by Vanessa Vale
Dad came around the center island and stood beside Mom. Side by side, they were a unit, a fortified wall that had always found me lacking.
“Son, you go off for days at a time. No one knows where you are, what you’re doing. Like when Erin… well, you were nowhere to be found. We worry.”
They worried? Only that I would do something to tarnish the Mills name.
“I go out on trips into the wilderness. There’s no phone reception. You remember the company I run; that I help other vets? When Erin was killed, I was off scouting a new location, planning a special itinerary for those who are missing a leg, who might not be able to climb a damned mountain.”
I’d returned after three days in the backcountry to a cell phone with a full inbox and a dead sister. I’d been questioned by Nix Knight, and my story had been checked. The idea they even considered I might have killed my sister pissed me off, but they’d been doing their jobs.
Dad waved his hand, tucked it into his pressed khakis. Mom was in an outfit of pale blue, Dad in a darker shade so they matched.
“We didn’t know that! After what happened, we don’t know what you might do. It’s not safe for you.”
“What happened?” I countered. I took a deep breath, let it out, counted to ten.
They waited. Watched for me to freak out. I wanted to. Oh, fuck did I want to. But it would only prove their point.
“What happened was I went to war. You know, the fight against terrorists. Bad guys. The one that’s still going on in Afghanistan?”
Dad offered me a patronizing smile. “But when you got home, how you had a breakdown.”
I closed my eyes for a moment. “PTSD. I had an episode.” More than one, but what happened was the one they’d witnessed. The freaking out. The violence. The anger. “I went into therapy. Got help. Still getting it, actually. Now I help others.”
When I returned, depression had kicked in. I jumped at loud noises. I didn’t sleep. Considered suicide. It had been rough. Still was at times, especially in the middle of the night. Cy had been there for me. He’d been the one to first take me off camping, riding his horses into the backcountry and let me just be. It had made a difference for me, and now he and I together were making a difference for others.
“You went astray long before that… episode,” he added.
Mom nodded. “That’s right. You took up with Kit Lancaster.” She sniffed.
“Jesus, Mom,” I muttered. Un-fucking-believable.
“She was trouble from the very beginning.”
“Careful! That’s worth more than your salary,” Dad shouted, pointing to one of the movers. I turned, looked over my shoulder at how they were struggling with an abstract painting that had been over the fireplace. It was supposed to be of the Montana prairie, but it looked like a kindergartner’s finger-painting project to me.
“Yes, you’ve mentioned how much you dislike Kit. She wasn’t trying to steal my money, remember.”
“Are you sure about that? She used her body like a weapon.”
Yeah, she had. But Mom was insinuating she was a slut or something to get what she wanted in trade for sex. Kit had been a fucking virgin. Hell, so had I. For a few weeks there, she had used her body to lure me in. I’d been nineteen, just got inside a pussy for the first time and I hadn’t wanted out.
“And when she broke up with me, I went as far away from her as I could. Remember, war?”
We’d had a good thing, but it had ended. I’d needed to get away, from more than just Kit. From my parents and their constant pressure to be something I wasn’t. From Cutthroat.
Mom pursed her lips. “You weren’t supposed to enlist. You were supposed to settle down with someone else.”
I studied her closely. “What are you saying?”
“Nothing,” Mom replied.
“Nothing,” I repeated. “I wasn’t supposed to enlist when we broke up? You had a plan for me?”
She looked to Dad. “To take your spot in the family business.”
“And Kit held me back how?”
“Think of the grandchildren! Her mother is crazy.”
I knew all about Kit’s mother and her hoarding, her agoraphobia. I didn’t give a shit about that. Kit was sweet. Kind. She’d been great. Back then, I’d thought I loved her, and perhaps in a teenager’s way, I had. But grandkids? Kit hadn’t ever had sex before. I highly doubted she’d thought about making babies. Then, or maybe even now.
“What did you do?” I asked, my voice low.
“Nothing,” she said once more.
I spun on my heel, went into the great room. All the furniture was gone, only a few boxes were stacked in the corner, a standing lamp by the windows. This was all that was left of Erin’s life. She’d bought the house with her trust fund money, getting advice from our parents on the right neighborhood, the right furniture.
They were never going to change. I’d accepted it long ago. Hell, I’d gone off to fucking war to get away from them. I was twenty-seven years old, and they still talked about a girlfriend from almost a decade ago. A girlfriend I was suspecting had never broken up with me, that my parents had been involved somehow.
They hated Kit. They hated I’d gone to war. They hated my career choice. That I didn’t touch my trust fund or live the expected Mills lifestyle. Of everything I did. Everything was wrong.
“What are you doing with Erin’s things?” I asked, instead of telling them to fuck off. Instead of words, I’d been telling them that with everything I’d done since I turned twenty.
“The guest house. The furniture there needs an update.”
The guest house was five thousand square feet and had a movie theater and indoor pool. I doubted it needed any kind of upgrade. The fact that they were emptying out their daughter’s house without even shedding a single tear, relegating her things to furnish a home for visitors… it showed a coldness that made me ache for Hailey. For the closeness we shared. The feeling of belonging.
Because if they were this unfeeling about the child who they loved, then I could only imagine how they’d have been if something had happened to me. Like a rummage sale out on the front lawn.
I walked over to a filled trash bag, glanced into the open top. Reaching down, I grabbed out the skull jewelry box I’d given to Erin when I was ten.
“That’s going in the trash,” Mom called. “Silly junk.”
I stared at the jewelry box. It wasn’t worth anything, just a piece of plastic that told the time, but I’d gotten it from the back of a cereal box when the Pirates of the Caribbean movie had been in the theaters. Erin had seen it and wanted it so bad, being the only girl who had a scary skull to hold her earrings. I’d gotten it for her, mailed in the cereal labels and money, then waited weeks for it to arrive. I’d surprised her with it and it had been the one—and probably only thing—that connected us.
The fact that she’d kept it all this time made my heart ache, made me realize there was a piece of her that still connected to me. She hadn’t shown it, hadn’t put any effort into a sibling relationship, but the stupid skull jewelry box? It said so much.
No fucking way was it going in the trash.
“Hello!”
I looked up at the sound of Hailey’s voice from the open doorway. All the anger, the frustration went away at the sight of her. She had on a pair of cargo pants with sneakers and her gray coat. Her hair was pulled back into a sloppy bun. She looked ready to help move.
Yeah, I loved her. Fuck, did I. My dick agreed, perking up at just the sound of her voice. I remembered what we’d done earlier. Christ, it had been hot. And watching Cy carry her off to his room, to hear her cries of pleasure as I took a shower and got ready to leave, to know she was getting thoroughly fucked… I shifted my cock in my pants to a more comfortable position.
I had to tell her. I had to say the words. But what if I failed her? I had no doubt I would. Thank fuck Cy was with her, too. Now, and hopefully always.
My parents came out of the kitchen, the
ir drinks abandoned on the counter, to greet her. They offered her hugs and air kisses like she belonged.
She belonged with me. And Cy, who stood behind her and shook my dad’s hand.
Cy was all too familiar with my family dynamics, and it amazed me that they were civil with him, let alone allowing him into Erin’s house. What the fuck was up with that?
If they still held a grudge against Kit Lancaster for doing nothing but being herself, then I would have assumed they’d shoot Cy on sight for what his dad had done. They were the first to think that blood tainted blood and Mr. Seaborn had falsely admitted to killing Erin, their beloved daughter. But no, they still liked him just fine.
Whatever. I was done trying to figure them out.
Hailey came over to me, went up on her tiptoes and gave me a kiss. “Hey,” she whispered. “Why are your parents nice to Cy? Shouldn’t they hate him because of his dad?”
I looked to where Dad and Cy were talking, my mother walking outside to yell at the movers.
I shook my head. “I was thinking the same damned thing. I swear, I’ll never understand them.”
“They like me,” she replied. The tone was far from smug, only stating a fact.
I nodded. “They do.”
“They can tell their golf buddies their son is dating a famous skier.”
I nodded, then kissed her temple. “That they can. It works for me. I tell people in the checkout line I’m fucking a famous skier.”
She rolled her eyes and punched me in the arm. I couldn’t help but laugh. “What? It’s true.”
“Lucas,” my dad called. We looked his way.
“Cy here says he’s with Hailey, too.”
“What?” Mom practically screeched as she came through the doorway and overheard.
I looked at Hailey, who didn’t seem the least bit bothered. Thank fuck. I didn’t plan to keep our relationship with her a secret, but I didn’t expect Cy to tell my parents. They were assholes and she didn’t need any of their asshole-ness aimed her way.
“That’s right. She’s mine and Cy’s,” I told them.
“Actually, Mr. and Mrs. Mills,” Hailey said, setting her hand on my arm, giving it a squeeze. “Lucas and Cy are mine. I want them both.”
I’d said the same damned thing, but coming from Hailey, they believed it because Mom quickly shut the front door, barring the movers from finishing their job.
“You can’t be serious,” she hissed, her eyes darting from Cy to me. “Both of you? What will people say?”
“That I’m lucky to have two wild mountain men for my own?” Hailey suggested.
“What kind of man are you? Certainly not a Mills,” Dad snarled. His face was splotchy, a vein bulged at his temple. “First taking up with that slut, Kit, then going to war. I mean, really. Let other guys save the world. You just needed to settle down and take over the family business. But needing Cy because you’re not enough for a woman on your own? A Mills man is supposed to be better than everyone else, not half.”
I stilled, barely breathed. I knew how my parents felt about me, but the venom they were spewing now was poisonous and it would take me down, just as they wanted. If my parents thought like this, then it was a good thing Hailey had Cy, too. I’d known they were right because that was what I’d been telling myself all along. I was broken, and I couldn’t give Hailey everything alone.
“Actually, Mr. Mills, trust me, Lucas is all man,” Hailey said, her chin tipped up, her voice full of sass. “I can assure you his dick is magic. I might be a famous ski racer, but I’m greedy and like two men who know what they’re doing.”
Cy smothered a laugh by coughing.
Hailey looked up at me. “It doesn’t seem like they need any help moving. Want to head out?”
I looked into those gorgeous blue eyes. I saw anger and laughter, heat and sass in their depths and wondered how pink her ass still was, if Cy had spanked her more after I’d left. My parents didn’t faze her. Not one bit. Did I want to come? Hell, yes. Deep in her pussy and my dick agreed.
7
CY
* * *
“I thought you didn’t want to be in town,” Lucas grumbled as he walked up. Neither of us had wanted to leave a vehicle at Erin’s house where we might run into his parents again, so we’d both driven, meeting downtown in front of the bar.
He was in a shitty mood, and I didn’t blame him. He was used to his parents dicking him around, but his dad saying he was less than a man for sharing a woman? Fuck, I hated that asshole.
“I don’t,” I replied, opening the door, music from the jukebox blasting us along with the warm air. “But after that shit show, we need beer and I’m hungry. I’m sick of my own cooking.”
Hailey went in first, and I eyed her ass. Fuck, did it still have my handprint on it? I remembered the feel of her pussy as it milked my dick, then the feel of her hot mouth as she sucked me dry. Fuck, I was getting hard. “I figure with Hailey famous like she is, everyone will be focused on her, not the son of Dennis Seaborn,” I added.
That was a complete lie, but I was running with it. Lucas needed people around him to feel better. Normal people to remind him that his parents were a fucking disaster, not everybody else. Yeah, I was a total hypocrite, because my own father was the biggest loser.
Lucas needed music. Beer. Bar food.
As for me, it was doubtful any reporters were lying in wait. It had been a few weeks since my dad pulled his shit, and there had been no updates on the case. I doubted there were any reporters outside of the local paper still in town.
Even so, I liked having Lucas and Hailey as a buffer if someone did approach. Since Lucas had lost his sister, I doubted they’d be dicks and fuck with the grieving family. They had some standards… I hoped.
The Gallows did a steady dinner business and got crowded later in the evening, especially on the weekend. But at four o’clock, the hostess led us to a booth right away. I sat across from Lucas and Hailey.
This day had been crazy. I’d woken up alone, as usual. Cranky, as usual. Then this blonde-haired vixen showed up and told me she wanted me to fuck her. And I did, not once, but twice, my handprint a bright pink on her gorgeous ass as I did so. My dick should have been satisfied, my balls empty, but damned if I didn’t get hard just looking at her across the table. We’d taken her bare. Our cum was in her. Fuck, probably slipping out, making her panties all slick and wet.
Shit. I shifted in my chair.
“Is that Eddie Nickel?” Hailey asked, glancing across the room to a large group that was by the dart boards and pool tables. Based on the number of empty glasses and plates scattered around them, they’d been here for a while.
Lucas set his forearms on the table and leaned forward, looking in that direction. “Yeah, he’s wrapping up a film shoot. Probably his film crew taking a break.”
“I didn’t know he was in town,” I replied.
Eddie Nickel was a famous movie star who lived in Cutthroat, at least when he wasn’t in LA, which wasn’t too often. He had two kids, Poppy and Shane, who weren’t into acting or the outrageous movie star lifestyle that swirled around their dad. We’d grown up with both who’d been pretty much raised by a nanny. Shane was our age and we’d hung out with him in high school.
“That’s because you’ve turned into a fucking hermit,” Lucas countered.
The waitress arrived before I could say anything. We ordered wings and a pitcher of beer.
“He’s shorter than I thought,” she said, still looking the guy’s way. Seeing the famous Eddie Nickel wasn’t all that exciting to me, just someone who put his pants on one leg at a time like everyone else. I’d met him before. He was totally full of himself and was pretty much an absentee dad. And since I had one of those of my own, that was one strike against the guy. A big one.
But, bringing a film shoot to Cutthroat helped the economy, so I couldn’t hate his guts… much.
“Women toss themselves at him, or at least that’s what the tabloids say,�
� Lucas replied.
Hailey turned and looked at Lucas, pale brow raised. “You read the tabloids?”
Lucas flushed, then grinned sheepishly. “Gotta do something while waiting in the checkout line.”
A full pitcher and three frosty glasses were placed on the table, and I thanked the waitress. I poured, pushing the first one to Lucas. “You’ve earned the first beer.”
He looked to me, then gave me the finger. He lifted his glass and when Hailey and I had ours, he toasted. “To loving parents.”
I didn’t miss the sarcasm one bit. I was damned happy I had him as a friend. I couldn’t get—or at least keep—a woman like Hailey on my own. Who’d want Dennis Seaborn’s son?
I looked to Hailey. Her tongue darted out to lick her upper lip. “What?”
“You know about Lucas’ parents. You’ve heard about my dad.”
And she’d still let me spank her ass.
She nodded. “Lucas told me and well, I’ve seen the news.”
Who hadn’t? The fact that he’d been a total douche canoe and admitted to a crime he hadn’t committed, one as heinous as killing Lucas’ sister, should have been enough to have her fleeing from my presence, not intentionally showing up at the ranch. She’d shown up for me. Me.
“Fucking insane,” I said, confirming what we all knew. “We still don’t know why he did it. As far as I know, he’s never even met Erin before.”
“Why don’t you go ask him?” She cocked her head, patiently waited for my answer. Inside, I fumed. I hadn’t seen the fucker since the night he walked out on me and mom. Not a birthday card or even an appearance at graduation. Nothing. I hadn’t even seen his face until it appeared on the news. For two days, I’d thought he’d done it. So had everyone in Cutthroat, and the police. That had been bad enough. But then Lucas had called and told me what he’d done—falsely admitted to killing Erin. For some reason, that made it even worse.
“What about yours?” I asked, diverting, hard core. This wasn’t going to last, but dwelling on dear old dad wasn’t going to get her back in my bed.
She took a sip of her beer, set the glass down on a coaster. “My parents? They’re not assholes.”