Locke

Mason and I, we are not close, and we probably never will be.  She’s made the perfect Stepford son out of him, teaching him everything she knows—including how to hate me.  Being the heirs to our mother’s family’s oil business makes them just about the most powerful assholes in Texas.

My sperm donor of a father—Diana’s words, not mine—ran out on her two months after I was born.  Ever since, I’ve never understood the deep hate she has for me.  Hell, I was a baby.  There isn’t really much I can do about her husband running out on her.  Mason was five when I was born.  The silver spoon was still attached to his mouth, and he’s so far up my mother’s ass that I’m convinced she never cut the umbilical cord.

So I got out and away from that life.  With Mercedes’s blessing, I joined the Marines, where I’ve been in control of my own life since the fateful day I left it all behind.

Sure, I can’t give Mercy a life as glamorous as it would be if I would have stuck with Locke family tradition, gotten my Ivy League education, and started working for Locke Oil.  We live in a small, one-bedroom apartment and drive used cars, and the rock sitting on her finger is about a tenth of the size she deserves.  This might not be the life she envisioned, but I consider myself lucky to have her by my side and that she is willing to settle for less.

We’re happy and that’s all that matters.  Yeah, right, that voice of dread reminds me.  You don’t believe that—not with how she’s been so closed off lately.

“Why must we go over there, Maddox?  You hate your mother.”  Her lip comes out in a pout that makes me want to nibble on its plumpness.

“Because, baby, she made it very clear that my presence is required for whatever reason, and with my trust shares in the company being turned over to me this month, I’m not crossing her in any way.  Who knows what the troll has up her sleeve?  But I’m not chancing that she takes our money.”

Mercedes smiles at the mention of my trust.  I’ve been waiting until the shares of the company, something my grandfather made ironclad, are unlocked so that I can have my mother or brother buy me out.  I know she’s been stressed about having to pick up a second job with me leaving.  I hate that she has to work so fucking hard, but at this point, we don’t have a choice.  She doesn’t have anyone other than me.

“All right.  Will…will your brother and his horrible wife be there?”  She avoids my eyes.

I hate that she has to fear my brother’s wife.  I’ve never understood her dislike for Mason’s wife.  From what I can tell, Josephine is the polar opposite of my mother and brother.

“I’m not sure, babe.  Don’t worry about them though, yeah?”  I lift her chin and kiss her deeply before jumping off the bed, throwing her naked body over my shoulder, and taking her to the bathroom.  If we’re about to suffer through family time at the Locke mansion, then we might as well get satisfied first.

Yeah, life is pretty damn perfect.

My skin starts to crawl the second the gates open to my family estate.  I can see Mason’s shiny, black Aston Martin parked in front of the house.  Every time I see his perfectly polished car, I have to fight the urge to run my keys along the frame.  Luckily, that bastard is nowhere in sight.  God, I hate being here.

I pull my fifteen-year-old truck to a clanking stop behind his car and I feel humiliated of what I can’t give Mercedes.  She should be in the best money can buy, but here she is, pulling up to another reminder of what I failed to give her.

“Let’s get this over with, Mercy.  I’m ready to get the hell out of here already.”

She gives me a soft smile, but her eyes are telling me everything I need to know.  There’s a mixture of worry and fear dancing across the surface and something else I can’t quite name.  Shame washes over my body, but I choke it back and climb from the cab.  Once I walk over to her, I help her down before we turn to face the Queen Bitch of Texas herself.

“Well, well…if it isn’t my wayward son.  Maddox,” she bites out in way of greeting.  Her eyes are already glossed over.  I’m guessing she decided to hit the bottle early today.

“Mother.”  I have to stop myself from bowing at her feet.

“Mercedes.  Pleasure, I’m sure.”  She gives her a calculated, wicked smile before turning her attention back to me.  “Your brother is waiting for us in the study, and do hurry.  We’ve been waiting.”

“We wouldn’t want to keep your precious Mason waiting now, would we?”

She snarls before slapping me across the face.  I don’t even feel it anymore.  Years and years at the receiving end of her mental and physical abuse is enough that I can pretty much expect to be slapped a few times every time I’m in her presence.  Mercedes’s hand flinches in my hold, but I squeeze it to let her know that I’m okay.

“Don’t you dare speak about your brother that way, Maddox.  At least he is making something of himself.  He isn’t off playing G.I. Joe for some thrill.  He isn’t fucking trash.”  She gives me a few beats of her ice-cold glare, her eyes so dark brown they look black.  Just like mine.  “Eyes of the fucking devil,” she used to say to me.

“Forgive me.  I wouldn’t want to upset him, Diana.”

“You bastard.  Know your place when you’re in MY house.  I will be spoken to with respect, and so will your brother.  And try not to ruin anything while you’re here.  In fact, you should just not touch anything.  God forbid you taint our lives longer than necessary.”

I give her a tight nod before following her through the white marble maze of her house.  We reach the study and she takes a deep breath before opening the doors.

And there he is—the saint of our mother’s world.

“Well, well, Maddox.  You decided to come up from the slums to grace us today, I see.”  He laughs to himself before lifting his glass of amber-colored liquor to his lips.

His hazel eyes go to my left and I watch as he takes in all that is my Mercedes.  I want nothing more than to bash his head in for looking at her that way, but I grind my teeth and steady my breathing.  The quicker we get this over with, the better.

“Sit, Maddox,” Diana says.