(Mis)fortune
: Chapter 8

Steady pounding woke me. I groaned and pulled the pillow over my head. It didn’t block out the noise.

“Mimi,” Liam said, shaking my shoulder. “Someone’s at the door. I think it’s Uncle Jim.”

Uncle Jim? What? I tossed aside the pillow, struggled to lift my head from the mattress, and tried to focus on Liam’s face.

Last night came back in a rush, and I groaned aloud, letting my head fall back down.

“Should I get the door?” Liam said quietly, shaking my shoulder.

Worst. Sister. Ever. I pulled my hung-over butt from bed and looked at Aden. He still slept on my other side. Thankfully, only Liam witnessed my current state. I stumbled into the kitchen and checked the clock. Six a.m. I was going to kill Jim.

I yanked open the door with a scowl and glared not at Jim but at Emmitt. In one hand, he offered two coated pills. In the other hand, he had a glass of water. He elevator-eyed me, and a slight quirk lifted his lips. I took the pain relievers without comment and swallowed them.

“I heard Liam moving around and wanted to know if he’d like to come down and eat with me.” His warm, soft voice melted my middle and brought back the memory of last night’s question and answer session that had followed Emmitt’s big reveal. I cringed.

Emmitt: “If you’re not worried about David, who are you worried about?”

Me: “Can I sleep in your shirt tonight?”

Emmitt: “Why did David keep you locked away?”

Me: “Blake told him to. I really liked when you kissed my neck even though I tried not to.”

Notable pause in questioning.

Emmitt: “Who’s Blake?”

Me: “I like you without a shirt. A lot.” Long pause. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

It could have been worse.

“I’m never drinking again,” I whispered.

Emmitt grinned. “I like your pajamas.”

I looked down at myself. I wore his t-shirt. Damn.

“We’re not on speaking terms today,” I said, meeting his eyes again.

He laughed and greeted Liam who joined us, dressed for the day.

“Send Aden down when he’s up.”

I managed another hour of sleep before Aden woke. Enough time to lose the headache. I sent Aden downstairs, jumped in the shower, and contemplated the night before.

After failing to answer Emmitt seriously, he’d carried me upstairs. I flinched as I recalled how I’d clung to him. So much for my little talk about being less than friends.

He’d opened the door and set me on my feet, then waited in the living room while I shuffled into the bathroom with his shirt. I’d sniffed it and grinned like an idiot for a moment before changing. When I’d stumbled back into the hallway, I’d hesitated. Despite the tequila, I’d realized the danger in getting too close to him again. From a good ten steps away, I’d wished him a good night. He’d grinned at me, wished me sweet dreams, and closed the door. I’d crawled into bed between the boys.

I took my time drying my hair and getting dressed. Moving slower seemed wise. When I left the apartment, the smell of cooking food hit me, and I almost gagged. I concentrated on the steps to distract myself, and my stomach settled.

At the bottom of the stairs, both apartment doors stood open. Aden’s voice came from Jim’s place so I stepped through that door.

Nana sat at the island, supervising Aden’s attempt at cutting a sausage until I walked in then her watchful gaze fell on me. She looked me over from head to toe, turned to Emmitt, and glared at him. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. Pretending not to notice, I planted a kiss atop each boy’s head.

“What do you guys want to do today?” I asked quietly. Though the headache was gone, my head still felt tender.

Jim piped up. “It’s going to be hot and humid. Can we go back to the lake?”

I nodded, not really caring. Napping on the beach didn’t seem like it had a downside.

“Michelle and I will get the groceries this time,” Emmitt said, pouring syrup over a stack of pancakes. He handed the plate to me.

I wrinkled my nose but reached for it.

“No,” Nana said. “I think you should take Jim to teach him how to shop.”

Emmitt turned back to the pan, but I caught his slight frown. I managed a forkful of pancake before my roiling stomach let me know it wouldn’t tolerate more. I discreetly slid my plate toward Jim. He took it with a wink and ate the rest in a few large bites.

Emmitt and Jim left with the truck, and while the boys changed into their suits, I helped Nana Wini pack the car.

“So are you staying?” she asked with her head in the trunk.

“It’s not like I have a choice.” It slipped out before I could stop it.

She straightened and gave me a curious look. “What do you mean?”

Handing her the towels, I shrugged. “There’s nowhere else for me to go.”

“And if there were?”

“Then, I wouldn’t have come here in the first place.” I would have headed straight to that mystery place of safety and never met Emmitt in the diner.

She nodded and put the towels in the trunk next to the blanket. “Fate has a funny way of working things. I’d like to say it does things for the best, but how can I when there is so much death and tragedy in the world. No, the best we can do is think there must be some kind of purpose to this mess.”

Words of wisdom. There had to be a reason I met Emmitt and came here. I liked thinking like that. Better than dwelling on the possibility that he was in league with Blake.

Nana and I drove the boys to the beach. They ran to the edge of the water while we carried our things to the shore. I set my armful down, and Nana spread out the blanket. Since they were content to play in the sand, I eased down onto the blanket, ready to soak up the warm sun. From her beach bag, Nana pulled out a floppy sun hat and wordlessly handed it to me. I didn’t realize how much the sun hurt my eyes, thus my head, until plopping it on.

Sighing, I laid back and closed my eyes. With the heat relaxing me, I slipped into a light doze.

A drop of something cold splashed on my stomach, startling me awake, and I sat up with a squeal. Emmitt stood over me. I squinted up at him. The sight of him glistening in the sun, without a shirt, made it hard to swallow. In his hand, he held a sweating bottle of water, the source of the drip.

He apologized with a grin, not looking very repentant. Before I could say anything, he sat behind me and handed me the water.

“Your head will start hurting again. Drink up.”

As usual, my stomach went crazy with him so close. Unable to lie back down, I accepted the bottle and eyed the water level. It didn’t reach the top. He shrugged and grinned when I arched a brow at him.

I took a few large swallows and handed him the bottle, expecting him to leave. Instead, he settled back on his elbows and looked out at the water.

Nana mumbled something I didn’t catch, stood, and joined the boys at the water’s edge.

“About last night,” Emmitt started.

“Don’t want to talk about it.” I moved over to Nana’s spot and lay back. My head hit abs, not sand. I sat up again and did a double take.

“How did you move…” I didn’t finish my question. I didn’t want to know.

“I thought after showing you what I am, you’d have more questions for me. Other than if you could wear my shirt.”

My face flushed. I tilted the hat to block his view of me and wrapped my arms around my knees. “Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.” I didn’t really have questions, just a whole ton of worry and what-ifs. Nothing I could talk about without getting into the deeper subject of me.

“Green.”

The random word caught me off guard, and I turned to look at him without thinking. “What?”

“It’s my favorite color. What’s yours?”

“If I tell you, will you let me lay down again?”

He flashed me a wide grin but didn’t answer.

“I don’t know that I have one,” I said honestly. It wasn’t anything I’d given thought to. “I like looking at the sky, though, so maybe blue.”

He moved over on the blanket. His attention stayed on the water. I drank some more, and after a few minutes of quiet, I cautiously lay back down. With the hat blocking the sun and a light breeze to keep me from getting too hot, I gradually relaxed. My breathing slowed.

Lying in the sun’s restful rays, I floated on the cusp of sleep.

“What kind of music do you like?” Emmitt asked quietly.

“I don’t remember,” I mumbled.

“Why not?” His soft voice neither lulled nor intruded on my peace.

“Blake hated the noise,” I said on an exhale and drifted away to that leg-twitching place between awake and asleep.

A gentle tug on my hair anchored me to the beach.

“Who’s Blake?”

A good question, and I wished I knew the answer. The memory of Blake’s contorting face bobbed to the surface in an ocean of memories. This time his long teeth didn’t draw my attention. Behind him, the men at the table changed in small ways, too. Hairier arms, miss-happened ears. Nothing I noticed that last night but saw easily, now. Richard’s ashen face, shaking hands, but otherwise calm presence as he sat at the table. Run as fast as you can. He’d known. Richard’s dead. This changes nothing. And Blake had killed him. Why? He had a plan. Scent you…bite him…establish a Claim.

Another memory bubbled to the surface. Emmitt leaning close as he held me still. His breath tickling my neck on an exhale. His nose gliding along my hairline, near my temple on an inhale.

I sat up abruptly. Twisting, I saw Nana reclining in the spot Emmitt had occupied when I fell asleep. Water splashed. Giggles erupted. Squinting against the glare of the reflecting sun, I spotted the other four in the water.

Nana glanced up at me.

“How long was I out?” I asked.

“About an hour. Almost time for lunch.”

I waited for my stomach to rebel at the thought of food, but it remained steady. A good sign. Digging my toes into the hot sand at the edge of the blanket, a sigh escaped. I rested my chin on my knees and watched their water play. Emmitt showed the boys how to cascade a wave of water at Jim, using his fisted hands. As he spun, the muscles on his back rippled.

“Can I ask you a question?” I asked quietly, recalling the way Emmitt had held me when he’d begged me to stay. Nana set her book down, an indication of her willingness to answer. “Do I have a scent?”

“Everyone does, dear. As unique as a fingerprint.”

I liked that she didn’t ask me what I meant. I needed to face the truth. Get the facts. Start learning. I watched Emmitt in the water.

“Why would a werewolf want to scent me?”

Emmitt’s head swiveled my direction. Instead of blocking Jim’s spray, he unflinchingly caught it on his left side. I bet he had an ear full of water. He didn’t move as he stayed intensely focused on me.

“I’d be happy to answer that question, but I need to explain more than that for you to understand. If you’re willing…”

I nodded. Liam tugged on Emmitt’s arm, encouraging him to get revenge on Jim. Emmitt turned away to rejoin the fun.

“Emmitt shared with me that he showed you who we are. People use the term werewolf, but we are more than a shape-shifting creature of the night.”

I briefly gazed down at the sand the first time she used we, having a hard time picturing her with teeth like Blake.

“We are the opposite of a person with multiple personalities. We are one personality with two bodies. Who we are doesn’t change, no matter the form we choose. However, there are benefits to each form we wear. We are faster on four legs than two, but not by much. When in our fur, we have better protection because of our teeth and claws. However, some things don’t change. Our sense of smell, hearing, and sight.

“Our sense of smell is more vital to us than our sight. We can smell an object long after it has disappeared. A scent can tell us more than we could ever see. Emotions like fear and desire can flavor a person’s usual fragrance. Through our senses, we read the world and react to it.

“Scenting is when we use our sense of smell to identify potential Mates. Their scent calls to us. It’s more than just liking the fragrance. It’s the rightness of it.” She paused for a moment and smiled kindly at me. “I’ve never had to explain this to someone who didn’t have our noses. So let me know if I’m not making sense.

“I like the smell of strawberries, but I wouldn’t want my clothes to smell like them. It’s a good smell, but not right for clothes. So, although my scent may be pleasant to several, it might not be just right for any of them. Because of the nuance between an alluring scent and the rightness of that scent, nature threw in a backup plan. It’s something we feel deep inside ourselves, like a tug in our stomach, reeling us toward the one we’re meant to be with. The scent calls us, possibly from a greater distance than we can see, but the pull cinches the deal.”

My eyes locked on Emmitt, and my stomach somersaulted as usual. Panic flared. What was Nana telling me? Emmitt continued to play with the boys, but I could tell by the cant of his head that he listened. Was he waiting for me to try to run?

Nana reached over and patted my hand.

“It’s a lot to take in, but nothing to worry about. With humans, we werewolves typically don’t feel or scent anything that would indicate we’re compatible with you. Oh, a few have tried to have relationships, but they were shallow connections that never lasted long.”

Emmitt cast a quick scowl at Nana over his shoulder before returning to the game he played with my brothers.

Nana picked up a water bottle lying in the shade of her bag and handed it to me. “Would you like me to tell you more about our kind?”

Until she mentioned the last bit about humans and werewolves not working, I’d been tying my mental running shoes, thinking my vision an inevitable outcome. Could I take more? Think of your brothers, I told myself. If I wanted to avoid the fate Blake had planned for me, I had to understand what his words had meant and why he’d forced those monthly dinners.

I nodded, took a sip of water, and tried to relax.

“Werewolves live in packs. Historically, at least as far back as we can remember, packs were small with an alpha pair leading maybe three other Mated pairs and their young. Since Charlene came to us, Emmitt and Jim’s mother, there have been several changes, which include all of the smaller packs merging into a large one. Charlene put the backbone back in our pack and brought us together by sheer determination. It’s because of her plans for pack growth that I am here with Emmitt and Jim. We are trying to establish another pack location because the main one in Canada is growing too large for the space.

“Our society is like any other in that we each have a place in it. Elders are the keepers of knowledge and peace. Pack leaders keep the peace within their own pack, but Elders keep the peace between packs. Almost all werewolves belong to a pack. However, some werewolves choose to live on their own. Those we call Forlorn. They can still hear the Elders and have the same compulsion to obey, but they follow no pack leader.”

“So Emmitt’s mom is the pack leader?” I asked trying to wrap my head around everything she’d shared.

Nana laughed softly. “Technically, no. Emmitt’s father is the leader. But Charlene influences the pack in her own right.”

I mulled over the information. General information about werewolves was helpful and none of it sounded too bad, but I didn’t see how it connected to what Blake had said the night he pinned me to the wall.

“Where in there does biting become involved?” The question slid out of my mouth before I could consider how it sounded.

Nana gave a little cough, Jim roared with laughter, and Emmitt gazed at me, looking troubled. I dropped my eyes to the sand, feeling a flush creep into my face. Apparently, biting wasn’t a polite topic of conversation for werewolves, either.

“Can I ask where these questions are coming from?” she asked after a moment.

“Just curious,” I mumbled. “Maybe we should eat lunch,” I suggested diverting the direction of our conversation.

I didn’t ask any further questions for the rest of the day even though Nana offered to continue her explanation of their race. Instead, I moved away from the water to sit in the shade of the trees that lined the beach. Humidity weighed the air, making it difficult to breathe as the day progressed.

Before the sun set, we packed up and headed back home. I insisted on dinner in our own apartment. No one liked my answer. My gaze locked briefly with Emmitt’s before I turned to go upstairs.

If werewolves and humans weren’t a thing, why had Blake’s men scented me? More to the point, why had Emmitt? I had no doubt that was what he’d done when he held me just outside of Nana’s door. Were they all just looking for a “shallow connection” with me because of my premonitions? That answer would make sense if Emmitt knew about my premonitions.

My stock market premonition struck before the boys finished breakfast. It marked the end of our second week away from Blake. So much had happened in that time yet, other than moving locations, nothing fundamental had changed. Blake still trapped me. He held me through my fear of discovery. That, and the fact that werewolves were still present in my life, kept me wary. I’d been used for my predictions for too long to trust easily.

Liam and Aden raced downstairs to bug Emmitt and Jim, and I absently followed. How could I smoothly pass along the information without being obvious?

The humidity from the day before still lingered. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I sat in the shade of the porch. Jim eyed our glistening faces and ran into town, returning with a sprinkler. The boys squealed with excitement once he explained its purpose. Another first for them.

I watched them from the porch, not feeling up to joining in the fun. Emmitt stayed close, watching me. I struggled to hide any visible sign of the worry I felt as the ticker continued to run.

Nana stepped onto the porch, making her first appearance of the day. She held her cordless phone to her ear.

“Michelle, I have my friend on the phone from last week. He wanted to thank you for your recommendation, which looks really good so far, and he wanted me to ask if you had any other advice.”

I stared at her for a moment, thinking. This was perfect, but I couldn’t just spew out the information again with Emmitt watching so closely.

“Uh, I haven’t looked at the paper, yet. If we have one, I can take a look at it. Maybe you could give your friend a call back later this afternoon?”

I hoped it would look like I had researched the information and had just been very lucky. I would have to figure out something else for the next one, though. Three in a row wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Nana nodded and disappeared inside as she conveyed the message. She came back a moment later with the paper.

The next morning, the boys excitedly ran downstairs. I had no reason not to let them terrorize the neighbors. Aden came back up a minute later crying because Jim had already left for work.

To console him, I suggested we cook for Jim. Aden perked up at the prospect. We decided on some cookies. While we measured out the flour, Nana knocked on the door.

“Good morning, Michelle. Liam mentioned he didn’t know the ABC song. Would you mind if they spent some time with me a few times a week so I can work on their alphabet with them?”

I stared at her as a horrible, sinking guilt made me shrink inside. My brothers had been denied so much. As soon as they could speak, they hadn’t left the house, and their care had fully fallen to me. Defiance on my part had meant a lockdown for all of us. When locked in our separate rooms, they went without food or contact, except for each other. David hadn’t liked kids and only tolerated them outside of their room when they kept quiet. I’d taught them basic things that applied to our caged life at the time but hadn’t thought of teaching them more.

Something must have shown on my face because Nana stepped further into the apartment, looking concerned.

“There’s nothing wrong with them not knowing the ABC’s, yet. Four and five is just the right age to start learning. I have so many of my old materials left, and, frankly, I miss working with children. I thought I would offer.”

Emmitt’s comment came back to me. Who better to teach them than a teacher? I reluctantly nodded and promised to send Aden down as soon as we finished the cookies. He felt strongly that he needed to help make them for Jim.

When he tromped downstairs a while later, I sighed. As much as they drove me nuts, they also kept me company. With nothing else to do, I lounged on the couch and read the book I’d borrowed. Their enthusiastic singing echoed down the halls as the oven warmed the apartment to unbearable. Baking cookies in summer was not a good idea.

Sweating, I tossed the book aside and changed into my swimsuit. I opened all the windows and doors to let out the heat. When I opened the French doors to the porch, a nice breeze shifted past me, and I stepped outside. Protected by the overhanging roof, shade cooled the wooden deck. I stood there for a moment letting the wind tease my skin and realized I’d found the perfect place to read.

I went back inside, took the last batch of cookies from the oven, then grabbed my book and blanket. The porch didn’t just give me a cool place to read. It also muffled the boys’ boisterous singing. I relaxed on the blanket and enjoyed the breeze.

An hour later, Emmitt stepped onto the porch from the door of the adjoining apartment. I glanced up from the book. When he saw me, he paused. He was laden with paint cans, rollers, and plastic and looked like he could use a hand.

“Let me help,” I said, jumping up. I took two of the cans from his hands and smiled up at him.

His face flushed. He swallowed hard and glanced down at what I wore.

I pretended not to notice his reaction and lifted a can. “What are you doing with all of this?”

He met my eyes again, and his voice was rough when he spoke.

“The outside needs painting, too. I thought I’d start on it while the paint dried in there.”

He gave me one last look, turned, and walked to the far corner of the porch where he set down the painting supplies.

“Is the apartment almost done?” I asked as I trailed behind him. I set the two cans next to his pile.

“I still need to work on some plumbing, but it’s close. Want to see it?” he said, looking at me once more. The flush had faded, but he was careful to maintain eye contact. The steady look made it hard to pretend I didn’t feel underdressed.

“That’s okay.”

“I could actually use your input on the colors in the bathroom. Nana bought a variety of cans on clearance, and I’m down to a yellow and a grey.”

The idea of talking about paint colors shouldn’t have caused my stomach to dip or a pink flush to spread across my skin. Yet, it did. I pushed down the jitters, resisted the urge to tug at the edges of the bikini top, and nodded.

He smiled at me. His dimple made my heart stop. He extended a hand to indicate I should lead. I turned and walked to the apartment’s porch entrance. The door led into a large, open-concept living room and kitchen. Thick, clear plastic covered the beige carpet immediately inside the door, protecting it from paint spills. White speckles already decorated it from painting the ceiling. He had painted the wall dividing the living room and kitchen from the rest of the apartment a dark brown. A warm, light brown coated the remaining walls. The main door to the apartment was located just inside the kitchen area where the beige carpet transitioned into large earth-toned tiles.

“Wow. This looks great.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he said quietly. “Let me show you the bathroom.”

He led me to the hallway where an orphaned toilet waited for installation. He stopped just outside the bathroom door.

“We can’t go in. The grout is still wet, but you can see the colors in the tile from here.”

He moved aside so I could lean against the wall and peek into the room.

In the process of leaning forward to look, I knocked over a loose piece of molding. It tipped inward toward the newly grouted floor. I didn’t even have time to wince before Emmitt snapped it out of the air, impossibly fast. The move reminded me of our differences, and a tiny bit of fear grew in the pit of my stomach as I recalled how quickly Frank had leapt over the table to claim his right to scent me first.

A shudder ran through me.

“Don’t,” Emmitt whispered hoarsely.

I turned to him, confused.

“You are the one person who will never have to fear me.”

Fear him, why would he say that? Usually, I just felt confused. Like now. The only time I felt fear around him, I’d ended up kicking him in the…

“I’m sorry I kneed you.”

He reached out and gently touched my cheek, feathering his fingertips over it from temple to jaw. My heart started to beat faster.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he murmured as he moved closer.

I glanced down at his lips. My breath hitched. I looked up, and I couldn’t think. His deep blue eyes held me in place, waiting, anticipating. His head lowered. My lips parted.

“And I’m sorry I missed it,” Jim said from the living room, startling me.

Emmitt’s hand dropped back to his side, and his eyes flicked down the hall in annoyance.

Free of the spell, I put some space between us, tried to calm my thundering heart, and peeked at the bathroom one more time.

“The yellow won’t work, but the grey might. Too bad you didn’t have a blue-grey to match the flecking in the tile.”

I kept my eyes locked on the bathroom, not wanting to explore what might be in Emmitt’s gaze. He apparently hadn’t understood my friendship speech as well as I’d hoped. He needed to be the strong one and stay away from me, because I had very little willpower when it came to him.

“Thank you,” Emmitt said.

I nodded and led the way down the hallway, thankful for Jim’s intervention.

“Why are you here, Jim?” Emmitt said before we reached the end.

“Aden mentioned something about cookies…” Jim’s words trailed off as I stepped into view. Then, he wolf-whistled.

“I regret my decision to think of you as a sister,” he said with a grin. “Nana can sure pick a suit. I think you should really wear a t-shirt over that, though.”

“Shut up, Jim,” Emmitt said flatly behind me.

I blushed and kept walking toward the porch door. Emmitt and Jim stayed behind in the apartment. I could hear their low, murmured voices as I picked up my blanket and book.

In that moment before Jim interrupted us, Emmitt had wrapped me in his spell. I’d wanted nothing more than his kiss. Nana’s comment about shallow connections rang in my ears. While the boys played school with Nana, I vowed I’d use that time to learn, too. Time to start Werewolf 101. Tomorrow.

After Nana collected the boys for their morning lessons, I grabbed a cookie and went to search out Emmitt. He wasn’t hard to replace. I followed the sound of a quick, metallic rasp outside on the porch. Paint flakes decorated the decking by our doors. Free of loose paint, the third floor of the back of the house awaited its turn at rejuvenation.

Turning the far corner, I almost ran into Emmitt and smashed the cookie between us. His quick reflexes caught me and robbed me of the cookie. Grinning, he took a bite before he offered it back.

“I actually brought it for you,” I said.

His face lost a little of its playfulness. He tilted his head, studying me with a silent question.

“Will you tell me about your family?” I reached for the nearby broom. “Please.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Everything.” I shrugged. My stomach was in knots. I wanted to know, but I didn’t.

“My dad’s side is from Canada. My mom, from the states. They met when she was pretty young. The way my dad tells it, it was love at first sight. My mom just rolls her eyes.” He grinned at me between brisk scrapes. He made quick progress, stripping the boards of paint. I struggled to keep up with him as I trailed behind with the broom.

“My dad’s brother lives in Canada with them at the Compound.”

I stopped sweeping and looked at him.

“It’s a collection of old buildings; the community I grew up in. It has been struggling for decades to support itself while keeping away from the corrupt influences of the outside world,” he said with a hint of humor.

“Corrupt?”

He quickly swiped around the window. “Some believed that humans would lead the world to devastation through their wars, pollution, and overpopulation. They thought, by withdrawing from it, they could save themselves.

“The day my mom showed up, about thirty years ago, changed the direction they’d been headed. She made them see they were hurting themselves by hiding from the truth. They’d created their own distrust by not learning about the changes they were scorning and made it harder for future generations to rejoin the world. That’s part of the reason they sent me back here to live with Nana Wini.

“The more of us who leave to learn about the world, the better it is for others when we go back and share what we learned. The money we earn doesn’t hurt, either. Part of the reason I know what I’m doing here is because I grew up helping with this kind of work back home.”

We rounded the corner, and he began scraping the front of the house. Behind us, I left neat little piles of paint chips.

“My mom started making improvements as soon as there was money, and she hasn’t stopped. People actually have beds to sleep in now.” He looked at me after he said the last piece as if he wanted to take it back.

How horrible to be so poor that there wasn’t even beds to sleep in. After Blake appeared in my life, I’d found the opulence of Richard’s house distasteful as it represented a way of life I wanted nothing to do with. Clothes, food, an exercise room. Everything had been high-end and bought at the price of my freedom. I’d run from it, willingly risking a potential future without beds, warmth, or food, to save us all from a worse fate. And poverty would have happened, if not for Emmitt.

I reined in my thoughts. “So the remodeling inside, the painting outside, you learned all this from your mom?”

He nodded, looking adorable with paint flakes dusting his hair. “Can I ask you a question now?”

Reluctantly, I nodded. I didn’t promise to answer it, though.

“Will you tell me about your stepfather?”

I sighed and stopped sweeping again, remembering how it’d been in the beginning. “It was just me and my mom until after my thirteenth birthday. She met Richard through a friend of a friend.”

“Richard?” he asked, looking puzzled.

I nodded and realized I’d never mentioned Richard by name before. “He was nice. He treated my mom well, and I think he really loved her. Then, things changed.” Things I wasn’t ready to share with Emmitt.

My premonitions had struck. I hadn’t understood what I’d been seeing and wrote it down on paper to show my mom. By that time, they had married and were expecting their first child. Richard had found the paper and known what it was. He’d been amused by what I’d written, but after seeing the accuracy of my predictions, he’d started to use them. He hadn’t demanded anything from me, just said I could give them to him when I thought of any more.

Everything had been fine for a while. We’d moved into a better house, the one in the gated community. We’d been happy. Liam was born, time passed, I went to school, had friends, went on my first parent-supervised date, and my mom got pregnant again.

I wasn’t sure how Richard got involved with Blake, but he had; and Blake had started coming to dinner. My mom had disliked him immediately. Seeing past events clearly for the first time, I understood how much Blake had truly controlled our lives. It had started with my mom’s death. An accidental death that I could now see wasn’t so accidental. Blake had killed her just as he had Richard. After she died, Richard had become Blake’s lackey.

“How did they change?” Emmitt asked quietly, watching me closely.

I’d daydreamed through half the front of the house. I shook myself and finished sweeping quickly.

“My mom died just after Aden was born,” I said softly, remembering how alone I’d felt. “Richard shut us away from the world for four years.”

Emmitt had stopped scraping and studied me closely.

“Richard. Then, who’s Blake?”

With Blake’s identity firmly glued to my secret, at least in my head, I couldn’t talk about him without everything spilling out. I didn’t want to tempt Emmitt with the power he could gain by possessing my premonitions. I didn’t want him to turn out like Blake.

“I have to check on the boys,” I said in a rush. I leaned the broom against the wall and fled.

I sequestered myself with my brothers for the rest of the day. The other occupants of the house let me be.