Chapter 36 #2
“Tristan volunteered himself, thinking Tessa was going to use her Barbie scissors on him. The fake ones that don’t cut,” Tuck starts.
Tessa cackles manically like she had when she was six and knew exactly what she was doing.
“He had chunks missing from the back of his head.” Tuck lifts sections of his hair all over the place, which makes Daphne chime in with Tessa’s laughter.
Great. Now they’re all laughing at me.
“Dad had to shave his head,” Tuck says with a shit-eating grin. If he’s not careful, I’m stuffing the lobster tail shell down his throat.
“He looked like a bowling ball,” Tessa cackles as she scoops up more mac and cheese. “Tuck took a sharpie and drew three dots on his head while he was asleep. Dad must not have noticed because he sent Tristan to school looking like that.”
“It wasn’t funny,” I grumble. “They called me pinhead for a month.”
“It was great,” Tuck says as he reaches for his Pepsi.
“I’m sure it was. For you,” I say, “It was the only time in your life where you were the attractive twin.”
Tuck throws a piece of carrot at my head, but I dodge it.
Hawkeye darts over and scoops up the surprise treat before he sits and waits for another.
His big eyes shine up at me and it’s so hard to say no to a face like that.
But a good parent disciplines their child, and I’m not feeding Hawkeye at the dining room table.
I’ll sneak some leftover carrots into his bowl later.
Daphne’s still snickering as she digs into the pocket of her jeans and retrieves her phone.
“Oh, it’s Daphne,” Tessa points excitedly at the phone.
“Huh?” Daphne raises an eyebrow at her.
“You were the first to look at your phone,” Tuck says with a grin. “That means you’re buying the next family dinner.”
“Usually, Tuck’s the guilty one,” I tell her.
“Hey, I still have patients, even if I’m not on shift.
” He whines as he defends himself, and yeah, he’s got an important job and all, but Dad raised us not to answer the phone at the table.
Granted, when we were teenagers, it was never life or death.
We implemented that rule a few years ago, mostly since Tessa and I knew Tuck would be the one who’d have to pick up dinner most of the time.
It’s not like we can’t afford it. Tessa could hack her way into pretty much anything she wants and scoop out millions without being detected.
But it’s fun annoying the hell out of Tuck.
“That’s alright,” Daphne says as she shoves her phone away. “What should I get?”
“It’s dealer’s choice,” I say. Whatever the cost, I’ve got her covered. I may have slipped another five grand in her bank account this morning for the hell of it.
Tuck’s phone rings, the theme for House chirping from his pocket. Seriously, why doesn’t he use a generic sound like the rest of us plebians? We get it. He’s a doctor.
“Sorry, it’s the hospital.” He pushes his chair back and takes the call, stepping out of the dining room and off into the kitchen.
“So, Daph, what do you think of Tristan’s hobbies?” Tessa asks as she rests her elbows on the counter and leans in. God, Mom would have thrown a fit over that.
So, I rest my elbows on the counter and ask innocently, “What hobbies? Like collecting Pokémon cards? I think it’s cute.”
Tristan blushes, and Tessa lets out a gunshot of a cackle. “Oh my God, he doesn’t, does he?” Tessa gasps as she whips her head over to her brother. “Do you?”
“Why did you have to tell her that?” Tristan groans at me.
Because I don’t know if your sister knows about your more political pastimes.
“Does she know?” Tessa asks, the teasing tone falling away.
Tristan nods, and Tessa turns back to me.
So, I nod too. “Yeah, that’s kind of our meet cute.”
“Aw, look at you two.” Tessa grins. “And you’re okay with it? I mean, don’t you know those people?”
I probably should be more affected by Tristan’s hobby—he’s slaughtered one of my coworkers plus others whose hands I’ve shaken, who I made small talk with at fundraisers.
But I understand why he does it. It’s not spite.
It’s not because he disagrees with their political platforms—its because they’re dangerous and powerful and will put innocent lives in jeopardy for a few more dollars to pad their designer wallets.
Not all rich people are bad. Not all people in politics are evil. But the ones on his kill list… they’re rotten to their core.
I shrug. “I knew them, yeah. But I’m far away from politics now. In fact, I’m working on building up my social media accounts.”
“She’s great at it.” Tristan winks at me, and the blood from my cheeks plummets down between my thighs. When is his family leaving so I can jump his bone again?
“Well, I’m glad to hear it. Are you busy on Tuesday, Daph?
” Tessa beams. “I always treat myself to a self-care day on Tuesdays. We could grab lunch and get a manicure. My nails need some work.” She checks her hands.
I don’t know what’s so bad about them, but Tessa winces like they pain her to look at them.
“Yeah, I’d love that,” Daphne smiles. “I haven’t had my nails done properly in months. I usually get cheap press-ons.”
What are press-ons? And how much are manicures?
While they make plans to meet up and spend an afternoon shopping with Tessa’s friend, I open my bank account app and send her another five grand.
I hear Tessa suggest a bookstore and double it to ten grand.
“Sorry guys,” Tuck says as he reenters the dining room. “I’ve got to go.”
“There’s more to life than work,” I point out.
“Tell that to the parents of a kid who was hit by a car. His foot was crushed under a tire. The surgeon will be lucky if he can save it without amputating.”
Yikes!
“Sorry,” Tuck grumbles. “Work’s been rough the last few weeks. We’re understaffed, and I’ve been pulling mostly twenty-four-hour shifts. I promise I’ll be better company next time.”
“If this is you as bad company, I don’t mind,” Daphne says as he hinges at the waist to hug her from her chair. “Next time, you can tell me more humiliating Tristan stories.”
Tessa cackles again. “Oh, we’ve got a boatload of them.”
“Or a butt load, as Tristan used to say.” Tuck winks at Daphne, and I want to smack him so hard his eyeball pops out of its socket.
“I’m going to follow you out,” Tessa says as her chair scrapes along the hardwood floor. “We’ll leave these two alone for the night.”
Tessa and Tuck hug and say their goodbyes. As I shut the front door and lock it, Daphne’s still giggling.
“So,” she says. “What are we going to do with a butt load of leftovers?”
“Careful, Princess.” I drop my voice to that tone that has her freezing in place. “I’ll give you a butt load of something better than leftovers if you—”
Daphne cracks up. “Can we please stop talking about butt loads? It’s so not sexy.”
I crook my finger, encouraging her to come closer.
When she does, I scoop her up until her ankles lock around the small of my back, those thick thighs clinging around my waist. “How’s this?
” I whisper in her ear, and she shivers in my arms in anticipation.
“I’m going to stretch out that perfect ass of yours until it can take me, then I’m going to fill you up over and over again until you’re screaming my name. ”
“Yes, please,” Daphne pants.
I dash up the stairs, two at a time, to our bedroom.