Chapter 4
Brody
When the alarm went off at five a.m., for the first time in years, I seriously considered turning it off and rolling over. After I’d gotten wet last night saving the ungrateful heathen of a woman, my head felt thick.
A late night doesn’t justify being a loser, Brody. Get a grip and man up.
My father’s voice had become my own internal monologue. I didn’t even need him standing over me passing judgment on all my shortcomings. I could do that myself these days.
So, I got up and hit the gym. Luckily, the new house my dad had just bought in Hade Harbor had a fully equipped gym in the basement.
An hour of punishing cardio and heavy weights later, I headed to the sauna.
Sauna was followed by a dip in the cold plunge pool out the back, with views of the misty Maine coastline.
The cold burned, my muscles screamed, but I endured the pain.
Mind over matter in all things. It was the only way to live.
My body thrumming with energy, I wrapped myself in a towel and headed to my room for a shower.
Outside, I saw my father’s car sitting in the driveway.
Fantastic. That meant his new wife was probably here, about to press her unwanted attentions on us. She’d better enjoy her position while she could, because it wasn’t going to last long. I wouldn’t allow it.
I showered then got dressed quickly, knowing I didn’t have long until my father called me down to kowtow to the new mistress of the house.
Anger simmered in my blood at the sheer performance of the entire charade. My father would pretend not to be trapped by a gold digger, while the new wife would pretend to love him for his shitty personality, and I’d pretend not to hate them both.
Happy families.
Still, it wasn’t like the Sinclairs had ever been a happy family, so it made sense after all. My father was in the kitchen.
Arthur, his lifelong assistant, was making him his coffee just the way he liked it.
The new wife stood at his shoulder, watching.
“I told you, Marjory. There’s no need to make it yourself. Arthur knows how I like things,” my father called out, not turning away from the news playing on the huge flat-screen TV in the enormous kitchen-cum-living space. One of three in this unnecessarily massive house.
Cal lingered by the doors to the garden, his face unreadable.
“Ah, Brody, there you are. Come and say hello to Marjory. As of today, we’ll all be moving into this place and living like a family.”
Like a family. My father had no idea how funny he was.
I caught Cal’s eye and hid a smile at his expression. I never had to tell my brother how I felt; he always knew. That was twins for you, or maybe just siblings in general.
“Brody, it’s such a pleasure to see you again.” Marjory abandoned the coffee machine tutorial and closed in on me.
She was beautiful, I’d give my father that, and his age, which also earned him bonus points. The only thing worse than getting a new stepmom at the age of twenty-one would be if she were the same age as me.
I held my hand out to her, trying to put a barrier between us, but she gave me an awkward, one-sided hug.
She was expensively dressed and made up.
Someone used to money, though according to Arthur, she didn’t have any.
Apparently, her late husband used to, before he kicked the bucket and left his wife broke and on a mission to secure another rich husband.
And my father had fallen for it. Led around by the cock, at his age. What an embarrassment.
“Callahan.” Marjory turned to my brother, who just watched her approach with a dark glare.
“He goes by Cal,” I told her.
“Cal,” she repeated, getting close enough to pat him awkwardly on the shoulder.
Cal’s energy didn’t exactly give off hug-me vibes.
Then the doorbell rang, and Marjory let out a small yelp, cutting the tension rising in my chest.
“Oh! She’s here. Now, we’ll really be complete, all under one roof.” She fluttered around the videophone at the doorway and pressed things.
“Here, press this.” I jabbed the right combination of buttons to allow the guest in.
A figure stood at the outside gate. It was impossible to make out their face, as they were swathed in an enormous hoodie with the hood up. Still, Marjory seemed confident she knew who it was.
The gate buzzed, and the girl came inside. It had to be a girl from the way she walked, despite her oversized outfit. Something about that outfit tugged at my mind, but then my father was talking and distracted me.
“Well, only if the team is winning. To play on a losing team just isn’t the Sinclair way.”
“What?”
My father turned from Cal to me. “You brother was just talking about the Hellions team. You can both participate, as long as it’s not an embarrassment to the family name, and as long as it doesn’t take up too much of your time. Hobbies are a luxury men like us seldom have time for.”
The thought of hockey being ripped away from me had me clenching my fists.
A strange kind of anger filled me, and I watched Marjory and shoved it down, deep inside, where I stuffed the rest of my unacceptable emotions.
Yes, hockey was my release. It was the way I handled my feelings. Losing it would hurt like hell.
“They’ll win,” I told my father decisively. “Once Cal and I are on the team, we’ll make sure of it.”
“We’ll see. Now, put on a happy face and greet your new sister,” my father said.
Marjory pulled the heavy front door open.
New sister? Ah, that was right. My father’s new wife came complete with her gold-digger credentials and two kids. Two girls. Wonderful. We were clearly on our way to that happy family my father had been daydreaming about… or maybe he was just hoping for the good press.
You never knew with John Sinclair. A man his age with two adult sons didn’t look nearly as good in a magazine as a man happily married with four kids—two girls, two boys.
Life was just another PR opportunity to my father. Another chance to grow the business. His one true love.
Then Marjory was bringing her daughter into the room, and every other thought in my head fled.
It was her. The girl from the library. The girl from the pool. The one who’d fucking kissed me when I’d been trying to resuscitate her, as the rest of the HHU degenerates stood by and watched someone drown.
After pushing me off last night, she’d run away without so much as a thanks, and I hadn’t seen her again. Now, she didn’t even take her hood off as she took in her surroundings. She was in the same clothes as yesterday, now dried out and wrinkled. Where had she slept?
“Selena, meet Brody, and Callahan.” Marjory’s smile was wide to the point of pain.
“Cal,” I snapped. “He likes to be called Cal.”
Marjory’s smile slipped at my tone.
“Brody,” my father warned in an annoyed voice.
Slowly, the girl stopped gazing around the room and turned to me, taking her sweet time. I waited for the recognition to hit her. And waited.
After a good, long while, she raised one eyebrow. That was it. All the acknowledgment I was getting, apparently.
I swallowed my own anger and stuck my hand out to the girl. It was only good manners, after all, and my father was watching.
She stared at it like it was a venomous snake about to bite her.
She made no move to take it. Awkwardness crowded the air.
Jesus. This girl seemed to have as much social grace as my brother.
She didn’t shy away from looking me in the eye, however, and there was something pretty fucking irritating in her eyes.
She looked at me like she’d already judged me and found me lacking.
Like I was already a disappointment to her.
It was audacious as hell, and it pissed me off immediately.
“I’m Brody,” I told her, just as she attempted to dismiss me and turn away.
“And you’re Selena,” I prompted, wondering when the hell this rude brat was going to take the hint and play along.
We were in the social niceties stage of our resentful relationship, and she was being insufferable.
I hadn’t been wrong in my assessment of her yesterday.
She really was a little heathen with no idea of basic common etiquette.
But that was her life before she’d become a Sinclair. Now, everything would change. She’d have to adapt. From now on, she’d acknowledge me. I’d make sure of it.
She tilted her head to the side, considering me. My hand was still extended toward her.
“Yes, I know my own name, thanks.” Her voice was deep, smoky almost.
I had no fucking clue what to say to that. How did you interact with someone who felt no obligation to be polite in the slightest?
Marjory hovered between us, appearing awkward, and then burst out, “I’m so happy we’re all going to be here, living in Hade Harbor. This town is going to be so good for you boys. It’s a wonderful place to grow up.”
Her daughter soundly ignored her. She was an absolute heathen.
“I’d say we’re pretty much done with growing up, but it’s nice enough,” I said when no one spoke.
My father shot me a side-eye.
“Oh, you’re still in college! That’s not grown up, though kids always like to think they’re older than they are. Isn’t that right, John?” She looked at my father.
He watched the news for a few seconds longer and then turned to her.
“On the contrary, Brody and Cal have been adults as long as I can remember. Brody is going to take over Sinclair Industries. He never had much interest in being a kid, with that kind of future waiting for him.”
Never had much interest in being a kid. Those words sat jarringly in my chest for some reason.
Selena snorted softly, drawing my attention back to her. Was she… laughing at my father?
I studied her. I’d never met someone who would laugh at John Sinclair before. It made her a particularly unusual specimen.
She didn’t meet my eyes, studying her chipped black nail polish instead.
“Can I see my room?” she asked her mom after a moment, stepping away.