Chapter 20
SAWYER
“You look like shit,” Will says when I climb out of my truck.
“Feel like it too.” I glance up at the large Colonial I grew up in.
My brother pats my shoulder. “It won’t be so bad. Last month, things were civil. It’s getting better.”
I look down as we walk up the stone pathway to the front door, not bothering to argue. The truth is, can things really be considered civil if I dissociate the whole time? Sure, it means there are no arguments that way, but civil? Not likely.
“It’s fine,” I tell him. “The way I look and feel, for once, doesn’t have anything to do with this dinner.”
Will’s hand stops halfway to the doorbell. “What is it, then?”
Scratching my jaw, I look up at the magnolia tree I used to get yelled at for climbing as a kid because it might have affected the landscaping.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Will fold his arms over his chest. We may not have seen a lot of each other growing up with our age difference, but Will and I have become close since I moved back to Blue Ridge. He can read me too well.
“It’s the Casey girl, isn’t it.”
“What is this, a period drama? Her name is Brie.”
He gives me a flat look. “Fine. It’s Brie, isn’t it.”
“What’ve you heard?” My eyes are back on the shiny green leaves. Aside from his first warning weeks ago, Will and I have managed to avoid talking about her.
“I heard you guys went out a couple weeks ago to Angelica’s . . . And that she was with you at trivia night.”
Thank fuck he doesn’t know how I acted in the teacher’s lounge this morning.
Despite feeling like shit, my lips quirk. “You mean on Tursday?”
“I’m not saying that.”
I chuckle, but he levels me with a serious expression.
“Look,” he says, “I don’t know what happened between you two when you were kids, I only heard the rumors. But tormenting Brie Casey—”
The door swings open, and Dear Old Dad stands in the doorway, his Mayor Mask perfectly in place to greet his two sons. I look at my watch, 6:31.
How much did he hear?
“You’re late,” he grumbles.
His eyes skate over us. He notes Will’s tailored shirt and pressed slacks with a slight nod before moving to me.
I’m in chinos and a button-up, sleeves rolled to my elbows.
It’s more of an effort than he deserves, but I do it for Will.
And it still doesn’t matter because Dad’s lips curl with disappointment, giving me a twisted sense of satisfaction.
He turns to walk back through the foyer, his dress shoes clicking on the marble floor as he calls over his shoulder, “Food’s ready.”
Of course it’s ready, he gets it catered.
Will squeezes my shoulder, sensing my irritation. “We’ll talk more later,” he says under his breath as we follow.
Dad insists on us using the formal dining room for these dinners, even though it seats sixteen and it’s only ever the three of us.
“You were talking about the Casey girls,” he says genially when we’ve all filled our plates.
I freeze. Will visibly winces, and I almost feel bad for him.
He doesn’t even ask for us to be one big happy family.
All he’s ever wanted is for the three of us to tolerate one another.
But it’s complicated. How my big brother endured the pressure of being the mayor’s first-born is baffling. I couldn’t do it.
When neither Will nor I answers, he goes on with a toothy smile. “Heard the middle one came back. I thought we were rid of her, down one, two to go. But now we have to start all over again.” He studies me through his glasses. “You going to run her out of town again, Son?”
Bile rises in my throat. He’s talking about Brie and her sisters like they’re a family of rabid animals in this town. Is this what he was like when he was actual Mayor? Treating whole families in his constituency like vermin?
And Brie thinks I’m just like him, I think bitterly. The Prince of Blue Ridge.
“Not if I can help it,” I grind out.
“Well, why not?” he asks with mock surprise. “I was never prouder of you than when you ran her out the first time.”
Will clears his throat. “Dad, he didn’t run her off. Brie and Sawyer were seniors. Lots of kids move after graduation.”
I know our dad is silently adding to Will’s statement. Lots of kids go to college. It’s just one item on a mile-long list that Dad can never forgive me for. Giving up a spot at his elite alma mater I was destined for in order to forge my own way. The degrees I got online are worthless in his eyes.
“Yes, well, that middle one stayed away, didn’t she? Until recently.”
I roll back my shoulders, my blood spinning in my skull.
Be civil. Don’t engage.
His sharp eyes bore into me as he sneers. “The whole town knew what you did to her during your prom. That’s why she stayed away.”
“We don’t know that, Dad,” Will says.
Dad looks like a predator. No. Worse. He looks like a scavenger. A vulture.
“Oh, but I do. You know how I know?” He doesn’t wait for an answer.
“Because I know people. You don’t stay mayor of a town like Blue Ridge for decades without understanding how people work.
Their desires, their dreams. More importantly, their fears.
” He turns to Will. “You’d do well to remember that if you want to keep your position, Son. ”
I shake my head. “You sound like a comic book villain right now.”
“Ridiculous,” he announces with a sweep of his hand.
“You’re a Strong. We’re the heroes in this town.
It’s in your blood. You lost your way, but you’ll find it again.
All you have to do is tap into that person before you left.
The one who knew people like I do. You knew how to work that girl like a puppet, didn’t you. ” His chuckle is cold.
“Are you listening to yourself right now?” I push my chair away from the table and toss my cloth napkin onto my untouched food. “This is something you’re proud of me for? Being an asshole to a teenage girl?” I lean forward, meeting his eyes. “The worst parts of me are all your doing.”
“Watch your tone.”
I laugh, standing up. “Or what? You’ll cut me off? Deny me my inheritance? Disown me? You’ve played all your cards. You have nothing left.”
“Sawyer,” Will says as I round the table.
“Sorry, Brother.”
When I leave, I don’t give my dad the satisfaction of hearing me slam the door.