I grabbed a couple wrenches and started changing the oil on my bike. I wasn’t sure what had gotten me so worked up. Everyone in Wellfleet knew that Xander Keen was unattainable—not that it stopped the girls from trying. I might fuck with them for kicks, but they could never fuck with me. I was an impenetrable fortress. But as soon as these wackos showed, everything inside me got all fucked up and crazy. My stomach, my head, my nerves, my adrenaline. And yeah, my dick.
On a scale of fugly to fuckable, Gwen did not register. Not because she wasn’t hot—she was—but because I couldn't be thinking that shit about the daughter of Dad’s girlfriend…or whatever the hell she was. Not that Dad was going to marry her. He hadn’t spent his life building an empire from his dream with Mom, then fighting tooth and nail to keep it, only to throw it all away for two homeless nut-bags off the street.
They wouldn’t be the first people who had tried to discredit the men in this family and take us down with them. But no one had succeeded yet, and these psychos weren’t going to be the first. It pissed me off that I’d even allowed them into the house. For all I knew, they were in there taking pictures of the shit they meant to steal when they pulled their con. It didn’t help that the girl had been…whatever. It was more than how she looked. It was how she felt. Her presence had unsettled me, gotten me all turned around.
My wrench slipped, and my knuckle slammed against a bolt, the skin peeling back in a flap. Blood started dripping like gasoline onto the garage floor. I swore and wrapped it in a rag. I wanted to kick the shit out of something, but I wasn’t about to kick my bike or anything that might hit it. And I wasn’t stupid enough to kick the Bugatti.
Instead, I stalked out of the garage and glared up at the house. Rosa had taken them to a guest room on the third floor, but I couldn’t see anything through the window. The curtains hung still, and they hadn’t turned on the light inside. And yet I stood there, staring up for a good minute. I knew it was just the surprise, but it still sucked to feel like that girl had gotten me by the balls for even a second.
Disgusted, I turned away and circled the house to the car they’d driven up in. There was no way these crazies were going to take us down. No one fucked with the Keen family. Not at school, not anywhere else in life. I made damn sure of that, appointing myself guardian of our name at school, even if it got me suspended every now and then. Dad’s lawyers took care of the rest of the world.
Where were they now, when he needed someone to knock some sense into him? It was one thing to have gold digging bitches trying to scheme their way into our lives and another thing entirely to invite them in.
I didn’t care if they caught me going through their shitty little car, so I yanked open the door. The handle almost came off in my hand. I didn’t give a fuck. I’d find some incriminating evidence and pass it on to Dad. If he wouldn’t listen, which he probably wouldn’t, I wasn’t above going to his lawyers or even the board of his company. He wasn’t going to ruin our lives because of some whack-job he found on the internet.
I rooted around in the glove box, but there wasn’t much there. A pink slip, a manual, a receipt for an oil change. Hell, she didn’t even have insurance cards. I slammed the box and searched under the seats, where I found a bunch of cheap paperback romances and dirty socks. By the time I’d finished with the car, my stomach was sour and hollow. It didn’t seem right to call them homeless as an insult anymore. Not when I was pretty sure they actually were homeless.
I took out two battered duffle bags from the trunk and searched around the spare tire. I pulled up the mats in the front seat, and felt for lumps in the carpet in the back, where the mats were missing. Nothing too incriminating. They didn’t seem to be carrying any evidence, but that didn’t prove much. They could still be scammers. I knew one thing for sure. They were poor as fuck, and they were after our money and our family name. And I wasn’t about to let them get it.
Chapter Five
Gwen
Mom had driven all night, and she passed out cold as soon as she lay down on the bed. I had to stay alert in case anyone came upstairs. The nervousness of a trespasser clung to me, and I felt guilty just for existing in this luxurious space where we clearly did not belong.
After a while, I began to relax despite myself. Mom would have a fit soon enough, and we’d run then. We hadn’t even unloaded our bags, so the car was packed and ready. This was just a hiccup. When she snapped out of it, we’d laugh with disbelief that we’d gone into a mansion and taken a nap. I was just freaking out because she’d never had an episode quite like this before.
While I waited, I couldn’t resist taking a peek at the small bookcase that was in the bedroom. It was mostly crime thrillers and courtroom dramas, but I took a stab at one, lying down gingerly on the soft, clean bed. My dirty hair would probably stain their high-dollar sheets, but I wasn’t about to undress in this place. I didn’t want to be caught in a vulnerable moment when someone came and told us to get the hell out of their palace.
I tried to read, but my eyes kept glazing over, and I had to start over at the top of the page again and again. But eventually, I must have dozed off. I woke to the faint sound of voices downstairs. I bolted upright, listening hard. Outside the window, the sky had grown a murky, gunmetal grey. I’d slept until evening, and my mother was nowhere to be found. Heart racing, I slipped off the bed and ran to the door. When I flung it open, I almost tripped over my duffle, which someone had carried up and set in the hallway outside. I hauled it through and left it in the middle of the bedroom floor. Then I slipped back out and tiptoed down the hall, quietly this time.
When I reached the second floor landing, I could hear my mother below, her voice low and serious. My legs turned to mush, and I had to steady myself against the wall. At least she hadn’t ditched me. No matter how many times she promised, it was a constant fear. I had nothing without her.
A man’s voice answered my mother’s, but they were both too quiet for me to make out their words. Gripping the railing, I took a step down the stairs, then another, careful to keep my worn sneakers from slipping on the polished wood. I leaned forward, craning my neck and listening with everything I had.
“—been years—didn’t think I’d ever—almost time—”
Mom was just talking about how long she’d been on her own with me. Suddenly, I felt guilty for spying. I should be happy for her and stop freaking out about being in a strange house with a dude I’d never met and his incredibly rude son. Mom would never lead me into danger, and she’d promised never to leave. Despite my irrational fears, I knew that deep into my bones, as surely as I knew I’d never leave her. She’d spent her whole life keeping me from anything even remotely, hypothetically dangerous. Whatever was going on, there wasn’t anything sinister about it.
I had to trust her. If I didn’t, I’d go completely mad. She was the only person in the entire world who knew me, the only person I knew. She anchored me. Without her, I’d fly right off the spinning world and into outer space, where her mind resided half the time.
Hating myself for doubting her, I stepped up a step, creeping backwards until I reached the top floor. When I took the final step, a chill exploded along my arms and up my back. I froze as a soft, warm breath stirred the fine hairs on the back of my neck.
“Hey there,” said a low, masculine voice behind me.
After nearly jumping out of my skin, I turned slowly, trying to come up with an excuse for when Xander raked me over the coals for eavesdropping. But the guy standing behind me wasn’t Xander.
A stranger towered over me, so close we were practically hugging. Instead of stepping back, he stared down at me from behind his round spectacles. I stared back in an exaggerated way, hoping he’d notice how rude it was, but apparently his father hadn’t taught him any more manners than he’d taught his other son.
After a second my resentment melted, and I found myself studying him as closely as he was studying me. There was something about him…had we met? Or was it just a slig
ht resemblance to the brother I’d already met? This guy had a sculpted, handsome face with well-defined cheekbones, chin, and nose. His black hair was cut just long enough on top to hold a curl. Behind his glasses, his eyes were an intense, warm brown, which kept his sharp, angular features from looking severe. He stood with a slight slouch to his shoulders, as if he weren’t quite comfortable being six feet tall.
For reasons I didn’t completely understand, I wanted to pull him closer, to put my arms around him and comfort him. I tugged my sleeves over my hands and balled them into fists. What was wrong with me? Aside from my mother, I never touched people—and I was used to that. Why did I suddenly have the urge to start petting everyone?
A voice called up the stairs that dinner was ready, and we both jerked back, startled. How long had we been standing there, silently drinking each other in? I suddenly felt not just awkward but disconnected somehow, as if I’d zoned out on an especially vivid daydream. The guy standing over me looked just as bewildered as I felt.
“So…uh, dinner’s ready,” he said, gesturing for me to go at the same moment I gestured for him. After another awkward pause, I turned and escaped down the stairs.
Rosa, the woman who had greeted us so warmly, ushered us into a dining room with a long table topped with a white linen tablecloth. Above it hung a crystal chandelier that probably cost more than Mom had made in her entire life. She, Xander, and Neil were already there, scooting in at the table when we walked in. Neil immediately jumped up and strode down the length of the table to greet me with a firm handshake. One look at him, and I knew where the good looks of the two sons came from.
He was tall like them, with a modest tan and black hair shot through with strands of silver. He wore tailored pinstripe pants and a lavender dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off muscular forearms and an expensive watch.
Every inch of him stank of money.
I was suddenly aware that I literally stank of something much less pleasant than money. The vague scent of dirty hair that I usually didn’t notice was amplified by my nearness to this suave, clean-shaven man with his faint traces of cologne and expensive taste. I swear, I could smell it on him.
“You must be Gwen,” he said, holding onto my hand. “I’m Neil.”
“I know.”
He kept holding onto my hand, studying me, until I pulled away. What was with all these weirdos and their staring? Why had my mother brought me into a house full of people who did the one thing I hated more than anything—paid attention to me. We spent our lives trying not to draw attention. The only exception was when Mom had an episode and stopped caring. But when my eyes moved to her, she licked her lips and smiled. No screaming, no dragging me out to the car or even muttering about ravens.
“I see you’ve met Eliot,” he said. “And I trust Xander greeted you warmly when you arrived.”
I glanced over at Xander and I caught something in his eye. Maybe a challenge? “We couldn’t have asked for a more hospitable welcome,” I said, turning back to Neil.
“Glad to hear it,” he said. “I’m sorry my daughter isn’t here to join us for dinner. Peyton’s about your age, your mother tells me. She’s at cheer practice, but she should be home in time for dessert. You’ll like her.”
“If she’s anything like your sons, how could I not?” I asked. “Your family is so friendly and normal.”
Mom shot me a startled look. Ah. So she hadn’t told him everything. Maybe he thought we were friendly and normal.
“I’m afraid Gwen hasn’t had a chance to make many friends,” Mom said, shooting Neil an anxious smile. “With how often we moved.”
“Well, she’ll have lots of friends here,” Neil said cheerfully, taking his seat again.
“Sorry about your wife,” I blurted.
Everyone in the room stared at me. My toes curled inside my shoes.
“Smooth,” Xander muttered with a smirk.
I swallowed hard. “You know, because she died.”
“No need to apologize,” Neil said, but I noticed he’d gone a little stiff. He turned to Eliot. “Where’s Finn?”
Eliot shrugged and pulled a phone from his pocket and started texting.
“Sometimes, I think they really are telepathic, the way they’re connected,” Neil said, busying himself with shaking out his cloth napkin and laying it across his lap. “They say that about twins.”
“Wow,” I said, scooting in next to Mom. “Big family.”
“Let’s eat,” Neil said, clapping his hands together. As if on cue, Rosa came in carrying a huge serving pan. My stomach growled loudly, but I put down my fork when I saw that no one else had started eating.
“Lobster with truffle butter,” Rosa whispered, sliding a piece of white meat with pink skin onto my plate. I gave her a grateful smile, relieved to have an ally here even as the surreal moment made my head swim. Two days ago I would have been ecstatic if my mother had gotten a job like Rosa’s. Now, I was being served herbed fingerling potatoes by an actual maid.
To my surprise, after serving us, Rosa sat down with the rest of the family.
When everyone started eating, I picked up my fork and went right for the lobster. Of course I’d never had lobster before, but I’d read about it in lots of books. Guys were always feeding it to their dates when they wanted to impress them with their money. The thought gave me pause, and I looked up to see if Neil was checking my mother’s reaction, ready to boast about the dinner he’d served us. But Mom was engrossed in the food, and Neil wasn’t paying her much attention. In fact, he was looking at me.
I quickly pushed the bite of lobster into my mouth. It was sweet and tender and buttery, and my stomach begged for more. Before I could take another bite, though, something zinged up my back like a needle of electricity. My fork slipped from my fingers and clattered to the table. The hair stood up all along my arms, almost crackling with stiffness.
Xander muttered something, and he and Eliot exchanged a look. Neil’s eyes followed our every move like a hawk’s. He wasn’t just watching me. He was watching his kids, too. When his eyes moved to the door, I turned to see another guy shuffling in. Finn, I supposed.
For a second, he looked just like…I couldn’t think of the person he looked like, but he felt so familiar, as if I’d seen him before. I wracked my brain, trying to remember if we’d ever been here when I was younger, before Dad died. Or if I’d met him somewhere else. But I’d been so many places and seen so many faces, it was impossible to know where I’d run across him before. I was sure I had, though. The sense of familiarity was undeniable and unsettling.
“Sorry,” he said, his eyes circling the table and landing on me. Like his brothers, he was cute, but he lacked the tall, dark, and handsome thing. He was average height, with light brown hair falling in loose waves around his shoulder. His handsome face was highlighted by dark, voluptuous lips that made me immediately wonder what they’d feel like.
What the hell, Gwen? He’s cute, big deal. Get a grip and stop perving.
His jade green eyes caught mine, and electricity zipped up my arms and through my entire body, as if it sensed that he was somehow different than the many cute strangers I’d admired in passing. As if this time, there was more to my random attraction.
I felt my face warm, and I tore my eyes from his, more ruffled by the open longing I saw on his face than my own unexpected desire. Not that a guy had never given me an appreciative glance before. I got the odd smile or once-over as often as the next girl in the diners where my mom worked, but not when I had bedhead and was wearing the same rumpled clothes I’d slept in…twice.
A rush of shame washed over me. He was probably wondering why there were dirty strangers at his table, not admiring me.
“Your lobster’s getting cold,” Rosa said, gesturing with her fork toward Finn’s plate.
“Right,” he said, shuffling forwards and taking his seat. He swung around, sliding his paint-splattered jeans under the table. Tiny droplets of
black ink spotted one tan forearm, and a drop had landed on his left cheekbone.
“Gwen, your mother tells me you’re an avid reader,” Neil said after a minute of awkward silence.
I looked up, startled, and cast my mom a worried look. She didn’t like anyone to know anything about us, not even the smallest detail. What else had she told him?
“She reads at least a book a day,” Mom said with an encouraging smile.
“Out of necessity,” I muttered. I knew she wanted me to make conversation with her new guy, but it was just too bizarre.
Mom smiled apologetically and took a bite of lobster. The moment washed over me in all its ridiculousness. We were eating lobster in a freaking mansion. A giggle threatened to bubble up inside me. Struggling to keep it inside, I pinched my lips together.
“I like reading,” Eliot said quietly, pushing his glasses up on his nose. He was slouching at the table the same way he did when he stood—with his shoulders folded in, as if he were trying to be smaller, to disappear. I knew that position well from times when my mother had drawn public attention, and a protective longing unfurled inside me again.
“Cool,” I said, offering him a small smile. “We’ll have to compare reading lists after dinner.”
Eliot looked surprised, which endeared me to him even more.
Xander snorted. “That sounds fascinating.”
What was his problem? Was he the reason Eliot was so shy? I could see it now, the cocky older brother with his dangerous scowl overshadowing the geeky, quiet brother. All the girls in romance novels fell for guys like Xander. The hot, mean ones. But I thought they were jerks.
“What else do you like to do?” Eliot asked, watching me intently.
I looked to my mother for help, and she smiled and nodded for me to answer. I wiped my hands on the linen napkin beside my plate. “I like…maps.”
I cringed even before Xander scoffed, right on cue, with exactly the curl in his upper lip I expected. Not that I cared what he thought. But…well, maybe I did. It was hard not to feel self-conscious around a guy who looked like he did—and who clearly knew it.
Emerge: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance Page 3