Trying Not to Love You (Moran Sisters #1)

Prologue

Ellison

“Ellie, get your ass up here.” My sister, Baylor, motions for me to join her and our other two sisters in their dance party in the middle of the living room.

Baylor is the closest in age to me, being two years younger.

At twenty-one, she’s free-spirited and as independent as they come.

She’s got big dreams, and she’s not going to let anyone stand in her way.

“I’m supervising,” I fire back, taking a sip of my sweet tea. Grandma Ruby makes the absolute best sweet tea.

“Nope. It’s sisters’ night,” Baylor reminds me, shimmying her hips on her way to the couch. She offers me her hand, and I take it, allowing her to pull me to my feet. I roll my eyes but wiggle my hips at the same time, and all three of my sisters cheer me on.

I was thirteen when we started sisters’ night.

My parents were going on a date night, and my youngest sister, Courtlynn, was six and not having it.

She wanted to go with them, and her big crocodile tears broke my heart.

I was supposed to hang out with friends that night, but I changed my mind, declaring it a "sisters’ night" instead.

It became our tradition anytime our parents had a date night.

At thirteen, I’d been the oldest, so all three of them had looked up to me.

Courtlynn had quickly dried her tears, and it was junk food, movies, and dancing, then, as Courtlynn got older, boy talk.

That was ten years ago, and we’re still going strong.

Of course, it helps that we all still live at home.

I’ve considered moving out several times.

In fact, my best friend, Kinzie, and I are going to look at an apartment in town next week.

Magnolia Ridge is small, so available places are few and far between.

We’re both pretty certain we’re going to sign the lease.

We’ve been talking about this for years, and we’re finally going to make it happen.

I work for the family business, Magnolia Manor, so I live on the same grounds where I work. At twenty-three, it will be nice to have some independence away from my sisters and my parents for once. Don’t get me wrong, I love them all dearly, but it’s time for me to leave the nest.

I jump at the sound of thunder roaring outside. The deep grumble is so intense it seems to shake the house. Rain pelts the windows, and the wind is howling. A loud crack of lightning has us all screeching and diving for the couch.

Courtlynn bursts out laughing. “What’s this couch going to do to protect us?” She’s sixteen, wild, and witty. As the baby of the family, we all let her get away with pretty much anything when she was younger. Who am I kidding? We still do.

“At least we’re together,” Leighton, my second youngest sister, declares.

Her eyes grow wide as another crack of lightning rolls through.

She turns to stare out the living room window.

“I hope Mom and Dad stay put until this is over,” she muses.

Leighton’s eighteen, and she’s my quiet, kind-hearted sister.

She’d do anything for anyone without a second thought.

“I’m sure they’re fine. Probably waiting it out at the restaurant, letting the storm pass,” I assure them. As the older sister, it’s my job to keep them calm, right?

A huge wind gust rattles the windows, and chills break out across my skin.

“Maybe we should turn on the television,” Leighton suggests.

“Good idea.” Reaching for the remote, I hit the power button, and the TV comes to life. Instantly, the news anchor tells us we’re under a tornado warning and should seek shelter.

“Shit,” Leighton mutters.

“What do we do, Ellie?” Courtlynn asks.

“Basement,” I tell her. “Grab flashlights, candles, a lighter, and some blankets.” Our parents keep a refrigerator down there—just a small one with water—and they keep it stocked, thankfully.

“It might be a long night.” We all jump into action, and I grab my ringing cell phone off the table.

We scramble to get what we need as I answer the call, while the realization hits me that Grandma Ruby is all alone at the inn.

It’s about five hundred feet from the house, and there are only two rooms full tonight.

Grandma Ruby’s name flashes on the screen. “Are you okay?” I answer.

“Ellison.” Her tone is firm, and instantly, I’m on alert. “Are your sisters with you?”

“We’re all here. Mom and Dad are still out. Are you in the basement? The guests?”

“We are,” she says, her voice cracking. “Ellison,” she says again, using my full name, and I know whatever she says next is going to rock me to my core. “There’s been an accident.”

My heart starts to race, and my palms are sweaty. “What kind of accident?” I ask, waving for my sisters to go on to the basement, nodding that I’m right behind them. My feet are slow to move, but I start taking small steps as I wait for Grandma to say more.

Gram’s voice cracks, and I know it’s bad. My phone beeps, alerting me to another call. Pulling my phone from my face, I see Bowen's name, one of my best friends, on the screen. I hope he’s okay. I need to know he’s all right, but right now, I’m frozen in place.

“Tell me,” I croak. It’s bad. I know it is.

“The water was too high,” she says, her voice raspy and thick. “Their car got swept away. They’re—” A sob breaks free, and I swallow back my own. “They found them, but it was too late, Ellie. It was too late,” Grandma cries.

No. No. No. “Who?” I ask. It’s a stupid question. I know who she’s talking about, but I need to hear her say it.

“Your parents. They’re—gone,” she whispers.

I fall to the floor, phone pressed hard to my ear, as tears race down my cheeks.

They’re gone.

Gone.

Gone.

Gone.

“When the weather clears, we’ll go.”

“Now. I have to go now,” I tell her.

“No. It’s not safe, Ellison. You and your sisters stay where you are. There is nothing that we can do. You have to stay inside. Stay safe,” she says again, and I can hear the anguish and the worry in her tone. “Promise me, child. Promise me you’ll stay put.”

It’s a promise I don’t want to make, but this is me, Ellison Moran, the responsible older sister. It’s my job to keep my sisters safe, so even though the words taste like sawdust, I force myself to say them. “We’ll stay,” I rasp.

“I mean it,” she commands.

“I promise,” I tell her.

“Get in the basement. Once this rolls through, we’ll—” She chokes on another sob. “We’ll go together. I love you. All four of you. I’ll be right there,” she assures me.

“No. If we have to stay, so do you.” Grandma Ruby is in her seventies, and she doesn’t need to be out in this hellish weather either. “I’ll tell them, and we’ll be here until the storm passes, and Grandma, we love you, too.”

I drop the phone, just as it rings again. It’s Bowen. Furiously, I wipe at my tears. I can’t talk to him right now, so with blurry, tear-filled eyes, I type out a text telling him I can’t speak, then shove my phone into my pocket, and stand on shaking legs.

I have to get my shit together to be there for my sisters. It’s my job now, and I won’t let them down.

My knees wobble as I take one small step, then another, to the basement door. As I twist the handle, I find Baylor there, I assume coming to check on me. She sees my face and is instantly on alert.

“What’s wrong?”

I shake my head. I can’t say the words, not yet. I need all three of them together, because I don’t think I’ll be able to tell them twice. Who am I kidding? The first time is going to kill me.

“Ellison.” Her tone sounds so much like our mother’s when she’s trying to be stern with us. The thought has a whimper falling from my lips. I shake my head and nod for her to go downstairs.

Thankfully, she listens, and I follow her on unsteady legs.

We reach the bottom, to find Leighton and Courtlynn huddled on the small couch.

It’s battered from years of use. I can picture it when it used to be in the living room.

Mom and Dad cuddled up to watch a movie with us.

The pain is too much. Reaching up, I rub at my chest, over my heart.

Courtlynn and Leighton both sit up straighter, feeling the atmosphere shift. Something smashes into the small basement window, causing all four of us to scream in fright.

“Baylor, sit down.” My voice is coarse.

“Tell me!” Baylor demands.

“Please, Bay, sit down.” She must hear it in my voice, or see it on my face, because she huffs and turns to sit next to our sisters. As for me, I stand frozen, trying to find the words. I open and close my mouth a few times, unable to force anything past my lips.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, probably Bowen replying, but I ignore it. Instead, I swallow hard and start to speak. “There was an accident,” I tell them. I go on to say pretty much what Grandma Ruby said to me.

“No!” Courtlynn wails. “No. They’re wrong,” she screams, her voice cracking until it splinters into something unrecognizable.

I move toward her, my legs quaking, the air around us thick and heavy, like the room itself is suffocating. I squeeze myself onto the couch beside her, wrapping my arms around her trembling shoulders. She folds into my arms as she falls apart. My heart hammers, its rhythm frantic and uneven.

Forcing my eyes open, I watch as Baylor gathers Leighton into her arms. Their matching sobs come in sharp, gasping bursts. The kind that steals your breath and leaves you feeling hollow inside.

Baylor rocks them gently. Their faces are wet with their tears. Baylor’s lips are pressed together, as if she lets them open, she’ll shatter.

No one speaks. There’s nothing left to say.

The storm outside rages on. The wind howls through the trees, and rain slams against the windows in relentless waves. The thunder sounds like the world itself is grieving with us.

Deep.

Furious.

Broken.

I can’t tell whose cries belong to whom anymore.

We’ve become one tangled knot of grief—four sisters, clinging to each other, holding on with everything we’ve got.

The scent of Mom’s perfume still lingers in the cushions, faint and ghostly, like she’s just stepped out of the room and will be back any second.

But she won’t. Neither will Dad.

The truth presses down harder with every breath.

They’re gone.

Courtlynn’s fists tighten in my shirt, and I hold her closer. Baylor’s whisper carries across the room. A cracked, desperate sound. “What are we supposed to do now?”

No one answers. Because there is no answer. There’s only the storm, the tears, and the unbearable silence left behind by the two people who taught us how to love and how to be a family.

We’re fractured to our core, and I don’t know how we’ll ever be us again.