Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
A moment later, my father's arms were around the both of us, strong and reassuring as I always remembered them, holding his family back together again.
My brothers, understandably, were standoffish.
It was a different relationship, a different bond. And I had left them during the—arguably—most important years for siblings, the years that made or broke the deep friendship that was possible to be found there.
My gaze lifted, finding them watching the scene.
I didn't know what to expect. They'd still been gawky, awkward things when I had left, all arms and legs and pimply faces, still too young to take on any hints of manhood.
But now, well, they were both men, weren't they? Tall and wide as our father, judging by the way their bodies looked under their shirts, they'd been hitting the gym, they'd been working on themselves.
Fallon was the spitting image of Dad. The same sharp angles, the same sort of cocky, almost indifferent glare. The kind that said he had seen it all.
Seen it all.
God, what had he seen?
What stories did he have to tell that I wasn't a part of? More than he could ever tell me himself, surely.
Finn, though, was more a mix of Mom and Dad. His face shape was more our mom's but with a stronger jaw, with a broader forehead. He was a little thinner than Fallon, a little less bulky in the muscle.
Both of them seemed almost wary of me.
Wary.
"Baby, we're so happy you're home," my mother cried into my neck, squeezing me tighter.
"I'm sorry it took so long," I whispered back, feeling a sting at the backs of my eyes, closing them tight to fend off the tears.
I wasn't sure how long we stood there like that, just embracing, just listening to my mother say over and over how much she missed me, how happy she was, how much she loved me.
"I love you too," I assured her, feeling like the absolute scum of the earth while I did so, not nearly worthy enough of the love she had for me.
With that, they pulled away, my mother swatting at her cheeks, my father throwing an arm around her, leaning over to kiss her forehead.
My uncle was the next to hug me, squeezing me so tight I could barely breathe before releasing me.
He'd changed his hair.
I remembered thinking before I was taken that I needed to find a way to tell him he was getting a little old for his haircut. I wondered who finally got the guts to inform him. He'd grown the shaved side out, having a head full of long hair instead, hair he had pulled back at the moment.
"You look good, kid," he told me, eyes a little glassy.
My Aunt Lo was next, moving toward me with purpose. I prepared myself for another rib-crushing hug.
I really should have known better.
She didn't hug me.
She slapped me across the face.
The sting was immediate. But more than the physical pain, the emotional pain was like a stabbing inside.
Outside of training, no one had ever laid a hand on me. They didn't believe in it. So the fact that my aunt got angry enough to slap me, well, that said a lot, didn't it?
"That was for staying away," she told me, giving me a firm nod.
"I deserved it," I agreed.
"Good. We agree. Now, this is for coming home," she said, giving me that hug I had been expecting.
When she stepped away, it was Fallon who spoke next. "So, you're back," he said, voice hollow, a little cold.
"I'm back."
"And when are you leaving again?" he asked.
Sharp. He was sharp. I should have expected that. He was our father's son. He was who was likely going to take over the MC one day.
"You can't leave," our mother insisted, her voice sounding choked.
A sound that made me shoot daggers at my brother.
"It's a valid question," he insisted, crossing his arms. A muscle was ticking in his jaw. So much like our father.
"For another time," I shot back, daring him to push it, to make a scene right here in front of our parents.
"Yeah, man," Finn agreed, shouldering our brother. "Relax. The Prodigal Daughter returned. We should get a cake or some shit."
Some shit.
Some weird, big sister urge inside me wanted me to tell him not to curse. At least not in front of our parents. I was instantly transported back to my teens, always trying to big sister them, to assist in making them tolerable human beings.
But, I needed to remind myself, that wasn't my place anymore.
They didn't need help raising.
They were grown fucking men now.
They could curse in front of our parents if they wanted to.
"You celebrate," Fallon suggested, making his way toward the door. "I'm going for a ride."
"Thanks for the room," Finn told me, coming in for a quick man-hug. "Fallon used to slay dragons in his sleep. It was fucking obnoxious."