52. cat’s out
CHAPTER 52
CAT’S OUT
LINCOLN
Kyle hobbles into the dining room at dinner, exaggerating his injury like he’s playing the World Cup. No one’s seen him since breakfast, and I’d hoped Ivy and I could get through our last night without his smug face ruining it.
The meal is an exercise in patience. It’s hard to believe that I once thought Deacon’s parties were excruciating, an excuse for him to puff himself up and lord over us all for three days straight. They’re a walk in the park compared to this.
Richard seems intent on making us dread every second we’re here, like some ridiculous comeuppance for being denied his “rightful inheritance.” As if we aren’t all sitting in the multimillion-dollar estate he was left.
Joe looks like he’s regretting being alive for any of it. If I thought Art could lie convincingly, Joe surely would have faked his death by now. A few times over, most likely.
If tonight gets any worse, I might have to join him.
Beside me, Ivy is coiled tight with tension, her thigh clenched under my palm. Kyle is sneering across the table with so much intention it sets my blood on fire.
Then he clears his throat and stands, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, my hens have come home to roost. “I know it’s customary on the last night for the birthday boy to make a speech,” he says, pasting on his gummy smile. “But I’m hoping you won’t mind if I say a few words instead.”
“I already said I don’t need to bother with all that,” Joe grumbles.
Kyle ignores him, victory in his eyes. “Trust me, you want to hear this.”
There are a few wants I have that are nonnegotiable. Ivy, happy and by my side, preferably forever; that’s number one. My family in good health is another. A single fish absolutely crucial.
But in this moment, I can’t think of anything I want more than to not hear what Kyle says next.
“This weekend is supposed to be about commitment to this family, but someone here has done nothing but lie to every single one of us, and I’m here to set the record straight.”
“Just get on with it,” I growl, but I know he won’t. He’s enjoying this too much.
“Lincoln, something you want to add? Or maybe your girlfriend does?” His face contorts cruelly. “No, nothing? And you’re normally so chatty.” Screw family. I’m going to kill him, and honestly? I’m not sure anyone would stop me.
“We’ve graciously opened up our home to you all because family was important to Pop,” Kyle continues.
A few seats down, Judy lays down her spoon and rolls her eyes.
“You come here every year, pretending to get along, and we ignore what we know is being said behind our backs. But I’ve had enough of being treated like the asshole when I’m the only person in this room who isn’t ashamed to be himself.”
I fucking wish he would be and save us all.
He’s aiming his words at Reed now, no smile to hide his malice anymore. “You don’t even have the honor to take Deacon’s name, but you’ll take everything else? And then you sit there and act like you’re better than us, talking about how family is important when you don’t do shit for us. You took his money, and you kept it all for yourselves. You’re worse than we are, because if Dad had gotten everything like he should have, we would have at least made sure you had something.”
Kyle places both hands on the table, taking the time to glare at every person present. I was wrong. This isn’t solely about money. The prick took his personal failures to make anything of himself and convinced himself it’s our fault. No wonder Mr. Silver’s popularity pissed him off. He’s fucking jealous.
“But now it’s time for you to get what you deserve,” he continues. “Because guess what? Your family isn’t perfect. Isn’t even close. Well, guess what, dickheads? Your brother gets paid to whore his voice out for strangers. All that time you spent wondering how he paid for shit after you cut him off?” Kyle scoffs. “There’s your answer. You’re related to a digital prostitute.”
Darcy is staring daggers at him. “The term is sex worker now, you uneducated twat.”
“Fuck you, Darcy,” Kyle replies.
She leans back and crosses her arms over her chest. “Yes, threatening me with incest is really making you look like less of a wanker.”
The silence that descends is as bleak as I’d imagined it, and Kyle smiles, triumphant, despite the fact that his foot must be throbbing by now.
“I haven’t called a sex line in years. Are they cheaper now?” Betty asks, and Art promptly chokes on his water, his shoulders racking with shakes that I can see are mostly laughter.
I don’t know why I answer her. I blame the shock. “I couldn’t tell you, Nan. I narrate intimate experiences for an online app. It’s not quite the same thing.”
“Not far off,” Kyle sneers.
Betty is nodding. “Oh, that’s nice. I spoke with a lovely young man on one after your grandfather died. He was very patient with me and even helped me change the Wi-Fi password. After that, the sex was a bonus.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath, but it’s simply Darcy gasping for breath while she laughs behind her hand.
Meanwhile, Richard’s gone dark red. He slams one hand on the table. “Mom, that is incredibly inappropriate.” His voice bellows out. But there’s no controlling us now. Kyle’s little gamble just popped the pressure cork on this weekend, and there’s no stuffing it back in.
“Where the hell did you even get the number from?” Judy asks Betty, leaning across the table. “And do you still have it?”
“This is disgusting.” Richard throws his napkin onto this plate and stands, scolding us like children. “You should all be ashamed of yourselves for entertaining this. I’m going to bed.” Helen follows him out, and for a second, I see Kyle debate leaving with them, but he must decide against it.
After all, my brother is yet to say a word.
Sally’s husband stands, looking sheepish, mumbling something about an early night. He takes the kids with him. Dale waves off his family when they leave, undoing his tie and leaving it hung around his neck as he sprawls back in his chair. At the other end of the table, Judy fills her wineglass to the brim and tops Sally up when she gestures for more.
Ivy, my absolute rock, clutches my hand between hers, and I can’t begin to say how grateful I am for her. No matter what happens here tonight, I know things will be okay.
I don’t dare look at Reed.
“Well, if we’re spilling secrets finally,” Mum says, jolting me out of my stupor, “I should admit that I was the one who crashed Dad’s Porsche.”
Dale finishes chugging back his wine. “Of course it was you. You know Dad never forgave me for that.”
Sally scoffs, pulling her hair out of its painful bun. “As if you’re any better, Dale. Or have you forgotten about buying Mason that scholarship when he failed to get accepted anywhere?”
“Jeez. Did everyone here bribe their kids’ way into school?” Ivy asks quietly to herself.
Dale, for his part, almost looks wistful. I already mentioned my family was a shit show, right? “Loopholes used to be cheaper. You should see how much these lobbyists are asking for now.”
“Oh my god, Dale. Would you shut up?” Judy gripes. She, too, has embraced the loosened atmosphere, shedding her rings and earrings in a small pile in front of her. “Unless you’re going to tell us about having a juicy affair or a terminal disease, I don’t want to hear it.”
Chastised, he sits back.
For a moment, I think that’ll be all, and I’m preparing to say something — possibly announce a move back to London at this rate — but then Sally bursts out with “I slept with your husband,” which has every head turning.
There’s barely enough time to wonder who and what before Aunt J laughs. “I already knew that, Sal. Neither of you were subtle.”
Sally covers her eyes with one hand. “God, he was terrible in the sack.”
“He really was, and so bony,” Judy muses, and Christ, half her glass is empty already.
Sally nods. “Wasn’t he just? It was like fucking a stick figure,” she says, causing them both to raise their glasses in a toast to shitty ex-husbands. Darcy and I share a silent what the fuck? across the table.
Then Joe leans forward, because sure, why not? This circus is officially out of control. Let’s just add my ninety-year-old great-uncle to the mix. He’s even smiling, for Christ’s sake. I don’t think I’ve seen him smile in over a decade. I’m not sure what to do with myself. “You know, Art and I went to a sex club once. It wasn’t bad. A tall man in a gimp mask brought me water and let me use him as a footstool. Do you remember that, honey?”
Art nods. “I do.”
“Oh, fucking Christ. Not you too.” Reed groans, the first words he’s said since Kyle stood up, and beside him, Darcy is slipping off her chair, wheezing. Reed takes one look at her and finally cracks a smile.
I have no clue what is happening, but thank fuck I’m sitting down.
“That’s it?” Kyle asks, leaning on the table more as he teeters on his good leg. “You’re all just going to act like this isn’t a disgusting insult to our family name?”
“Oh, put a pin in it, Kyle,” Mum says. “You could stand to be half the man Lincoln is.”
Ivy’s hand is trembling, but her voice is venomous. “I think everyone here would be far more interested in hearing how you’re currently being sued by four different people, or how you’ve been attempting to blackmail Lincoln for the past week.”
He’s breathing hard now. “Does he give you a discount every time you leap to his defense?” His gaze darts to mine. “Guess it makes sense you took the easy road, since you’ve never been smart enough to make it as anything else.”
Everything stops when Reed stands, his chair screeching loudly along the floor, his face calm enough that I know he’s truly angry. I ready myself for the onslaught, but it’s not me he walks to.
No, he steps up to Kyle, politely says, “I owe you this,” and punches him square in the nose.