Chapter 18
Luke flew home, his mind spinning. The last two hours had turned his brain to mush, and he was still reeling from all that had happened.
He had been pleased when Emmeline had messaged him to meet after work. She had wanted to meet him in Bayview, which had only pleased him further. He had thought he could show her all of his favorite spots: the hot chocolate truck, the kids playing ice hockey, the toboggan slide.
Unfortunately, he’d arrived late. He’d taken his mother, Rhea, to a doctor’s appointment, from where his brother, Farhan, was supposed to pick her up, but Farhan had gotten busy with an after-school meeting with one of his middle school students.
He would have texted Emmeline to explain all of this but, in perfect luck, his phone had died.
He had planned to explain in person, but when he rushed down to the lake, he saw Emmeline laughing with Flint of all people, which made him lose his mind.
Flint was certified terrible news; he was involved in the gang that ran the illegal dragon races.
Not only that, but a few years back, he had drugged the youngest of the Din girls at a party.
Though Luke didn’t have any sisters of his own, the Din girls were as close as he got, and the youngest, Lilliana, had hardly been eighteen at the time.
Luke didn’t care if Emmeline could take care of herself; seeing her around Flint had sent him into a panic.
Then she had the audacity to be angry with him. For someone so clever, she really could be so dense. Couldn’t she tell he was only looking after her? Trying to protect her? And why would he do that—because he cared about her, damnit. But it was like she refused to see that.
How couldn’t she understand? It should have been obvious.
Maybe he hadn’t handled the situation well, but he couldn’t think straight. Dark possibilities ran through his mind, driving him over the edge as he thought of Emmeline in danger . . . Emmeline taken advantage of . . . Emmeline hurt.
It had been impossible to keep a lid on his temper, to be around anyone for a moment longer, which was why he’d called Sharptooth.
He couldn’t speak to her—he could hardly speak now, even as he made it home. Anger beat through him and, after dismounting from Sharptooth, he stood out in the cold, catching his breath. His chimera nudged her head against Luke’s side.
“It’s alright,” he gritted out, petting Sharptooth’s head. “It’s fine.”
But it wasn’t fine. He wanted to hit something. Instead, he dug his hands into the snow. The cold helped a bit, and when his fingers became numb, he headed inside.
He had thought he would spend time with Emmeline, that things would go well, and then maybe he’d get some work done at the bookshop, but now, he didn’t have the energy for anything.
He thought of Emmeline laughing with Flint again, and he slammed the door shut with such force that it rattled on its hinges. He kicked off his shoes and threw off his coat, then stalked into the living room and collapsed onto the couch.
Closing his eyes, he pressed his temples. He had a headache, now, too. Fantastic.
“Back already?” a voice asked.
Luke opened his eyes to find his younger brother Farhan sitting on the lounge chair across from him, a mug of chai in his hand.
At twenty-eight, Farhan was two years younger than Luke.
The brothers looked alike, but Farhan’s black hair was slightly shorter than Luke’s, and while Luke stayed clean-shaven, Farhan sported a neatly trimmed beard.
Their mother was sitting on the other chair with a shawl across her shoulders.
There was an additional blanket on her lap, atop which sat her knitting.
She still hadn’t finished the sweaters she was making for the baby chimeras, Butternut and Squash, both of whom were sitting happily by Rhea’s feet, munching on biscuits.
“Yeah,” Luke replied.
“I thought you had a date or something?” Farhan continued, snagging a biscuit from the plate sitting on the table between him and Rhea. “Though I’m not really sure who has a date on a Monday evening—”
“Shut up,” Luke replied, rubbing a hand over his face. He was still feeling foul.
“Someone’s in a great mood,” Farhan said cheerily. “What, did she stand you up or something?”
“Tch, Farru, stop bothering him,” Rhea said, setting down her knitting to take a sip of chai. “Being stood up is sure to put one in a bad mood.”
Was that a hint of amusement in his mother’s voice? His family sure was great at rubbing salt in a wound.
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he said, brooding.
Rhea and Farhan exchanged a glance. “Was it Emmeline you were meeting?” Rhea asked. “I can’t imagine anyone else you would be upset over.”
“Emmeline?” Farhan repeated, shocked. “Emmeline Sterling? Dude, no wonder you’re upset she stood you up.”
Luke sighed. “You guys are seriously the worst,” he said, sitting up. He didn’t want to talk about it, but they obviously weren’t going to stop bothering him, so he might as well tell them the details they were clearly keen for. “Yes, I was supposed to meet Emmeline.”
Farhan whistled. “Good for you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Luke asked. Farhan arched a brow, looking at Luke as if he was being obtuse.
“You’ve been committed to being obsessed with her for, like, seven years,” Farhan said with a snort.
“Even Ayman and the girls know about Emmeline,” Rhea added, referencing her best friend and her three daughters. The Din girls were just as nosy and desperate for gossip as any younger sisters.
“Great.” Luke rubbed a hand over his face. “Just further the humiliation.”
“Oh, jaan, I’m sure she had a good reason not to come,” Rhea said, voice pitying.
“Yeah, quit being such a baby,” Farhan added, taking a sip of his chai. “Have a biscuit.”
“She didn’t stand me up!” Luke cried. “I saw her down by the lake. With Flint.” Even saying Flint’s name made Luke’s temper flare up again, and he scowled.
“Fucking Flint?” Farhan said, immediately upset. “No wonder you’re pissed off.” A dark expression crossed his face, both brothers matched in their dislike of him.
Even Rhea was upset by the mention of Flint. Of course, she knew what had happened all those years ago between him and Lillie.
“Yeah,” Luke huffed, stewing.
Butternut and Squash sensed Luke and Farhan’s vile moods, and the baby chimeras each bounced over to one of the brothers. Butternut fluttered his little wings until he landed in Luke’s lap, rubbing his face against Luke’s arm. Squash did the same with Farhan.
Luke released a long breath, petting the baby’s furry face. Butternut licked Luke’s hand with his little tongue, and Luke smiled. The sound of Rhea’s knitting needles filled the quiet space, until she set the needles down.
“I know,” she said. “Let’s play a round of ludo. That’ll fix your evening right up.”
Luke snorted. Despite how old they had gotten, they would always be little kids to their mom.
“Mama, come on,” Farhan said, cracking a smile. “Losing will hardly make Luke feel any better.”
“Losing?” Luke arched a brow. “If I recall properly, you’re the one who always loses.”
Farhan snorted. “Yeah, right.”
They set up the board game on a table in front of their mother, both boys sitting on the floor on either side of her as they played. It was hard to say who was trying to cheat the most, but that was half the fun.
In the end, both brothers lost, and Rhea won, but he didn’t care.
His mother was right; the game did fix his evening, though that was more from the company of his family than from the game itself.
His mother looked brighter than he’d seen her in days, her eyes wide open instead of drooping closed from fatigue.
She laughed easily, beaming at her sons.
Afterwards, he and Farhan tag-teamed dinner—creamy chicken handi with naan—and they all ate together. By then, Rhea was tired, since it was getting late. Farhan helped her up to her room.
“Don’t forget your mail, jaan,” Rhea reminded Luke from the stairs, and he grabbed the stack from the front table.
He shuffled through as he made it to his room on the ground floor. Because he still lived at home, they had sectioned this part of the house off into a kind of studio apartment with a separate outside entrance so he could still have privacy and, once he closed the door, he let out a long sigh.
Closing the door behind him with his foot, he continued rifling through the mail. There were a few junk envelopes, but then he spotted some that he knew were bills for Tempest. They were marked with a bright red OVERDUE stamp across the front, and he winced.
He swore under his breath, shuffling past them only to find more bills, these ones from the hospital for his mother.
“Today is truly the worst,” he muttered to himself. He dropped the stack of mail onto his dresser, running both hands through his hair.
Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he buried his face in his hands, closing his eyes. He focused on the rhythm of his heart, beating steadily but slowly increasing as tension seeped through him.
He had wanted to talk to Emmeline, to see if they could move forward together, but he realized now what a terrible idea that was. His entire evening had been derailed because of how she made him feel, and he didn’t need that, not right now.
He should have been focusing on his business, on pulling it out from the dire straits it was in. He needed to win that investment. He needed to take care of his mother, the way he always did.
Emmeline was his rival. He couldn’t risk forgetting that fact.