Mercedes
CHECKING MY REFLECTION in the bathroom mirror, I nodded in approval.
The job I had managed to snag at a coffee house on the pier required the female staff wear a black, tight-fitted skirt and fitted white shirt.
Thankfully, they supplied the uniform, and although I didn’t own a decent pair of black shoes, the manager had assured me my black Converse were fine.
When I popped in last week and handed my resume to the insanely hot manager, he’d hired me on the spot. He told me to be in bright and early the following Monday.
Grabbing my backpack off my bed, I headed out, feeling both nervous and excited about my first day at a new job.
When I reached the bottom of the staircase, I headed straight for the kitchen, ready to go for what had to be round thirty with my darling stepbrother.
I’d been living here two weeks now and it was becoming glaringly obvious that Rourke Owens and I would never be able to stomach being in the same room together for longer than five minutes at a time, much less hold down a civilized conversation.
He hated my guts which was perfectly fine by me since I despised the ground the big dick walked on. In the days that had passed since our altercation at the beach, we had clashed on several more issues.
Rourke played music ridiculously loud at night. Our parents didn’t care. They never once told him to stop or rein in the debauchery. Once I learned that Amelia’s bedroom was on the ground floor, and our parent’s room took up the entire third floor, I realized these late-night shenanigans were for my benefit.
Of course, I drowned out his shitty rock music by blaring my favorite television show on Netflix at the very maximum my flat screen was capable of projecting. To which I was rewarded with some sort of ball being banged against my wall for a solid thirty minutes so hard that it caused the TV to fall off the wall stand it was mounted to and crash to the floor.
I returned the gesture by picking up said television and stalking into the enemy’s territory and casually dropping it on his head. Lucky for him, it was a flimsy flat screen, because the way he made me feel it could have just as well been a cement block.
Asshole.
To my absolute delight, the kitchen was void of all traces of Rourke Owens when I walked inside. Immediately, my mood brightened to the point I was borderline smiling when I poured myself a cup of coffee.
“Good morning, Mercedes,” Gabe’s voice filled the room. “You look… dare I say, happy?”
Damn…
“I was,” I muttered under my breath before slugging back a mouthful of coffee.
“Hmm?” Gabe asked as he poured himself a coffee. “Did you say something?”
“Nope.” I watched my stepfather as he prepared his drink. Gabe was extremely handsome for a man in his mid-forties, with a strong physical physique and a full head of dark hair that only bore the slightest slither of silver. His looks alone made me suspicious.
From what I’d seen growing up, men that looked like Gabriel Owens were rarely monogamous. Mom had moved from man to man my whole life.
My earliest childhood memory consisted of me sitting in the back of my mother’s space wagon, with everything we owned loaded inside, waving goodbye to the man I’d later come to learn wasn’t my father, but had been a good fit at the time.
My mother may be impulsive and drawn to his lifestyle, but her heart was in this guy. I didn’t want to see it get broken. Not now there was a baby involved.
“Rourke left for football practice a few minutes ago,” he offered. “He was dropping Amelia to the King’s place on his way. You just missed them.”
Thank god! “That’s a shame.”
“Your mom’s staying in bed for a little while longer.” Gabe smiled knowingly as he disposed of his spoon in the sink. “Morning sickness.”
“Oh joy.” Placing my mug in the sink, I wiped the corner of my mouth with my finger and flashed a false smile. “So. Will I do, Daddy?”
Gabe flushed bright red. “Let’s not.”
“What?” I feigned innocence, while enjoying making the man squirm.
“Just stick to Gabe, okay?” he muttered before taking a sip from his mug. “And you look perfectly fine.” He frowned as I sauntered out of the kitchen, blue eyes raking over me once more in obvious disproval. “Perhaps a longer skirt?”
“It’s the uniform,” I called out as I headed outside to my car, thankful to have scored myself a job so quickly.
Rourke
“WE COULD TAKE THE boat out at the end of the month. I’m tied up with work until the last week of August, but after that, I’m all yours. We could make a honeymoon out of it. What do you think?”
“Oh, Gabe! That sounds wonderful.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart, and besides; we haven’t had a proper honeymoon yet.”
“But the children?”
“Sweetheart, Rourke and Mercedes are both seventeen. Amelia’s fifteen. I would hardly call them children...”
Slamming the front door loud enough so they would hear me coming, I stalked into the kitchen, ignoring my father and his latest squeeze as I went.
“Hello, Rourke,” Blondie chirped out with a fake as fuck smile.
I grunted in acknowledgment. It was the best I could do. I didn’t like Cassidy James, and her trying to be nice to me only irritated me further. Besides, she was sitting on my father’s lap; that alone was enough to make me hurl.
“Where were you, Rourke?” Dad demanded then, wrapping an arm around his tiny wife. “It’s almost midnight.”
“Running,” I shot back as I scoured the fridge for something to eat. My gaze landed on a cellophane wrapped plate of chicken legs. I smirked to myself as I retrieved the plate and quickly disposed of the wrapping. Our housekeeper, Fran, was good like that; she always tucked away protein crammed meals for me during training season.
Tearing into one of the legs, I ignored my Dad when he said, “Running? At this time of night?” choosing to answer the calling of my stomach instead. It was only when he said, “I was worried about you,” that I deemed it appropriate to respond. And only then it was with a snort. Fucker wasn’t worried about me.
Shaking my head, I walked over to the sink and picked up the last remaining chicken leg before tossing the grease stained plate inside. “Where’s Millie?”
“Your sister’s in bed,” Dad replied. “Which is where you should be.”
Turning to face him, I leaned against the counter and cocked a brow. “Where I should be?” Did he think I was ten years old again? The sound of a car engine outside distracted me and I glowered when I realized who said car belonged to.
“Mercy’s home from work,” Cassidy chirped with a glimmer of relief in her eyes. “Thank god.” She turned to my dad and smiled. “I was so worried about her being out this late.”
My brows shot up in surprise. I thought Step Mommy didn’t care about anything except my father’s money, but nope. Looked like she had a soft spot for Six.
“I told you she’d be fine, sweetheart,” Dad said, soothing his little doll. “Although, there really is no need for Mercedes to be working. School is right around the corner. She should be spending her last few weeks of freedom enjoying herself.”
“Try telling her that,” Cassidy shot back in a weary tone. “My daughter is ferociously stubborn, Gabe.”
“Yeah.” Dad smirked at me. “I have a son with that same problem.”
The door of the kitchen opened inwards then and in walked my living nightmare looking like my walking dream.
Goddammit.
“What’s going on?” Narrowed grey eyes landed on my face for the briefest of moments before returning to our parents. “Mom?” Dropping her backpack on a chair, Six sauntered past me, not giving me the time of day, and headed straight for the fridge. “What are you doing up so late?”
The white t-shirt with Madame Jory’s logo and tight, black mini skirt did nothing to hide that fucking fabulous figure I knew was underneath her clothes and immediately I was burning mad at her. For being here. For being so fucking sexy. For representing a bad fucking memory…
“I was waiting for you to get in before I went to bed,” Cassidy replied, smiling. “How did your first day go?”
Retrieving a can of coke from the fridge, Six slammed the door shut with her hip and leaned against the fridge. “It was fine.” Snapping open the can, she took a long swig before sighing. “We were doing inventory and stock take after closing tonight so I’m a little tired.”
Dad frowned. “Mercedes, you know you don’t have to –”
“I want to work, Gabe,” Six shot back, casting a warning glare at my father.
I smirked at the sight of this tiny, five feet nothing girl giving my father hell. Dad loved being in charge. His controlling nature and attention to detail were what made him such a success in the business world. A property developer, my father had made a steady fortune – on top of my mother’s already established business – throughout the United States by buying up derelict homes and apartment buildings before turning them around and selling them at a major profit. Watching Six shut him down over something as lame as a part time job in a coffee house made me ridiculously happy and, if I didn’t hate her so much, I’d be sort of proud. But then I remembered that I did hate her, and my smirk transformed into a grimace.
“Maybe you should roll out a pay-your-own-way rule with your kids,” Six added, casting a glare in my direction. “A part-time job never killed anyone.”
I smirked at her obvious dig.
I had a job; getting our team to state this year. That was my fucking job, and I had a lot of guys’ futures counting on me. I might not need a scholarship, my momma had left me well provided, but Bear did, and Mason, too. Fuck, I had enough in the bank and in trust funds to sit on my ass for the rest of my life if I felt inclined. Of course, I wasn’t going to do that; I had plans on following in my momma’s steps and going for a career in architecture, but Six had a fucking nerve.
This house was mine. That fridge she was leaning against? Mine. The bed she slept in every night? Also mine. She and her momma were in this house right now because I was under the legal age to live alone and my Dad couldn’t exactly abandon me. Not that he had much choice in the matter. Dad wouldn’t have shit without my mother and he knew it. The cars, the houses, the boat he talked about bringing Cass on? They were all funded from the property empire my mother built, not him. Dad’s fortune was tied up in me. I was the heir to her fortune; Dad just happened to be the one controlling the purse strings – my fucking purse strings.
Yeah, I was my father’s meal ticket and he was theirs, which meant I was unintentionally funding this fucking marriage – and every one that had come before it.
“Now that they’re both here, Gabe, we could discuss the boat trip?” Cassidy interjected, drawing me back to the present, as she looked up at my father like he hung the fucking moon.
“Yes!” Dad turned to us and smiled. “As you both know, Cass and I haven’t had much time together since the wedding.”
I snorted.
So did Six.
We both glared at each other.
“I’ve cleared my schedule so we can take a boat trip.”
“Boat?” Six frowned. “What boat? I’m not going on any boat trip.”
“Who said anything about you being invited?” I countered, unable to stop myself from snipping at her. “They don’t want you on their honeymoon, Six.”
“Rourke!”
“When I want your input, I’ll ask, Prick,” she shot back, grey eyes flashing with anger.
“Mercy!”
“Blow me.”
“Rourke!”
Turning her attention back to our parents, Six crossed her arms and asked, “When are you leaving?”
“The end of the month,” Cassidy replied.
Six’s eyes widened. “But that’s right before school starts.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve already ordered your uniform, books, and supplies. They’ll be here later this week. Everything is organized.”
“But, Mom, I really wanted you to be here.”
“Why? It’s not like you’re too young to go to school on your own?”
“Because!” Six bit down on her lip and glared. “Nothing. Forget it. It’s fine.”
“Thank you, baby,” Cass cooed. “Gabe and I really need some alone time.”
“And for how long?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a couple of weeks.”
“A couple of weeks?” Six cocked one of those finely shaped brows.
I watched in confusion. Why was this bothering her? It wasn’t like Cass or Dad spent any time at home with us. Why did she care if they left or not?
“Have you thought about your upcoming doctor’s appointments?” Six continued. “Or your morning sickness? You do realize that it could get ten times worse out on the water? Two weeks on a boat is not a good idea, Mom.”
“There’s no need to speak to me like I’m a child,” her mother shot back, turning red. “I’m the parent here, Mercedes.”
“Oh, you are?” Six shot back, feigning surprise. “Wow. Could have fooled me, Mom.”
“Mercedes! Show some respect,” Dad snapped. “Don’t speak to your mother like that.”
“Dad.” Something erupted inside of me then, something fucking strange, because I felt a burning urge to defend Six. I didn’t want to feel it, but it stung like a bitch. “Leave her alone.”
“Stay out of this, Rourke. I don’t need your help,” Six hissed at me before turning her attention to my father. “This has nothing to do with you, Gabe.”
“Your mother has everything to do with me and I won’t tolerate you speaking down to her under my roof, or telling her what to do a minute longer.”
“Telling her what to do?” Six threw her head back and laughed harshly. “Oh my god. You have no clue, do you?”
“Mercedes, please,” her mother began to interject, but Six wasn’t having it.
Eyes locked on my father, Six growled, “You might want to advertise for the position of a nanny because when that kid comes, you’re going to need one.” She laughed harshly once more. “Because your darling wife sure as hell needs some pointers and I’m not sticking around to help. I already raised myself.” Having said that, Six shoved past me and stalked out of the kitchen.
“She’s right, Gabe,” Cassidy sobbed. “I let her down. Mercedes had to grow up faster than any child should have to.” Hiccupping, she added, “No wonder she hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you, darling,” he soothed, wrapping his arms around his wife.
Shaking my head, I left the room, choosing to go check on the one person in this house that deserved my time and attention. When I reached her door, I knocked twice before slipping inside. “You okay?”
Amelia was sitting cross-legged on her bed, reading some old dog-eared paperback. “I’m fine, Rourke.” Placing the book face down on the bed, she looked up at me and smiled. “Are you?”
Immediately, I was consumed with my guilt, and every time I looked at my sister, that guilt grew. “I’m good, Mills.” I wasn’t. Not even close. But she didn’t need to worry about my bullshit. Walking over to her bed, I sank down on the edge and exhaled heavily. “Dad’s planning a trip with Barbie. Apparently they’re leaving at the end of the month on a last-minute honeymoon.” Christ, even the word made me sick. “It’s not permanent, Mills.” I dropped my head and studied my hands. “Barbie and Six being here? I’ll fix this. I promise.”
“Her name is Cassidy, Rourke, and I like her.” Amelia corrected, before crawling over to sit beside me. “And I like Mercy, too.”
I stiffened. “Tell me you’re joking.” I turned and looked at my sister. Her small, heart shaped face and blue eyes, surrounded by a halo of golden hair, burned through me, making me feel worse than normal. “You don’t mean that.” How could she? How could she sit here and offer second chances? Goddamn, my baby sister was a better person than me.
“Cass is okay, Rourke. And I really think she loves Dad,” Amelia insisted. “And Mercy? She’s about as happy to be here as you are to have her here.”
“Good,” I snapped, jaw clenched. “Maybe she’ll take the hint and fuck off.”
“Oh, really? And where is she supposed to go, Rourke?”
“Anywhere that’s not here.”
“Cassidy is the only family she has.”
“Not my problem.”
“It’s not their fault, Rourke,” my sister whispered. “And it’s not your fault either.” Leaning her head against my shoulder, she sighed sadly. “You need to stop blaming them and yourself for what he did. Hating them won’t change the past. It just makes life harder for you. I don’t want you to be bitter, Rourke.”
“I can’t, Mills,” I squeezed out. It was my fault. I didn’t protect her. I took my eye off the ball and my sister paid for it in the worst kind of way. Trust had gotten me nowhere and fast. I would not make that mistake again.