Barrett (The Black Roses MC #7)

Prologue

Camryn

“Look, I’m about as excited as you are about having to tag along with you and your stupid friends,” I tell my sister Samantha as she’s backing out of the driveway and away from the comfort of my room. Does she really think I want to hang out with her and the boy-crazy sycophants she calls friends?

I’d rather be doing just about anything than be forced out of the house because my mother is having one of her “episodes” and needs complete silence.

It’s not as if I wouldn’t just stay in my room and read or draw without making a sound, but that’s not good enough for my father.

No, when our mother is in this mood, he wants everyone gone—including our housekeeper.

God, I wish I could have gone with her instead of Samantha.

Our father likes to call this a “sisterly bonding” day.

Only problem? Neither of us particularly want to bond.

“Maybe if you had friends of your own, he wouldn’t make me your own personal cruise director,” my sister sneers as she grips the steering wheel. “Have you thought about not being such a fucking weirdo?”

“Have you ever thought that the world doesn’t revolve around you and what you consider normal? Newsflash, my oh-so-perfect sister, you aren’t the center of the universe.”

Samantha turns right instead of left at the end of our drive—away from the town center where we’re supposed to be getting some ice cream and catching a movie. “Where are we going?” I ask, sitting slumped in the passenger seat with my arms crossed over my chest.

A small smile plays on her lips. “It’s a gorgeous day out, and I for one don’t want to be stuck in a dark movie theater.”

I know that smile. And it usually means she’s scheming and pulling me into whatever plan she’s concocted.

“I’d rather not get my ass chewed out when Dad finds out we didn’t go to town, Sam.”

“Oh Jesus, Camryn. You’re such a goody-two-shoes.”

I’m really not, but when our dad gets pissed, things tend to go a little nuclear in our house.

All the slamming doors and shouting make me glad that we live on a five-acre property in Connecticut.

At least our neighbors don’t hear the yelling between my dad and sister or my mother’s wailing cries when those two fight.

“Just tell me what you’re getting us into, please. I need time to come up with a cover story to save our asses. Again.”

My sister and I don’t have the closest relationship, but I’ll be damned if I go down for her shit right along with her—and I would if I let her drag me into it.

Sam has tried—and failed miserably—in the past to cover her tracks when she sneaks out of the house or ditches school.

But since my mom’s been having her episodes more and more often over the summer, I’ve been forced out of the house with Sam, and this isn’t the first time she’s pulled something like this.

It certainly isn’t the first time I’ve had to come up with a story about us being somewhere other than where we said we were going to be.

“There’s a party at the lake,” she tells me. “The girls are meeting us there.” Sam turns up the radio in the car and starts drumming her fingers against the steering wheel.

I lean over and turn the volume down. “Which lake?” It’s always important to get the details from Sam. If I’ve learned anything about my sister this summer, it’s that the devil is always in the details.

“Lake Titan,” she answers with a fake lightness in her tone.

“Are you kidding me, Sam?”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. It’s going to be fun.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” I reply, scrubbing my hands over my face.

Last time she dragged me out to Lake Titan, three fights broke out, and rumor has it that after we left, someone got stabbed and went to the hospital.

Let’s just say it isn’t exactly in the best area, and definitely not somewhere my parents would approve of us going.

My dad would kill us if he found out we’d been there once, let alone going today.

“Don’t be such a snob, Camryn. Not everyone was born with a silver spoon in their mouth.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, since when did not wanting to get stabbed at a party make me a snob?”

“That rumor was never confirmed,” she replies. I can practically feel her roll her eyes behind her oversized sunglasses.

“Sam, this is a bad idea. What if Dad asks us about the movies or asks to see the tickets?” It’s not unusual for him to ask multiple questions when we get home.

“Tosh and Clarissa are meeting us. They’ve both seen the movie, so we can get the rundown from them, and Tosh said she’d buy tickets on her way out, so we have proof we were there.” She turns her head toward me with a wide smile on her face. “See, you aren’t the only smart one in the family.”

“Eyes on the road,” I tell her when she veers slightly into the other lane. “If we get into a wreck out here, it’s going to be that much harder to come up with an explanation of why we’re driving in the opposite direction of the theater.”

Samantha shakes the steering wheel again, and the car weaves as she laughs.

One hand flies to steady myself on the dashboard while my other hand grips the grab handle on the roof. “Sam! Knock it off. I’m not kidding.”

“Come on, Camryn,” she says with humor lacing her voice. “Lighten up. You’re fine, and we’re going to have a fun day together.”

And this is what my sister does.

She gets pissed when she is “forced” to spend time with me, then as soon as I agree to one of her plans, it’s like we’re best friends, and she’s just wanting to have fun with her sister.

I know this, and yet I fall for it every time.

Because she’s my sister, and I love her.

“I see you trying to hide your smile,” she says, poking me in the side.

My lips press together in a firm line. “Am not.”

She pokes me again. “Yes you are, Camryn. Don’t deny it. You’re just as excited to see how the other half has fun.”

“Now who sounds like a snob?” I ask.

Samantha shrugs. “What? I’m sick of dealing with the Chips and Thornston Robertson the Thirds—or whatever the hell people name their kids. They’re boring as hell.”

“Then why do you hang around them?” I ask.

She blows out a long breath and shakes her head.

“To get out of the house, mostly. I can’t be cooped up there with a mom who is drugged out of her mind and a dad who screams his head off if there’s a fucking coaster out of place.

” She rests her head against the back of her seat as she continues to drive, letting out a long sigh.

“God, I can’t wait to get the hell out of there. ”

Samantha is planning on heading to New York at the end of the summer for university.

And I’ll be stuck at home. Alone.

Though I resent the hell out of these forced sisterly outings, I can at least admit I need to get out of the house on occasion, and this accomplishes that.

Sam nudges my leg. “You’ll be able to come see me in my swanky New York apartment, and I’ll take you to all the best parties in the city.”

“You aren’t going to want your little sister hanging out with you. Besides, with you moving out, it’s not as though you’re going to need me to cover for you anymore.”

“I know we don’t get along all the time,” she starts. “But I also know what it’s going to be like when I’m gone. Dad isn’t going to have anyone else to blame every little thing on. If it gets too much for you, you can come stay with me for the weekend to get away.”

“In the apartment that Dad pays for?” I tease.

She’s silent for a moment as her jaw clenches. “It’s the least he can do,” she finally mumbles, then shakes her head, her entire demeanor changing again in an attempt to bring back the lightness from a moment ago.

There have been times throughout the years when watching Samantha flip through every range of emotions reminded me of a Rolodex.

She’s never been good at keeping her feelings trapped inside her.

But she never expands on those feelings, even when I push her, so eventually, I just stop asking.

Then she makes comments like that about our dad, and I have to wonder if there’s more to her disdain for him than what she’s shared with me.

Yes, our father is harder on her than he is on me, but she also challenges him at every turn. I tend to hide away when I can; I’m not a fan of rocking the boat. Basically, the complete opposite of my sister.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. Mom and Dad pretty much leave me alone,” I reassure her. “I’m the daughter with no friends of her own who has to be forced out of the house, remember?” My tone is light as I joke about the comment Sam made earlier.

“You’re probably right.” Sam stares at the road in front of her before shaking her head. “What are you going to do without me when I leave? Your life will be so boring,” she says with a laugh.

I chuckle next to her, because honestly, that’s sort of true. Though I don’t necessarily think of it as a bad thing. I like my quiet life in my room with my books and art. It suits me.

“I’ll miss you, though,” I tell her. “Even if you drive me crazy half the time.”

“Only half?” Sam responds, arching her brow.

I laugh and tilt my head side to side. “Maybe a little more.”

Sam nods with a smile on her face, then turns up the radio.

We sing and laugh along to the music. For the first time in a while, I think about the times we used to spend in our rooms choreographing silly dances together instead of the fights that have been almost daily these past couple of years.

I remember my sister doing my hair and makeup because it’s never been something I’ve been particularly good at.

Nowadays, she usually takes one look at what I’m wearing and rolls her eyes because she “has to be seen in public with me looking like I got dressed in the dark.”

These are the moments that keep me falling back into the habit of easily forgiving all the shitty things she says to me just so that I have fun times with my sister again.