Just Between Us (The Kings)
Just Between Us: Chapter 23

It was a sick thrill,knowing our father could no longer hide behind his facade of the perfect man. He may have convinced most everyone else, but his children knew the truth. For years he had used us to not only keep up appearances, but also speak highly of him at any opportunity.

Those days were over.

In my kitchen we had plotted a way to throw our father off-kilter. I wanted to storm into his office and demand he give us answers, but Veda argued for a more delicate approach. My siblings agreed with her, and we determined our approach would be much subtler.

Admittedly, it was also sneakier and a hell of a lot more fun.

At the Sugar Bowl, I glanced at the large clock on the wall and waited anxiously for the bakery to close. My sister bid farewell to the last patron as she flipped the front sign to Closed before turning the lock.

Sylvie exhaled and leaned against the glass door. “Cass should be here any minute.”

I nodded and slid the small, empty plate away from me. I had stress-eaten an entire plate of Huck’s cinnamon-sugar Junkers, and they were already sitting like lead in my stomach.

“Hey! Sorry I’m late!” Casselyn Benton, Huck’s wife, breezed through the saloon-style doors from the kitchen and into the main bakery. She was a petite woman with long brunette hair and green eyes. Her hulking husband wasn’t far behind her and greeted me with a silent head nod. Huck was a giant teddy bear and always only a step or two behind his wife.

Cass deposited her bag next to me and hopped onto the stool. She folded her hands in her lap and grinned before cutting right to the chase. “I hear you’ve got a story for me.”

Before permanently moving to Outtatowner, Cass had been a journalist at the Chicago Daily newspaper before meeting Huck and upending her life. She seemed suited to small-town life and happy to be writing for a local paper.

I glanced at my sister, who was leaning against the window counter. Sylvie lifted her chin and asked, “What’s the one story you’ve always wanted to write?”

Cass looked between us and grinned. “That’s easy. Political corruption of elected officials.”

Huck smiled and shook his head. “I’ll get some more cookies and coffee.”

He excused himself to the kitchen, and Cass leaned in with a smirk. “But I’ll tell you, in this area there’s nothing more interesting to folks around here than the feud between the Kings and the Sullivans. So what do you got for me?”

My face twisted and I scoffed. “The feud’s all but dead.”

Cass pointed in my direction. “Exactly. People are confused. They want to know why. How. If it’s really as simple as two people falling in love.” Cass smiled at her husband as he returned to slide a coffee cup in front of her. “You know, my job was a lot easier when I could just report on the stupid pranks you used to pull on each other.”

“What if we gave you something grittier?” I asked, swiping my finger through the fallen cinnamon sugar on my plate. “An exposé of the King family.”

Interest glittered in her eyes. “Your family would do that?”

Sylvie lifted a shoulder. “Some of us. What we’re really after is you highlighting the mysterious disappearance of our mother.” Cass stared at my sister, but I could see the wheels turning. “Off the record?”

Cass dragged a finger across her heart in an X. “Cross my heart.”

Sylvie sighed. “The story we were told as children regarding our mother leaving town is simply not true. The facts we’ve recently discovered just don’t align. You would have unlimited access to each of us, including our private investigator. Everyone except for our father.”

Cass’s eyes narrowed. “Interesting. And I can report on whatever information comes to light? I won’t agree unless I can approach it in a totally unbiased way.”

I chuckled. “Interview the Sullivans for all we care. We just want the information out there . . . our only goal is for her to be publicly remembered in some way.”

Okay . . . maybe not our only goal.

Cass’s eyes softened and she rested a hand on my forearm. “I can promise that I’ll do right by your mother. She will remain the focus of the piece. I give you my word on that.”

I swallowed past the lump that had suddenly expanded in my throat.

Unable to speak, Sylvie stepped in and wrapped Cass in a hug. “Thank you.”

Casselyn slipped from her stool and picked up her coffee mug. After a sip she saluted with it. “Time to replace my husband. I’ll check in later.”

Sylvie and I watched as she swept through the saloon-style doors and disappeared into the kitchen.

My sister exhaled. “No going back now.”

I chuckled. “Dad’s going to be pissed that someone is sniffing around.”

Sylvie leaned against me and smirked. “Exactly.”

Sylvie

Cass agreed to a story. If she asks questions, please cooperate.

Whip

Roger that.

Lee

I love stories. I can tell her about the time someone filled your aunt’s swimming pool with lime Jell-O. I hear they’re still looking for whoever is responsible.

Abel

Why the hell is he still on the group chat?

Lee

Bro, your sister procreated with my brother. We’re family now.

Life wasa whole lot simpler when the Sullivans were our sworn enemies and the worst part of the week was when Dad made his rounds, shaking hands and kissing babies in town. The public fawning was gut-churning, but now things were shifting. The recent stress and having to be patient were eating me alive.

My only outlet was her.

I watched Veda as she sat across the couch from me. Our legs tangled as hers draped over mine. I absently rubbed her foot and watched as the adorable crease between her eyebrows deepened. On a small table next to her, Veda scribbled on a Post-it Note and stuck it between the pages of my aunt’s notebook.

I dug a thumb into the arch of her foot, and she hummed. Unspent energy buzzed through me. I knew she was working, but I couldn’t help but bug her . . . just a little. I wrapped my hand around her foot and massaged it.

Veda’s eyes rolled shut and her head tipped back. “That feels too good.”

I chuckled. “There’s no such thing as feeling too good.”

She tipped her phone toward me. “There is when you’re eyeballs deep in handwritten notes and trying to make sense of it all.”

“I’d like to be deep into something,” I teased. I pulled her foot to my mouth and nipped at the arch of her foot. She laughed and wiggled her toes.

“You could take a break,” I offered.

Worry flickered across her face as she teased her lower lip. “Maybe. I just . . .”

Getting shot down was a new and uncomfortable feeling that took up residence in my chest. Still, I hated the nervous look on her face even more.

I squeezed her foot and slipped out from beneath her legs. “You keep plugging away. I’m going to make you a snack.”

I hobbled toward the kitchen in my cast before she could argue. When she didn’t, I knew I’d made the right call. In the kitchen, I pulled the ingredients from the fridge and got to arranging. I sliced an apple and fanned it onto a small plate. Next to it I put a few slices of the Vlaskaas cheese she was loving lately and a handful of chocolate-covered almonds. I also poured her a glass of crisp white wine.

Veda was still scrolling and making notes when I returned. I set the small plate and wineglass on the table next to her.

She blinked up at me. “What’s this?”

I gestured toward the plate. “Something called girl dinner.” I plucked a chocolate-covered almond from the plate and popped it into my mouth. “But that’s bullshit, because who doesn’t love small-plate charcuterie?”

Veda beamed up at me. “You are too sweet.”

I winked at her and sat at the end of the couch. My fingers drummed on my knee. I was restless and bored. Typically quiet evenings made the thoughts in my head too loud, so I filled the downtime with creating content for Pulse.

Veda nibbled on a slice of cheese, and my knee bounced. I slipped my phone from my pocket and stared at the Pulse app before opening it. As expected, my inbox was flooded. I tapped it but didn’t open any messages. I wasn’t interested in hearing the disappointment of strangers on the internet. Still, knowing I had disappointed anyone sent a familiar, unwanted pang of shame through me. It was like I’d gotten in trouble at home or school again.

My content feed was no better. I was tagged in hundreds of comments on old videos asking where I’d gone and expressing their disappointment or anger. The number of subscription cancellations alone was dizzying.

I hated to admit that a part of me missed my online persona. It was empowering to show a secret side of myself that was usually so hidden from the outside world. It sounded ridiculous, even to myself, but I had helped people. Men and women alike shared how I’d unlocked some hidden part of themselves or given them the courage to ask for what they wanted with their partner. It felt good to do something right.

I glanced at Veda. Since she’d blown into my life, Pulse hadn’t held the same luster. I was slowly uncovering things about myself that were not meant to be hidden—things that could be shared with a partner you trusted and cared for.

Still, it felt like the sad end of an era. I couldn’t bring myself to outright delete the app. Not yet, at least.

A ping from my phone drew my attention. When I saw it was a direct message from MsBlackCat, my eyes flicked to a smirking Veda.

Her eyes were trained on the phone in her hands, but a grin twitched at the corner of her lush mouth. I opened the message.

MsBlackCat:Fancy seeing you here.

Mr.Right.Now: Yeah, it’s been a while.

MsBlackCat: Reliving your glory days?

I frowned at the message. I didn’t want to admit to her that a part of me did miss posting content but that a much larger part of me was so consumed with her that Pulse held little appeal anymore. It was complicated, and I didn’t have a clue how to communicate that with her.

Mr.Right.Now:Thinking I should probably scrap the whole account.

My gut soured even rereading the message. My uneasy gaze slid to Veda before looking away. It was ridiculous that we were sitting right next to each other but still communicating via the app, but somehow it felt like safer ground to have the conversation.

Veda sighed and looked at me with softness. I could feel her eyes on me, but I couldn’t look over. My shoulders slumped as I leaned my elbows on my knees and stared at the wood floor in front of me.

Quietly, Veda scooted down the couch and wrapped me in a sideways hug. Her legs wound around my waist and her head rested against my shoulder.

“You can tell me if you don’t want to stop making content.” Her voice was small but powerful.

Could I?

I wanted to believe that I could be honest with Veda, but the reality was I didn’t even really know how I felt about it. Pulse started as something fun and exciting . . . with Veda I had the real thing right in front of me, and she was more than I could have imagined.

I looked at Veda, entranced by her dark features and sharp eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her and make her think she wasn’t enough or that she was boring me in some way—that couldn’t be further from the truth. I loved that she was intense and powerful and that her quiet softness was reserved for only me. It was through her that I had realized I could actually add value to people’s lives, in my own small way, using Pulse.

I leaned into her. “All I want is you.”

She chuckled and squeezed me tighter. “You already have me.” We sat in silence for a moment, and she sighed. “I don’t love the idea of sharing you, but . . . maybe we could talk about what it looks like. Set some boundaries?”

The idea of continuing on Pulse wasn’t something I had considered a possibility, but doing so would also mean boundaries. More rules.

Fucking fantastic.

I swallowed hard and shook my head. “Nothing to talk about. As far as I’m concerned, Pulse is as good as over.”

She tilted her head, and I could see the questions buzzing in her brain.

“What is it?” I asked.

She toyed with her lip. “Why’d you do it, anyway?”

My molars ground together as I tried to figure out how to explain myself. “I was bored at work and looking for a way to fuck with Lee Sullivan. I found the app and signed him up as someone seeking a cuddle partner—even used his sister-in-law to be my reference and swore her to secrecy.”

Veda chuckled and my shoulders relaxed. “Then I was just poking around the site and saw the need for some fun, decent content. I wanted to put extra money aside. You see, Dad owns the building, and if he pulled it out from under me, rental space in a tourist town doesn’t come cheap.”

“Oh.” Veda frowned and my heart sank. When her lips pursed, I knew I was fucked. She was far too business savvy to believe that I actually needed the money.

I cleared my throat. She deserved the actual truth. “It was fun too. Validating . . . maybe? It felt good to give people something they needed. I don’t know. To be honest, I didn’t give it a lot of thought when I started.”

She softly laughed. “That’s very on-brand for you.”

I chuckled. She knew I was reckless, so of course she would understand that I hadn’t had an actual plan when I started posting content.

Restless energy crackled beneath my skin. I didn’t like sitting around and talking about things that made my skin itch.

I rubbed her arm, seeking anything that could change the subject. “Hey, come out with me. Let’s forget about work and let me show you off a little.”

Heavy silence hung between us. Veda’s arm retreated from around my waist, and she slid back to her spot at the end of the couch. “Um . . . I just really need to get a few more things done. If I don’t, at this rate I’ll never get back to my normal life.”

Veda’s laugh was nervous, and my eyes slid to her, but she was thumbing through papers and avoiding my gaze. “Rain check? But you should go. It’s totally fine!”

Her voice climbed an octave with each sentence, and I was all too aware that she was trying to spare my delicate feelings.

The sting of rejection was sharp and bitter. It was childish, but I was getting tired of hiding out in my house. I wanted to show her off—throw my arm around her and publicly claim her as mine. To be seen with her.

I stood, needing to clear my head. “If you don’t care, I think I’ll still go up to the Grudge for a few.”

“Of course.” She started gathering her notebook and Post-it Notes. “I can head home and⁠—”

“Stop.” I held my hand on her shoulder, then slid it into her soft hair. “You don’t have to go anywhere. I’ll meet Whip or Abel up there for a beer and head home. I’d like you to be here when I get back.”

“Okay.” A grin bloomed on her face, and her cheeks flushed. “I’d like that too.”

My shoulders were still bunched as she settled into the nook of the couch. I kissed the top of her head before smoothing my hand down her dark strands. I slipped on my shoes and gathered my keys before walking out the door with a pit in my stomach.

One beer turnedinto several and possibly a few shots.

I was skunk drunk.

Whip’s hand clamped on my shoulder. “You hanging in there, brother?”

I blew a raspberry with my lips and hiccuped as the room tilted.

Shit.

I cleared my throat in an attempt to seem less intoxicated, but Whip only laughed and signaled to the server. “A few waters, please.”

I shrugged his hand off my shoulder. “I’m fine.”

“Look at me.” I tried but wasn’t sure which of the three Whips to focus on. He laughed as my little sister flounced up to the table next to me.

“Hey! Where’s Veda?” MJ smiled and looked between us.

I frowned and slid her fruity cocktail toward me and sipped.

“Oh.” Whip laughed. “So that’s why you’re getting tanked?”

MJ studied my face as I scowled at my siblings. “I’m just having a good time. Quit busting my balls.”

“Gross.” MJ lifted her hands. “Please don’t talk about your balls. I have enough childhood trauma. I don’t need to think about you and your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I said, staring at the chipped wood surface of the high-top table. “God, she’s so much more.”

MJ cackled and stole her drink back. “Ha! I knew it!”

Shit. I think that last part was out loud.

MJ waggled a finger in my direction. “You’re such a softie. Do you love her?”

“You knew we were together?” I asked, dodging her question.

Whip laughed and MJ rolled her eyes. “It was so obvious. You’re always looking at her like she’s the answer to everything.”

I frowned. Because I think maybe she is.

“Don’t worry about it.” Whip slapped my back and my stomach rolled. “It happens to the best of us. My advice is to not fight it for too long. She’ll win out in the end, and you’ll just kick yourself for being a dumbass.”

My brain was fuzzy but my words tumbled out. “She won’t stay. She thinks it’s fun to peel back the layers now, but once she sees what’s underneath all this?” I gestured inarticulately at myself and then floated my hand up like a bird flying away. “She’ll smarten up.”

MJ looked at me with pity. “Maybe don’t make those decisions for her.”

I scowled at my little sister. When the hell did she grow up?

“Look.” I jabbed my finger at the wooden table. “She’s going to win at all costs. Right now she’s plotting and digging. Once all this mess with Dad gets figured out, she’ll be back to her normal life and onto the next challenge. I’m not waiting around to get fixed.”

The night was rapidly barreling downhill, and it pissed me off. I wanted to go out and have a good time, not sulk in the corner and moon over a woman who was far too good for me.

I stood and shouted above the crowd: “Let’s dance!” A group next to us whooped and hollered, and I pointed at them with a grin.

Whip tugged my arm. “Sit your big ass down. You’re not dancing with anyone.”

I flipped him the bird but planted my ass onto the stool with a thud.

“Here.” He slid a few photographs across the table. “Take those.”

The music flowed around us, but blood thrummed in my ears as I looked down at my mother’s smiling face.

MJ slid one toward her. “Oh my god.” She held up the picture for us to see. “Look how happy she is.”

Mom was holding a baby, though I couldn’t tell which one of us it was.

“Sylvie looks so much like her.” MJ ran a finger across the photograph. “Where did you get these?” she asked.

Whip thanked the server for the water and took a sip. “In the box of Mom’s stuff. There’s a bunch, but these are copies. I had an idea.”

I smoothed a photograph in my hands.

“It was Lee’s idea, actually,” Whip said. “There’s been a lot of chatter about Dad and the family around town. Murmurs like that mean only one thing . . .”

“He’ll try to save face,” MJ added.

“Exactly.” Whip grinned. “What better way to rattle him and let him know that we’re onto him than by Mom’s face popping up around town?”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Putting pictures in places he’ll see her—at the office, the house, around town, where he’ll be constantly reminded of her. He might have made Mom’s memory disappear around here, but we’ll be there to remind him.”

“Subtle, yet diabolical.” I slid off the stool, tucking the photos into the back pocket of my jeans, and swayed. “I like it.”

The music shifted to an upbeat classic rock song. I shifted but, in my cast, stumbled. My blood hummed with the buzz of too much alcohol.

“All right, fancy pants.” Whip hauled me up. “Time to go.”