laughed. “No one can know, okay? I wasn’t even supposed to tell you, so if you come around and he’s there, pretend things are still the same. Pretend he’s just Clay, my annoying older brother.”
I nodded. “Got it.”
She exhaled hard. “Feels good to have that off my chest now.”
“I bet,” I giggled. “I’m glad you told me, Frank.” I picked the gummy worms up again, this time with a smile. “And you know what? I needed this. You.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here.” She rested her head on my shoulder. “You’re a strong girl. One of the strongest, sincerest bitches I know, and if you really love Cane, don’t let your fears stop you. Trust me, your mind will feed on that fear, and it will be your biggest setback. Don’t let that fear control you.”
“It’s hard not to be afraid, Frank. I mean, Cane is different. There’s so much that sets us apart.”
“Well, how about you find the reasons that make you stick together?”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
She sighed, picking up her head. “You know, there’s this thing I learned in my psychology class. There was a girl who had gotten into a bad argument with her boyfriend, and she started randomly crying in class. My professor took it as a learning opportunity. On the board, he made two topics. On one side was ‘Bad Things.’ On the other side was ‘Good Things.’ He told the poor girl to come up and write down all the good things and the bad things, and then told her that if the bad outweighs the good, leave it alone. If the good outweighs the bad, see what you can do to heal the situation. So…I’m telling you now to make a list.”
I let her words sink in, and after I told her I would, she changed the subject to work and college. After she heard from Mom, she came here just to see me, and I couldn’t thank her enough for skipping classes and possibly missing more important life lessons from her psychology professor, all for me. She truly was my best friend in the world.
Around 11:00 p.m., Frankie gave me a big squeeze goodbye, and when she was gone, I sat on the bed, staring at my phone. I looked toward my laptop, the one Cane had given me, and then at the notebook that was sitting there. I had two options that night. I could forget about making that list and forget about Cane altogether, or I could make the list, and try to find some light in our darkness.
I chose the latter.
I hopped off the bed and sat in my computer chair. I created the “Bad Things” side and the “Good Things.” It was easy for me to write the bad. I had so much negativity swirling inside me—so much hate for what had happened—but realized none of it was directed at him. All of my hate was for Kelly, but Kelly had never determined our relationship. Why would I let what she’d done to me determine our status now?
I wrote until my hand began to cramp and my eyes got tired. I checked the clock, and it was 3:00 a.m. I read over my list several times, and for the first time in a while, my heart blossomed.
Bad Things:
Can be a sarcastic asshole
Too much baggage
Crazy ex who wants to kill me
Too many family secrets
Gets jealous way too easily
Work-a-holic
Works for a cartel leader
Hasn’t always been a good person
Good Things:
Makes me smile
Good at giving gifts
Great sex
Big heart
Treats me like I am special
Makes me so, so happy
Doesn’t want kids (good now that I can’t have any)
Always ready to fight for me
Tattoos
His hugs are amazing
He loves me
I sat back in my chair, reading over the good and bad, surprised that the good outweighed it. Before, the bad was so strong—so intense that it was all I could focus on. I had overlooked all of the good. Why? Because I was afraid of what would come next. I was so focused on the bad that the good came close to meaning nothing…but there it was, right in front of me. His goodness shined bright, and I’m sure I’d missed a lot more, but it was there. Right in my face, the letters seared in my brain.
Maybe there was something left to fight for…but even so, a part of me was still too afraid to go after it.
Chapter Eight
CANE
Two Weeks Later
“Are you really leaving today?” Lora stood between the frames of my bedroom door, watching me collect some paperwork from the desk.
I looked around, holding my hands out. “Doesn’t it look like it?” I gestured to the empty room. Everything was gone except my desk, which I had used last night to finish up some work. I’d hired movers several days ago to take my belongings to the new home I bought in Charlotte, North Carolina. The new home was slightly bigger than the one in Atlanta, and I don’t know what had possessed me to buy it. It just felt…right.
“You’re leaving so much behind, and really fast, Q.” She came into the room, folding her arms. “There’s too much up in the air. You don’t even know what’s going to happen to Kelly. They’ll probably call your lawyer, want you to testify.”
“They don’t need my testimony anymore. Apparently her lawyer has worked out some kind of plea deal. My lawyer is there to speak on my behalf, in case they need anything from me, which I highly doubt they will.”
“And Jefe?” she demanded, staring me down.
I looked down, stacking the papers. “He’ll know where to find me.”
“And Kandy?” Her voice was firmer this time.
I was about to staple the papers, but her name was more than enough to stop me. I stared down, avoiding my sister’s eyes. “I can’t do anything about her, Lora. She already told me she needed space at the hospital, and I haven’t heard from her in weeks. I’ve tried calling, but get her voicemail constantly, and she’s clearly been ignoring my texts. I don’t want to show up and make matters worse for her or her family.” I finally looked up. “If she wants to move on, who am I to stop her?”
“You’re Quinton fucking Cane, that’s who!” she yelled, dropping her arms. “When have you ever backed away from something you wanted?”
I scoffed and shook my head, stapling the papers together. My eyes roamed to the letter to the right. On it was Kandy’s name, written in my ledger. I’d written it last night, right here at this desk, while sipping on too much scotch. I couldn’t sleep worth a damn, and she was constantly on my mind. The rapid move was making me feel all sorts of things, but most importantly, knowing that I would no longer be a short ride away bothered me. I was going to be in a completely different city, but I couldn’t leave without letting her know how I felt first. After reading over it this morning, though, I felt like a fool for writing it. She didn’t want me…but I still wanted her. So fucking much.
I set the stapled packet down and picked up the letter with a sigh. I suppose at this point I didn’t have much else to lose.
Walking around the desk, I met up to Lora, focusing on Kandy’s name on the envelope in bold blue ink. “I need you to take this to her before you drive down. Let her know I’m leaving tonight.”
She frowned down at it. “You want me to take it today?”
I met her eyes. “If possible.”
She took it away from me. “What does it say?”
“Don’t worry about that. Just go by her house, ask for her, even if her parents are there. It’s better if she sees you.”
&n
bsp; She frowned. “Why me? Why not just do it yourself?”
“You know damn well if they see my face they won’t open that door.”
She exhaled, and her pale hair shifted with the blow. It was no longer a deep, pastel blue. It’d turned into a faded color with more blonde showing than anything. “Fine. Any other requests?”
“Yeah, I need you to stick around for as long as you can tomorrow, and if Kandy calls you by ten the next morning, I want you to answer, then I want you to pick her up and bring her to Charlotte with you.”
“What?” she gasped. “Why would I do that? What makes you think she’ll even want to go there?”
“If she calls, it means she does.” I scratched the top of my head. “I’m letting her know that I haven’t given up—that there are choices and that I’m here. If she calls you, it means there’s still a fighting chance for us.”
“Ahh.” She grinned, pressing the letter to her heart. “A second-chance love letter. Actually, it’s more like a third-chance thing. Okay, fine, whatever! I’ll take it over, but if I do, you have to let me choose the apartment I want later. I’m tired of you getting to decide where I get to stay.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”
She cheered. “Good. Text me her address!” She turned on her heels and trotted toward the door. Before she left, she said, “And for the record, I think she’ll want to come.”
I watched her leave then huffed a laugh.
For once in my fucking life, I hoped my sister was right.
Chapter Nine
KANDY
The last thing I expected was the knock on the front door to be someone coming for me. It was shortly after my check up with Dr. Bhandari, who’d confirmed that my wound had healed nicely. He told me to allow three more weeks for my body to adjust before performing any sexual activity or taking birth control…but I was sure sex wasn’t going to be a problem anytime soon.
When I walked downstairs and saw the pale blonde hair and circular sunglasses with yellow lenses covering her eyes, I couldn’t contain my smile.
The Cane Series: Complete 4-Book Box Set Page 58