9. Kiera
KIERA
Isolation had done wonders for Vivienne’s cooking skills. In a matter of an hour or so, she’d managed to throw together a beet and goat cheese salad with honey-orange vinaigrette, five bone-in ribeyes, and a side of rosemary potatoes.
It was strange to see Viv in this homemaker role. Though I was young when she’d “died,” I’d only ever known her as an energetic mother and a kickass lawyer. The country life suited her though. Despite the decade that had passed, she had never looked more lively or free.
Stranger though was watching her catch up with Dom. Dom’s prickliness had subsided since we’d first arrived, if only by a hair. But it was clear from her attentiveness to Viv and her willingness to share that she had desperately missed her mother’s company.
When asked how we all knew each other, Dom was surprisingly honest about Spencer coming to her from Atwood’s killer sorority and about finding Leo again in the depths of the Hollow’s fighting pits. But when it came to me?
“Spencer and Leo found Kiera out at a bar. Brought her home to protect her from her asshole boyfriend. Been struggling to keep her out of trouble ever since.”
My jaw dropped at the subtle dig. No mention of her years of stalking me, the fact that she sent my angels to that bar, or that she’d kidnapped me and locked me up in a dusty old bedroom for days on end.
Before I could pipe up to correct the narrative, Leo cleared her throat to stop me from causing a scene. “That was delicious, ma’am. Where did you learn to cook like that?
She wasn’t wrong. Every little bite was cooked to perfection, and I was sad to see the meal end. Spencer was clearly contemplating seconds despite the healthy serving she’d already had.
Viv smiled as she crossed her fork and knife over her own plate. “Well, Michelin-starred dining wasn’t exactly an option once I moved here. So since I had the free time, I thought why not teach myself to make something that scratches the itch?”
“God,” Spencer groaned through one last mouthful of steak. “If you’re ever taking on students, let me know.”
Through a litany of compliments and questions about Viv’s cooking, we made quick work of the clean up, with even Dom chipping in.
I couldn’t think of the last time I’d seen her pick up a sponge — on second thought, I wasn’t certain I had ever seen that before — but it was satisfying to see her get her hands a bit dirty for once.
It was easy enough to keep my distance from her as we cleaned. There was plenty to do away from the sink. But once we stepped outside, my two knuckle-heads couldn’t help themselves from sprinting across the yard in a mad dash for the chicken coop.
“Feed’s in those big barrels in the shed!” Viv called ahead before sighing under her breath. “My girls will be scared half to death by those two running up on them like that.”
“Most women are,” Dom murmured, earning a glare from me.
Calling Viv’s property a ‘yard’ felt like an understatement — the house was surrounded in every direction by a sprawling field that gave way to acres and acres of woods.
Her taste in landscaping wasn’t so different from Dom’s, actually, though she seemed to prefer a slightly more wilded aesthetic over Dom’s meticulous English gardens.
Landscaping wasn’t the only thing they had in common, either.
Looking across Viv at Dom, I could see the similarities in their otherwise disparate countenances: the sternness of their gaze, the furrow of their brows, that same striking shade of blue in their eyes.
But whereas Dom’s face was stuck in a perpetual scowl, Viv greeted the world with an easy smile.
“They can handle the chickies. Come on, let me show you the garden,” Viv smiled, squeezing each of our shoulders before leaving Dom and I in her dust.
The space she left between the two of us as she stepped forward felt like a gulf and a puddle all at once.
All it took was one second of panicked eye contact for both of us to hurry forward, desperate to catch up with our host. The only thing more awkward than playing nice around Dom’s mom was being left alone together.
And Leo and Spencer didn’t seem like they’d be available to ease the friction any time soon. They were too busy sprinting around the chicken run, trying to catch a hen like something out of a Rocky movie.
Normally, I’d think that watching them slip and slide around on the damp grass was hilarious — endearing, even. But right now, all I could think was how desperate I was for one of them to come rescue me.
While we followed Viv around narrow rows of fledgling rhubarb, garlic, and brussels sprouts, Dom and I were careful to keep our distance, as if each other’s touch was a pestilence.
“How long have you been gardening?” I asked, desperate to break the silence.
“On and off forever,” Viv looked back at me as she brushed her hand through some tall garlic scapes. “I’m not sure if you remember the little flower garden I used to keep at the Valemont house?”
“Where the hedges are now,” Dom murmured, not looking my way even as she answered my unspoken question.
“Right.” I nodded.
And despite the fact that absolutely nothing had happened, I could already feel my cheeks heating. The way Dom said everything made me feel stupid, but I knew it would sound crazy to call her on it. She was only being “helpful,” after all.
I hoped we could just move on from it. Just a minute ago, Viv had seemed so excited to show us the mushroom logs she had going at the edge of the woods. But now, she stood just ahead of us in this crowded row of crops, her gaze shifting hesitantly between the two of us. “Is everything alright?”
“Hmmm? Yep.” I swallowed, failing to calm the flush on my cheeks. In an instant, I felt like I was a little kid again standing in front of a disappointed parent.
Half right on that one.
Dom shifted on her heels in front of me, cutting off Viv’s view of my reddening face with her broad shoulders. “Never been better.”
I wanted to kick her. It would be so easy to knock her knee from under her and send her tumbling into the crops.
It would serve her right for the silent torture she was putting me through, the constant up and down and tension. That was the part I resented the most: how subtle and unnamable the suffering was.
But assaulting her daughter didn’t seem like the type of thing that would please Viv. Just the energy between us, try as we might to hide it, was enough to make her eyes narrow. The fact that she was already picking up on the hostility made my blood pressure spike.
We’d only just gotten there, and I was already worried about offending our host. But there was no real way to get ahead of it, either. How could I tell her what a colossal cunt her daughter was without ruffling some feathers?
So instead, I swallowed hard and tried to school my face, nodding my agreement with Dom. “Sorry if I seem off. Just a little jet-lagged.”
Viv studied me for a second longer before nodding. “You don’t want to fall asleep until it gets dark here. It’ll only make the jetlag worse. Come, let me show you the wild asparagus growing over on the west side of the yard.”
As we followed her, I let Dom take the lead — on walking, on questions, on everything, really. I had gotten myself into enough trouble while barely opening my mouth. So maybe if I could just fade into the background for a little while longer, it would be fine.
Eventually, the two chicken-brains gave up on their ‘training exercises’ and joined us for the end of our tour.
Viv chuckled at the sight of them covered from head to toe in mud. “Catch any?”
“Not tonight,” Spencer smirked. “But give me a good night of sleep, and they’ll have no idea what hit ‘em.”
She raised her brow. “Just try not to hit ‘em too hard. And maybe hose off before you muddy up the guest room, yeah?”
With assurances that they’d clean up, Vivienne led the way back to the porch. My lovers flanked me as we followed behind Dom and Vivienne, providing a much needed barrier between my torturer and I.
“Whaddaya think, Bunny?” Spencer sidled up beside me with a grin. “Into the fieldhand musk?”
“Is musk what we’re calling that filth?” I smirked.
Leo looped her arm over my shoulders. “She’s only so ‘musky’ because she kept eating shit in the pen. Which means that I win.”
“Nuh-uh!” Spencer wheeled one Leo. “The deal was whoever caught one, and I got closer!”
“Closer to the ground, maybe,” Leo scoffed.
“What’s the prize?” I asked, surprised by the sudden disagreement.
“You, Princess,” Leo grumbled, squeezing me closer to her side. “Sharing the bed, I mean.”
“I’m not sleeping on the floor!” Spencer pouted. “I’ll rematch you right now.”
“Who said anything about sleeping on the floor?” Viv furrowed her brow, coming to a halt on the porch steps. Apparently, Spencer’s whining had drawn her attention.
“Sorry, ma’am. Spencer’s just feeling like a bit of a sore loser. Nothing to worry about.”
“The beds should be big enough to share if you double up, but if you’re not comfortable...”
“No, no, we’re okay.” Spencer scratched the back of her neck, scrambling to get Viv’s attention off of her. “We’ll work it out. Swap who shares with Kiera or something. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than Dom’s expression crumpled into a pointed glare. And it didn’t take long for Viv to piece together exactly what was going on.
“Dom.” Viv turned to face her daughter. “Who is bunking in your room tonight?”
Dom glared at Spencer and Leo, but they quickly raised their hands in a clear gesture of your mom, your problem.
So with no way out of it, Dom cleared her throat and faced down her mother’s stern scowl. “The three of them wanted to share, so I’m… sleeping alone.”