Damaged Like Us (Like Us Series Book 1)

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Damaged Like Us (Like Us Series Book 1) Page 27

by Krista Ritchie


  Farrow’s smile has split his face in half. Because my sister called me a toad hole demon. He finds a way to focus, and he tells them, “I can guarantee all three of you that I’m better than your brother at everything.”

  They perk up.

  “Very few things,” I correct.

  “Some things,” Farrow amends.

  “Maybe.”

  His brows jump when I concede. I’d much rather Farrow, who’s experienced, pierce my siblings than me fuck it up. Still, I don’t get why we’re doing this at all.

  “You seriously want to do this, Luna?” I ask. “After all the shit that your tongue piercing got you in?”

  “It healed though, and I love it.” She sticks her tongue out, a lime-green ball in the center. “And if all of you get piercings, we’ll be linked in sibling solidarity. It’s something the Cobalts would do. Don’t we have that too?”

  Luna stares at each of us, even Farrow, like she’s mentally grouping us together as the Hale family. A band of fucking weirdos.

  We’re all smiling.

  “Yeah, sis,” Xander says and then points at Farrow and the piercing gun. “I’m trusting you, man.”

  “I’m not piercing you with a twelve-dollar Claire’s gun.” He turns to Luna. “You need piercing needles—”

  “I bought some of those too…or really, Eliot did. His birthday gift to me.”

  “Get those, rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and an apple.” Farrow listing out random items shouldn’t be hot. My cock is obsessed with the weirdest shit.

  “Got it. Be right back.” Luna darts out of the room.

  “Is this gonna hurt?” Xander asks.

  My brows knit. “It’s a needle. In your ear.” Of course it’s going to hurt.

  “Moffy, I’m asking the guy with real piercings.”

  Farrow leans on the bedpost. “Getting smarter.”

  I shoot my bodyguard a middle finger.

  To aggravate me, he makes a point to only acknowledge Xander. “It barely hurts.”

  “Okay, good.” Xander bites his nails, a bad habit. Any physical changes to our bodies, the media hones in on—hair color, piercings, tattoos, even bruises and cat scratches. So knowing the extra attention will come, I’m kind of surprised Xander would want a piercing. It’s either out of his love for Luna or he’s hoping it’ll distract tabloids from his sudden growth spurt.

  I check my watch. Mom and Dad should be home any minute.

  Xander spits out his nail. “What are you getting pierced, Moffy?”

  My jaw tenses. “Probably nothing.”

  “I told you,” Kinney pipes up from the bed. “He’s a prude.”

  Farrow pops a piece of gum, his James Franco smile at full-force right now.

  “I’m not a prude,” I tell my sister who looks very similar to a gangly, round-faced Luna except for the dark hair, jet-black eyeliner, mascara and lips. “And even if I were, there’s nothing wrong with being a prude.”

  Kinney clicks the remote absentmindedly. “That’s exactly what a prude would say.” Then the TV lands on a tween channel, and a familiar, catchy pop song blares.

  “Shit, no!” Xander rotates on the bed to restrain Kinney who lunges towards the television.

  I already sprint over and catch Kinney around the waist. Her bony limbs flail and fight to reach the TV. She’s eighty-pounds. I could easily toss her over my shoulder. But I don’t.

  Because she’d try to bite my ear off.

  “Let. Me. Go!!” Kinney yells.

  Farrow finds the remote and shuts off the commercial. She’s still squirming in my arms and trying to launch herself at the TV.

  Xander blocks his flat-screen. “This is brand new. You’re not breaking it.”

  Kinney kicks out, and I tighten my hold.

  Luna returns with all the piercing supplies, and our old floppy-eared basset hound follows. Gotham runs slowly to each of us and licks our legs.

  Luna gapes at our sister. “Uhh…”

  “Viv,” I explain but also unleash the name that causes Kinney to accidentally elbow my windpipe—fuck. I cough hoarsely, arms slackening on Kinney. I let her go.

  And she immediately spins to me, wide-eyed. “Oh hell. Moffy?”

  I hold out a hand like I’m fine, but Farrow reaches my side, a hand on my back. I’m bent forward, palms on my thighs. Stop coughing. I try to straighten up and massage my neck.

  “Say something,” Kinney demands. “Right now.”

  At ease, Farrow says, “How about let him breathe first?”

  Kinney sends a death glare his way.

  “I’m alright.” I cough one last time into my fist, my eyes watering. I pinch them, and then say to my sister. “I thought you were over Viv. It’s been three months since she left for LA.”

  Her girlfriend moved to star in a tween show with a lot of dancing and a lot of singing, and they only split to forgo the long-distance thing.

  It didn’t break Kinney’s heart as much as toughen it. Every time the show or song airs, she’s smashed her phone. The television. She’s already eaten through her entire allowance for the year.

  And in her words, “Worth it.”

  Kinney huffs. “I am over it.” She points at the TV. “That show is just crap. Not the star of the show, obviously. Viv deserves better. She’s much more talented than that.”

  “Uh-huh,” Luna nods and hands Farrow the supplies. He pulls out a Zippo lighter from his pocket.

  “Maybe you should try seeing someone else?” I suggest. “Is there another girl you’re interested in?”

  “No,” she snaps at me. “And you have no experience in dating, so you just need to chill.”

  Farrow grins and pops a bubble.

  Being burned by my thirteen-year-old sister is nothing new. Having her bring up my lack of experience in dating in front of Farrow, yeah, that’s priceless.

  Luna tells our sister, “Tom said he’d take you to a bar to get over Viv.”

  “No,” Farrow and I say in unison.

  “I meant a lesbian bar,” Luna clarifies.

  “Still no,” I say.

  Kinney gawks at Farrow and me. “I should revoke both of your memberships to the Rainbow Brigade for being so unfair.” She coined the Rainbow Brigade when she was nine, and she dubbed herself the president since she’s the only lesbian. It consists of me, Tom, Farrow, Oscar, and Kinney. It’s all in spirit since we haven’t done anything as a group together yet. “I know you’ve both been to gay bars and clubs—”

  “We’re adults,” Farrow says, chewing his gum slowly.

  I add, “And you were twelve barely a month ago.”

  “I have the heart of forty-year-old,” she says with complete seriousness.

  Farrow rebuts, “You still have the body of a nine-year-old.”

  Kinney glares. “I’m thirteen, you turd.”

  “Don’t call him a turd,” I snap.

  “And you’re a turd, too.”

  Farrow smiles and produces a flame from the lighter, sterilizing the needle, but he doesn’t get far. Gotham starts barking like the front door just opened.

  MY SIBLINGS, Farrow, and I pile onto the staircase. One part of the house creates a tunnel of sound, and everything my parents say in the foyer is a megaphone to these steps.

  We can’t see my mom and dad yet, and Kinney extends her arm. Blocking all of us from descending to the living room.

  “Let’s not eavesdrop,” I whisper to her.

  “Shh,” she hisses. “They’re probably talking about something nauseatingly cute. Just wait.”

  Xander rests on the banister, Luna plops on a stair, and I turn to Farrow beside me. He smiles like your family, man. Then he passes Luna a piece of foiled gum.

  I hear my dad first. “This isn’t a debate.” He speaks to my mom. “He’s legitimately the worst character in X-Men lore. Period. Done. End of story.”

  “He’s funny. I liked him.”

  “You can’t say that out loud,” he tells her.
“One. It’s ridiculous. Two. His name was Goldballs.”

  “The balls part is not why I liked him,” she combats fiercely.

  “I know that, Lil. Other people don’t,” he says. “And you’re a lying liar because I know he’s not even in your top ten. You’re just going stand there and tell me he ranks above Sunspot, Magik, Emma Frost, Cyclops, X-23, or Hellion. Christ, we named three of our children after X-Men.”

  Kinney, Xander, and I all exchange a look.

  Luna blows a bubble with her gum. She was named after Luna Lovegood, a Harry Potter character.

  My dad continues, “Can you imagine if Maximoff was actually named Goldballs?”

  I glower at Farrow like do not speak of this, ever. He’s dying in amusement. It’s palpable and all over his face.

  Dear World, stop making my boyfriend who loves to fuck with me enjoy today more than he already has. Sincerely, a peeved human.

  My mom groans. “Please, stop.”

  “Admit he’s not in your top ten.”

  “Top twenty.”

  “I can live with that,” my dad says.

  “Good because I wasn’t going to change it for you,” she replies. I imagine she’s grinning, lifting her chin and playfully crossing her arms. I’ve seen her do it a thousand times before.

  “Ouch,” my dad says in mock hurt. “Right in the heart, Lil.”

  “It’s the only place I can reach,” she refutes.

  “I’m not sure about that…” Their voices soften. Too quiet. Which means they’re lip-locked.

  “Mom! Dad!” I shout, and Farrow and I reach the base of the stairs first.

  A huge realization crashes into my chest right now—just as my mom swoops into view with a hearty wave and flushed cheeks.

  For the first time, I’m about to have a family dinner with Farrow as my boyfriend. I get that he’s technically here as Luna’s guest. He’s even off-duty as my bodyguard. But the clandestine fact grips onto me.

  I thought it’d be bittersweet, not being able to share the truth with my family. Keeping my relationship a secret. Private.

  It’s not bitter at all.

  I share so damn much of my life with them. With everyone. To have this space meant for only Farrow and me for a while feels less confining and just free. No pressure, no expectations. Just me and him.

  Just us.

  32

  FARROW KEENE

  AS LILY’S EX-BODYGUARD, I consider myself fairly versed in all things Hale. And for as many conversations I’ve had with Lo, her husband, I’ve never been apprehensive or afraid. Never broken a sweat.

  But I’ve also never been alone in a kitchen with him, cooking an easy pasta meal for Luna’s birthday. While carrying a loaded secret: I’m not just protecting your son. I’m sleeping with him. Oh, we fucked this morning, and I even gave him the best blow job of his life. He said so.

  I manage to act casual, not cagey, but I stand on an edge I’ve never neared before. It’s a new feeling, for sure.

  I fill a pot of water.

  Lo lights a gas stove. “How are you and your father getting along?”

  “We’re not.” I shut the faucet. “I haven’t talked to him in two and a half years.” I place the half-full pot on the stove.

  “Huh, well I think eventually he’ll come around.” Lo rests a comforting hand on my shoulder. Dr. Keene has been loyal to the families for a very long time. See, they hope my father and I can mend whatever we tore, but that’s only going to happen if I leave security and work as a doctor.

  And I’m not leaving Omega.

  I’m not leaving Maximoff.

  He drops his hand to pour tomato sauce in a pan.

  “Dad.” Maximoff enters the kitchen from the living room, where the rest of the Hale family watches a sci-fi show before dinner. “I can help with—”

  “No, no.” Lo points a spatula at the door. “Out.”

  This is the fifth time Lo has shooed his son out of the kitchen. Maximoff narrows a glare onto me like, do something.

  I lean on the counter. “You can’t be a part of everything, wolf scout.”

  “Says you,” he refutes. “I say I can.”

  “At least now we know who’s smarter.”

  “Me—”

  “Farrow and I have this under control,” his dad cuts him off. “Him and me—we’re talking. Go spend time with your mom. The one who nudged you awake when you slept as a baby. All because she was afraid you weren’t breathing.”

  “Alright.” Maximoff straightens up and shoots me a look like don’t let him know we’re together.

  No shit.

  After he disappears, Lo asks me, “How’s the security working next week with the tents?” He means at the Camp-Away. One week left.

  I removed my radio tonight, but Donnelly has been counting down to the raffle’s closing. We’ll have randomly chosen the 300 entrants by midnight. Then, we all have the arduous task of vetting them in seven days. I’m of the mindset that if any fucker slips through, we’ll handle it at the camp.

  Preferably with no fists.

  I’ve already had four bodyguards tell me, “Better get ready to grab Maximoff,” believing I’ll need to drag him out of a fight. Everything’s now shaded in a new light. I’d drag my boyfriend away from a fight. Not just my client.

  My boyfriend.

  I sense an emotional current racing through my veins. At a much higher voltage.

  I shake salt into the pot of water. “Since Maximoff, Jane, and Sulli are the only ones attending the Camp-Away, besides the raffle guests, we’ll put most of the security on those three at night,” I start explaining the sleeping arrangements to Lo.

  “How?” He stirs the sauce, his concern apparent in his daggered amber eyes.

  “Their personal bodyguards will be inside their tent at night—”

  “So you’ll be sleeping in Maximoff’s tent with him?” His voice is edged. Normal for Loren Hale. But I pause, shoulders tensed up, and I study his sharp features.

  Shit, I’m caging a breath right now. I never hold my breath. Not unless I’m having mind-blowing, eye-rolling sex with his son.

  I comb both of my hands through my black hair. “Yeah. There’ll be another bodyguard from Alpha outside of the tent. No one can unzip it unless they want a broken wrist.”

  Lo stirs silently and then nods several times.

  “We’ve coordinated everything down to the tiniest detail. It’s all taken care of, Lo.” I sense his overwhelming parental concern. I turn to Maximoff’s dad. “I promise you that I’d never let anything bad happen to him.”

  I’m falling in love with your son.

  “I trust you, Farrow,” Lo says with ease.

  It simultaneously knots my stomach and relieves me. Our heads swerve as Lily slips into the kitchen, a Star Wars Wampa cap on her head. Three years on someone’s 24/7 security detail is like a decade of time.

  “Farrow.” She smiles.

  “Lily.” I hug one of my favorite people in the world. Not bending down to her height, I straighten up, arms wrapped around her, and her feet lift off the ground.

  Lily clasps my cheeks in two strong hands. “How are you? Are you eating? Have you hydrated?”

  My lips rise and set her on her feet. “Hydrated, well-fed,” I assure. “All is well.”

  Lily beams at my choice of words. “All is well—did you hear that, Lo?”

  “I heard, love.” He glances affectionately at his wife.

  Lily claims a barstool and splays her hands on the counter. “Moffy hasn’t been too stubborn, has he? He doesn’t mean to be. He just likes to take on all the responsibility.”

  “I’ve noticed,” I say, and right on cue, Maximoff enters and sits on a stool beside his mom.

  “What are we talking about?” he asks.

  “You,” I say matter-of-factly.

  He flashes an agitated smile. “Can’t figure out any other subject?”

  “Don’t be mean to Farrow,” Lily says, elbowing h
is side.

  His brows pinch. “Mom, he’s being an ass to me.”

  I lean on the counter. “Listen to your mom, Maximoff.”

  Lo dumps spaghetti in the pot. “Question, why’ve you only been calling him by his full name?”

  “Ask your son that.”

  “Moffy?”

  His shoulders square. “For Christ’s sakes, I like my full name, and I’m not a kid.”

  I nod slowly, the answer finally coming. You didn’t want me to see you as a child. He’s twenty-two, but I used to only call him Moffy when he was younger.

  Lo pretends to be shocked. “You’re not a kid? Jesus Christ, when did that happen? Lily?”

  “I didn’t do it,” she says. “I wanted him to be young forever. Like Peter Pan.”

  “Peter Pan doesn’t have parents,” Lo rebuts. “You’re taking us out of the picture, Lil.”

  “A Peter Pan with parents then.”

  Maximoff watches their interactions with fondness, then he looks to me. He wishes for that. He’s letting himself yearn and long for the soul-bearing love and admiration his parents have.

  I want to give it to you. All of it.

  “Farrow.” Lily’s voice draws my gaze. “Are you seeing anyone new?”

  I force myself not to glance at Maximoff. “I am, but it’s…complicated.”

  “Been there, done that,” Lo says.

  Maximoff frowns and motions to his dad. “What the hell was so complicated about you and mom? You were best friends who lived next door to one another.”

  Lo looks at his son like he’s grown hooves. “We were addicts who enabled each other.”

  “We were doomed from the start,” Lily notes.

  “You persevered,” Maximoff tells them strongly, wanting them to believe their worth, but Lo cautions his children about addiction by using their failures as what not to do. “You overcame everything,” Maximoff continues. “You’re goddamn—”

  “Lucky,” Lo finishes. “Doesn’t erase the hard parts, bud.”

  Lily stretches over the bar counter towards me. “Do you have any friends you could introduce to Moffy?”

  Maximoff looks whiplashed by the abrupt topic change. “Mom.”

  I cross my arms loosely, my smile in a laugh. I wish this could go on all night. “You don’t want me to introduce you to my friends?” I ask him.

 

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