Chapter 1 #2
I do a quick glance down the curb to see if I can lose him and hail a cab, but I know it’s no use when he adds, “Booker, it’s her! It’s Allie!”
My eyes cut to the cab of the truck as Booker hops out of the driver’s seat and makes his way toward me.
His dark hazel eyes are squinting sympathetically as he pushes back his short brown hair.
“I’m so sorry about Tanner. He’s a special kind of wanker.
” He reaches for my bag and shakes his head like this is a normal occurrence and he’s powerless against him.
Tanner puts a foot on the edge of the truck bed and drops lithely to the concrete.
He still has that smile as he approaches, hovering over me like a giant.
“Bring it in, cuz.” His big arms wrap around me nearly twice as he lifts me up in a bear hug.
“I told Booker I’d be able to spot you.” He ruffles my long, golden hair, extracting wisps from their proper place and creating a curtain over my eyes.
“I remember that one time I shampooed this mop with mud because I told you it would help your boobies come in.”
I now appreciate the protective shield of hair as my face bursts into flames. “Thankfully, my boobs came in all on their own, no thanks to your cosmetology skills.” I push my hair out of my face and glance down at the sign. “Prison, Tanner? Really?”
He holds it up again and shrugs. “Well, your flight from Chicago was delayed a whole day, so I had extra time on my hands.”
Booker clears his throat and adds, “Speaking of time, we need to get moving. The reception for those of us not important enough to be invited to the ceremony is in a couple of hours, and I’m sure you want to get cleaned up.”
I make a half-hearted attempt to fix my hair and catch sight of Booker’s dimples as he tries to conceal a chuckle at the state of me. I follow them to the truck and mumble under my breath, “God, it’s good to be back.”
Sandwiched between Booker and Tanner for the forty-minute drive to the hotel, it’s fun to listen to their British accents as they ramble on and on. Mine is nearly nonexistent after being in the States for so long, but it slips out every now and again from being around my father all the time.
More than their accents, it’s even more fun being caught up on all the Harris family happenings.
Booker is still living in their dad’s mansion in Chigwell, though he may be moving into a place of his own next year.
Vi is living with her fiancé, Hayden, but they are holding off on a wedding until the baby comes.
Tanner’s twin, Camden, is apparently all but married off after falling deeply in love with his knee surgeon only a few weeks ago.
And Tanner admits he’s in the middle of taking a naked tour of East London… Whatever the hell that means.
When they ask me about my relationship status, I have a sudden case of word vomit and end up sharing far more than I intended.
“The boyfriend is nonexistent on the account that I found him fucking my stepsister, slash former roommate, slash former best friend in my bed of all places. As if our very adequate two-bedroom apartment didn’t have enough square footage for him to slip his micropenis in, they decided infesting my space with their sex drippings would be a blast. It’s comical really, because he’s been a jealous freak our entire relationship, barely wanting me to look at other men, let alone talk to them.
He’d probably be jealous of you two even after being told we share a bloodline. ”
I stop talking and the cab of the truck grows eerily silent for a long, awkward length of time.
Jeez…Did I say too much? Heck, Tanner was nattering about his sexual escapades, so I thought my drama would be par for the course.
It felt good letting it all out with Vi, but I apparently should have kept my mouth shut with her brothers.
Just when I’m about to say something to lighten the mood, Booker interrupts me with his stone-cold voice. “Name. We need a name.”
I frown at him and Tanner barks next. “An address would suffice. I have a former teammate who plays for Chicago Fire. He owes me a favour.”
“Yes. Mitchem would do the job properly,” Booker adds through clenched teeth. “Give us your bloke’s work address. This prat deserves public humiliation. Something to make him lose his job. What a worthless fucking sod of a man…”
“Good thinking, Book,” Tanner chirps, sounding oddly cheery, like they’re in the middle of some kind of brainstorming session. “Where does he work?”
Tanner presses his phone to his ear, and I realise he’s actually calling his Chicago friend right now. I grapple with him for a moment before freeing it from his grasp and quickly press END.
“I’m handling it,” I snap, mostly angry at myself for revealing such personal information to two of the most caring freaks in the world.
“How?” Booker demands. “Details, Allie. We need to know how you’re handling this because, as far as I can tell, this tosser needs to be castrated. And I think we need to hand your stepsister off to Vi.” He shudders at that thought because Vi truly has her four brothers terrified of her.
Of course they don’t know that Vi is already in the know. She has bent over backwards to help make this trip a diverting one. Something to get me out of my funk.
But hearing Booker and Tanner volley back and forth over how they are going to exact their own revenge is so moving, I’m not even surprised when tears well in my eyes.
Blind loyalty…Is that what family is truly about?
Rosalie and I were close during the ten years our parents were married, but I can’t say I ever felt such a strong sense of protection from her.
Is this a brother thing? Or a Harris thing?
Maybe both.
I stare open-mouthed at Booker and Tanner, feeling stunned because I haven’t shed a single tear since the horrid Tuesday afternoon I found my stepsister and boyfriend in bed together.
Not one tear. I just drank, moved out of my apartment and into a spare bedroom at my coworker’s, and formulated my revenge.
But here I am now, packed in between two overly-muscled nut-jobs being all noble, and I’m nearing emotional volcanic eruption.
My voice is shaky when I croak, “Thanks for all of this, guys, but it really isn’t your problem.
” I clear my throat, praying they didn’t notice the crack in my voice.
“I’m not eight years old and needing you to attack the schoolyard bully.
I’m twenty-four. And I appreciate the suggestion to have him stretched and quartered, but I think I have it covered. ”
I feel Tanner’s eyes pinning me to my seat, but I refuse to look at him.
I refuse to let these two do-gooders manhandle their way into my business or, worse, ruin my big plan for tonight.
I’m actually excited about this plan! It feels good to be taking action against them after two weeks of avoidance.
After a long, uncomfortable moment, Tanner huffs loudly and states, “Did you really say ‘sex drippings’ a minute ago?” Booker cracks up laughing and I bite my lip to remain composed. “Fuck me, you’re a bloody Harris if I ever saw one.”
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