Rourke
I HAD NO OTHER explanation or valid reason for putting Six in my truck, only that I wanted to stop her from crying.
I didn’t like what her tears did to me or the helpless feeling that had come over me when I realized there was nothing I could do to fix it for her.
I had no fucking clue of where I was taking her. I just knew that the both of us needed some time out from that house.
She was quiet while I drove, deep in her thoughts. Again, I didn’t like it. I wanted to know what was running through that mind of hers.
“Tell me about Britt,” she finally said when we were parked after grabbing food from the McDonald’s drive thru.
“Tell you about Britt?” Well, I hadn’t been expecting that question to come out of her mouth. I mulled over how to answer that particular shitbomb as I unwrapped my double cheeseburger.
If Coach found out I was eating this stuff, he’d throw a fit, but Six had perked up the moment the yellow M had come into sight.
“Britt is a girl,” I finally said.
That was all I was willing to say. Britt and I had a very complicated past. She was a touchy subject for me and I didn’t want to expose myself any further to the girl sitting beside me. It felt like Six already knew too much. I felt exposed around her and it fucked with my head.
“Well duh!” She took a bite of a chicken nugget and smirked. “Elaborate, please.”
“Okay. Britt is a girl I occasionally fuck.” I turned to her and smiled. “Better?”
“Not really,” she whispered, dropping her half-eaten nugget back in its box. “Yuck.”
“Yuck.” I snickered and took a bite of my burger.
“The way the guys were talking, they seemed to think there was more between you and her?”
The guys needed to mind their fucking business. Shaking my head, I muttered, “It’s just sex, Six. No biggie.”
“So, you use her?” she asked flatly. “For sex? Ugh. That’s disgusting.”
“What do you want me to say?” I shot back heatedly, unwilling to go there with her. Besides, she had no fucking clue. “You want me to make up some bullshit story and romanticize the situation? Tell you I fuck her because I love her?” I shook my head and sighed, annoyed at myself for losing my temper again.
“That would be nice,” she shot back. “It would make you sound like less of a jerk.”
I rolled my eyes. “I fuck her because she gives me what I need, when I need it.”
“Do you love her?”
It was a very good question. One I’d been asking myself for a long time now. “That’s none of your business.”
“Come on, Rourke,” Six argued, probing further into shit that had nothing to do with her. “It’s a simple question. You either love her or you don’t.”
I loved her, and she broke me, and because of her, I doubt I’ll ever trust another female again for as long as I live. “I love her pussy,” I said instead.
“You’re sick, Rourke, you know that?”
“What fucking ever, Six.” I finished my burger and rolled the paper up in a ball before tossing it into the back seat. “And trust me, it works both ways. Britt uses me, too.”
“I don’t want to hear anymore,” she muttered in a tone of disgust. “Hanging out with you was a mistake, Rourke. Just take me home.”
A mistake?
“Fine.” Cranking the engine, I tore out of the parking spot. “Fucking suit yourself.”
It was the last time I’d make an effort with her.
She could wipe her own damn tears next time.
I was done.
Mercedes
BRITT IS A GIRL I FUCK.
I willed the words Rourke had spoken not to be true even though I knew they very much were.
It hurt me, knowing he slept with other girls. It shouldn’t; it wasn’t my place to feel anything for Rourke Owens, but when it came to him, my brain seemed to click off.
Deep down inside, I had a feeling Rourke was a much better man than the one he pretended to be. But he just kept proving me wrong.
Rourke didn’t speak a word to me the entire drive back to the house. Instead, he blasted some god-awful, heavy rock music and drove like a raging lunatic.
He was mad at me. For asking questions and for being mad at him when he answered me honestly.
I was mad right back at him.
I was mad at Rourke for having this unwanted and infuriating power over my emotions.
And I was mad at him for making me care.
Rourke
“HAVE YOU THOUGHT THIS through, Dad? How are you going to time manage your work and home life once the twins are born?” My fifteen-year-old sister was in the kitchen when me and Six walked back into the house.
Amelia was giving our father a lecture on responsibility. If the situation wasn’t so sickening, I would have thought it comical.
“I’m going to bed,” Six muttered before hurrying to the staircase.
“Whatever,” I shot back, not looking at her. I was still feeling angry about the way she had dismissed me earlier. I’d been trying to cheer her up. It was the first and last fucking time I would go out of my way to help that girl.
“Amelia,” Dad sighed, rubbing his jaw with his hand. “I raised you and Rourke on my own just fine. I’m sure I can manage another two.”
I snorted.
He didn’t raise us.
Our housekeeper fucking raised us.
Our father simply funded us.
Asshole.
“Have you got something you’d like to say, Rourke?” Dad snapped, clearly hearing my reaction.
“Nope,” I replied as I walked into the kitchen and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. “Not a thing.” I wasn’t getting involved in this. Dad knew what I thought of the situation; it was a fucking mess. I wasn’t giving him an excuse to blow up on me. I didn’t need the hassle.
“I know money isn’t an issue,” Amelia continued to say, “But babies? They take up time, Dad. A lot of time.” Shrugging she added, “Have you thought about hiring someone to help you and Cass when they’re born? I presume you’ll take a couple of weeks’ paternity leave, but what happens when you go back to work? How is she supposed to cope on her own with two babies? Especially since she’ll have to have an elective C-section. Mercedes was born by emergency section, you know. That kind of surgery takes weeks to heal from.”
“Wait, what?” Dad held his hand up. “How do you even know this stuff?”
Amelia gaped at him in bewilderment. “Maybe because I ask questions and actually listen to the answers people give me.” She frowned and crossed her arms. “Come on, Dad, this is information you’re supposed to know.”
Dad looked affronted, and a little nauseous, as he stared at my sister. “Look,” he finally said. “Cass and I leave in the morning for a couple of weeks. I promise you I’ll read up on all the baby stuff then, okay?”
Seemingly mollified, Amelia nodded. “Okay. Night, Dad. I love you. Have a safe trip.”
“I love you too, sweetheart,” he called out after my sister as she retreated to her room.
“What? No I love you, Rourke?” Folding my arms across my chest, I cocked a brow and smirked. “Talk about favoritism.”
Dad smirked. “Like you would believe me if I told you.”
It would still be nice to fucking hear it,
“So, you guys are leaving tomorrow?”
Dad nodded. “First thing in the morning, and I’m counting on you to take care of your sisters while I’m gone.”
I stiffened. “She’s not my sister.” How many goddamn times…
“Fine. My wife’s daughter.” Dad waved a hand wearily. “Better?”
I nodded. It was better. Slightly.
“Fran will be popping in and out to check in on you guys while we’re away –and Sergio, too. And look, I know Mercedes has a prickly personality and you two butt heads,” Dad added slowly, obviously choosing his words carefully. “But she’s not as tough as she makes out to be.”
“She’s not?” I laughed. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“Please, Rourke.” Sighing, Dad ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Just… just look after her, okay? Make her feel welcome at school on Monday and try and keep her out of trouble? At least until me and her momma get back.”
Dad must have smoked some strong shit if he thought Six needed my protection.
Girl had steel in her veins.
“I’m not making any promises,” I finally replied. I couldn’t.
Six was uncontrollable and I lost control around her.
Together, we were a bad fucking combination.