Dad reminds me of a snake. Glittering scales. Fangs hidden before he bites. Smooth when he moves. So smooth he’s almost oily.
We’re the only ones who can see it.
His family.
The people who should matter but don’t.
To the world, he’s glittering, not because of his scales but because he’s made of gold. To the world, his fangs aren’t venomous. To the world, he’s charming, glowing. Perfect.
A snake in sheep’s clothing.
I adjust in my chair and the loud creak snaps through the silence.
Marion, dad’s clueless new wife, lifts her head and smiles at me. Dark skin. Short hair. Fancy dress. And giant diamond ring on her finger. She looks so proud of it. Of him.
I wonder if she’s that innocent. I won’t give her the benefit of the doubt just because she’s Miss Jamieson’s mother.
They always want something—dad’s women.
Whether it’s money, fame, the prestige of sleeping with a musical legend. It’s always about them.
I think Marion likes dad.
But loves him?
I don’t know.
“Is something wrong, Dutch?” Marion says.
I shake my head.
She smiles.
I don’t.
Her smile falters and eventually disappears.
For a moment, the only sound in the dining room is the cut of knives into steak so raw, I can hear the cows mooing.
Dad likes to see the blood ooze out. It brings him joy to know that his meal had, only moments before, been slaughtered.
I don’t eat the meat.
Neither does Zane.
Although my brother might be starving himself for other reasons.
He’s sitting at my right, his eyes burning into Miss Jamieson—who looks like she’s about to choke on her salad.
I’m not sure how she feels about all this. Since dad’s announcement, she kept her distance at school and remained stoically professional. Could be because she’s embarrassed or because she genuinely hates this as much as we do. No one knows.
Finn is to my left. He’s not eating either. His eyes are glued to a book under the table as if all this is beneath him.
But I know the truth.
Finn is distracting himself to keep quiet. Seeing Zane lose it and smash his drums to pieces in the garage made us both uneasy.
Dad is tearing into one of our own.
Finn wants action. He wants dad’s pain now rather than later.
It’s hard to be patient. To play the long game.
Neither of my brothers enjoy this farce.
I don’t either.
But if we get emotional, dad wins.
He knows he can control us. He knows which buttons to push. Which wounds to dig his fingers into and make it hurt worse.
We need a win right now.
My eyes slide over to the woman eating daintily at the foot of the table. She’s wearing long, glittering earrings. Her hair is in a fancy bun. Her dress is similar to Marion’s, but it sits differently on her. Like she was born to wear it rather than simply taking it off the shelf because it was the most expensive.
“The meal is good,” mom notes, chewing daintily.
Marion smiles wide. “Thank y—”
“It’s the company that’s lacking.”
Marion chokes.
Dad’s eyes widen.
Miss Jamieson frowns.
Mom doesn’t flinch. Her expression is blank. The complete opposite of dad. There’s no pretense with her. No lies. She only knows how to be direct and honest. It’s a perk of growing up as an heiress. Mom did whatever she wanted, said whatever she wanted and bore none of the consequences for it.
It’s made her fearless.
Finn smiles for the first time.
Zane laughs under his breath.
I give mom a proud look.
I’m glad she got here in time.
Dad wipes his mouth with a cloth napkin and shifts in his chair. “Jacqueline, how did you manage to make it tonight?”
“I hopped in my private jet and came over, Jarod. Are you asking that question because you don’t know or because you’re disappointed I’m here?”
Marion coughs.
Dad huffs and glances away.
“Well, I think this is wonderful. I’ve always wanted to have a big family meal.”
“Oh, are we family?” Mom looks amused.
Marion scrambles to save face. “Of course we are. Jarod’s said so many good things about you, Jacqueline. And your boys are so… uh… precious…” Marion glances at me as if she’s scared I’m going to jump over the table and stab her, “in their own way.”
Finn snorts.
Miss Jamieson lifts her head and pins her mother with a nervous stare. “Mom.”
“What?”
She sets a hand over her mother’s, a silent instruction to be quiet.
Despite her daughter’s warning, Marion slips her hand away and keeps yapping her mouth. “As Jarod’s new wife, I want to create a harmonious environment. I don’t see why everyone can’t get along.”
“We don’t usually meet the wives,” mom says calmly. She sticks a carrot slice into her mouth. “They don’t stick around long and it’s a bother to keep remembering the names.”
Marion stiffens.
Dad scowls. “Do you have to go this far?”
Mom swirls her wine around. Her eyes meet mine, a glinting hazel. Like the single flame that flickers over a candle. “I’m stating the obvious, Jarod.”
“If you were just going to complain, you should have stayed away.” Dad rolls up his napkin and tosses it into his plate.
“Believe me, I wanted to. But when I received my invitation, I couldn’t say no.”
Dad curls his fingers into fists, saying nothing more. The power balances are slipping. They always do when mom enters the room. Dad might have been the young, rebellious rockstar who caught mom’s attention, but she was the one who got him knocking on the right doors and meeting the right people.
She made Jarod Cross.
Part of me is hoping she can finish him too.
Dad’s new wife suddenly rises from the table. Her smile is trembling. Any minute now, it’s going to collapse. “I’m feeling a bit weak. I’ll go lie down until it’s time to return home.”
“I’ll come with you,” Miss Jamieson says.
Zane leans forward as if he plans on escorting her. At the last minute, he catches himself and remains seated.
Our Lit teacher loops her arm around her mother’s elbow and walks with her up the stairs.
Zane’s eyes are trained on them, brimming with a longing that I know well.
Because I feel it every damn time I look at Cadence.
My fingers close around his shoulder in a comforting squeeze.
He brushes me off and draws his chair back. “I’m done too.”
I glance at Finn. My brother and I share an unspoken communication before Finn gets up and goes after Zane.
Mom motions her fingers to dad. “Jarod, let’s talk.”
Martina, our housekeeper, waits until mom and dad leave the room to approach me. “Señor Dutch,” she says in her heavy accent, “would you like me to bring a plate of real food for you?” She winks.
I smile and shake my head. “Maybe later.”
She gives me an ‘okay’ sign and gestures to the servers waiting on either side of the table. They rush to remove our plates, heaping stacks of wasted food on trays and wheeling them out of the dining room.
Finally, dinner’s over.
I need to check on Zane but, first, I call Cadence.
She answers on the fifth ring. “What?”
“Were you sleeping?”
“None of your business.” Her voice sounds scratchy. I can picture her in bed, hair tussled and eyes at half-mast. Damn. Just the memory isn’t enough. If I didn’t have this crapshow of a dinner, I would have rushed over there and finessed my way into her bed.
We wouldn’t even have to mess around. I’d be okay just holding her.
And that right there tells me I’m in deep.
“Did you eat?” I ask.
“Why do you care?”
I smile at her heated tone. “I have something important to ask you.”
“What?” She grunts.
I lower my voice. “What are you wearing?”
Cadence makes a sound of pure frustration and it takes everything in me not to laugh.
“Call me to ask stupid questions like that again and I will poke the air out of all your tires. Try me.”
I laugh outright this time. After filling my car with trash and stealing my clothes from the pool, I know that’s not an idle threat. She’s good for it.
“Goodnight, Cadey.”
“Eat dirt, Dutch.”
I smile when I hear the dial tone.
She’s sexy as hell. I’m not going to lie. Pissing her off is fun. Plus I’m glad to hear her snapping at me. It means whatever she’s going through with her family isn’t keeping her down.
A part of me wants to text Jinx and get info about it, but there’s another side of me that wants Cadence to share.
For now, I’ll wait for her to tell me what’s wrong.
If she takes too long, I’ll take matters into my own hands.
After pocketing the phone, I head down the hallway to grab the car keys for the Lambo. We barely take it out, preferring rugged trucks to something as delicate as the convertible. But Zane needs some air and it’ll help to take a drive.
On my way, I pass the room where mom and dad are talking.
“I’ve been turning a blind eye because what you do with your life means nothing to me, but keep irritating me, Jarod and I’ll tell the boys everything.”
I freeze, my ears perking up.
“Go ahead and tell him. You think I’m scared?”
“I think you’re being a child. Why are you in constant competition with the boys? So what if they want to play for Bex Dane and not you? It’s their life. Let them live it!”
“You coddle them, Jacqueline. That’s why they’re unruly and uncontrollable.”
“Controlling adults isn’t in my skill set, Jarod. If it was, you wouldn’t have been such a massive disappointment in our marriage.”
“I’m through talking with you. The next time you decide to grace us with your presence, leave me out of it.”
“Remember my words, Jarod. Don’t you dare smother these boys and threaten them with moving in or I have no idea what I’ll do.”
I hear agitated footsteps.
Dad is storming out of the room.
Quickly, I duck behind a post and watch him, face screwed up and ears red, stomping to the front door. It slams shut a moment later.
Mom’s dainty footsteps patter toward me.
I step out of the shadows. “What do you mean? What does dad not want to tell us?”
Mom yelps. “Dutch, what are you doing here?”
“Is there something I should know?”
She studies my face. After a few moments, she beckons me. “Step inside, Dutch. Let’s talk in private.”
