But since I’m proving a point to the infuriating little shit Glyndon, here we fucking go.
She remains a step behind us, getting distracted by watching the house with her inquisitive eyes.
And yes, she definitely made us stop by a shop so she could change into a floral dress, smooth her hair and makeup, and buy a gift.
“My parents taught me to never go into someone’s home empty-handed,” she said when I told her the gift was unnecessary.
A small sound of tap, tap reaches us first before a model-like woman with the shiniest blonde hair appears, coming down the stairs.
Mom’s smile is the most contagious thing I’ve ever seen. Usually, other people’s emotions don’t matter to me. Yes, I can discern them, can even understand them when their owners can’t, but I don’t give a fuck about them.
Reina Ellis Carson is the exception to that.
And now, Glyndon is, too.
Mom wraps both Gareth and me in a hug, her head resting on our shoulders. She’s shorter than us, so we have to lower ourselves to pat her back so she doesn’t have to strain, or worse, dangle between us.
No kidding, she did that once.
“I missed you so much!” She pulls back to run her hand over our bodies. “Let me look at you. Did you get taller or what? I can’t believe this. Next time, I’ll get a staircase to reach you. Ahh, my boys are back home together. I couldn’t believe it when Gareth told me earlier.”
She hugs us again and I share a look with my brother.
Here we go again.
After basically strangling us for five minutes, she finally notices Glyndon, who has tried her best to remain in the background during Mom’s welcome home ceremony.
I didn’t think it possible, but Mom’s expression brightens further. “And you are?”
“Hello. My name is Glyndon.” She offers her a wrapped present. “Thank you for having me.”
“Oh, thank you. You’re so sweet and well-mannered.” Mom accepts her present. “You’re with…”
“Me.” I wrap an arm around her waist and bring her to my side. “She’s my girl.”
“The one who got your lips bruised the other time?”
“The one and only.” It wasn’t due to making out, but I was that way because of a fight I did for her, so it counts.
“W-what?” Glyndon asks with enough awkwardness to redden her neck.
“It’s nothing.” Mom feigns innocence. “I’m so glad Killian is finally bringing someone home. I thought he’d die alone. Don’t get me wrong, I know he sleeps around, but it’s never just one person and I was worried it’d come back and bite him in the ass.”
“Mom!” I throw a questioning hand up.
“What? You know you’re allergic to monogamy. Or were before you met this beautiful young lady.” Her expression becomes serious. “If he gives you trouble, let me know and I will use my mother’s privileges to knock some sense into his head.”
“Thanks, I’ll definitely do that.”
“So you’re ganging up on me now? Traitors, both of you.”
Mom just flips her hair. “We girls have to stick up for each other, right, Glyn? Can I call you Glyn?”
“Yeah, sure. And I agree about sticking up for each other.”
“Dad.”
My good mood slowly dissipates as Gareth closes the distance to the stairs and meets Dad for a bro hug.
Sometimes, I like to think of him as my stepfather. The man who married Mom and fathered Gareth, but he doesn’t give a shit about the other man’s son—me.
Of course, it’s all imaginary, because I sure as shit did a DNA test to make sure we are, in fact, related by blood and genetics. Unfortunately, Mom loves the man too much to cheat on him.
He’s dressed in a dark gray suit that highlights his physique, even at his age. And yes, he probably was out working on a Saturday again, even though he usually thinks weekends are a sacred time for his family.
His dark hair is styled with some white peeking out at the sides. Other than that, he’s definitely aging well. Better than Grandpa, that’s for sure.
After hugging his favorite son, he nods at me. “Kill.”
I nod back. “Dad.”
“To what do we owe this visit?” he asks with little to no emotion.
I wonder if I’ll be like him when I grow up. Completely blank and cold to the point of icing the whole atmosphere.
Or maybe I’m doing it just fine at my current age.
“Didn’t you say to come over next time Gareth does?” I match his tone. “I’m over.”
“Watch it,” he warns, his voice nonnegotiable.
That’s where he’s different from Gareth. My brother either avoids or ignores my provocations, Dad doesn’t allow a single one of them.
Not even a hint of passive aggressiveness.
Mom smiles in a poor attempt to kill the tension permeating the air. “Ash, look who Kill brought over. His girlfriend.”
“Hi, I’m Glyndon,” she says with more awkwardness than when she was introducing herself to Mom. And maybe, just maybe, she can feel the tension radiating off me.
“You look familiar…” Dad trails off. “You don’t happen to be a King, do you?”
“I am.” She smiles a little, some of the tension withering away. “My dad’s name is Levi King.”
“How are you related to Aiden?”
“He’s my uncle. Well, technically, he’s Dad’s cousin, but we’ve always considered him an uncle.”
“I see.” He remains silent for a bit. “You seem like a good person, so I don’t see why you’re with my son. Unless he threatened you?”
“Asher!” Mom’s cheeks redden and any attempts to salvage this fucked-up family gathering fly out the window.
“You know he’s very well capable of that. I will not have an innocent girl from a prestigious family caught in his web and not do something about it.”
Gareth frowns, probably hating that I came with him. It couldn’t be because of what his role model said.
I take a step forward, ready to have the showdown Dad and I should’ve had a long time ago. I don’t even think about how Mom will be devastated. I’ll console her later.
But Glyndon clutches my hand in hers and threads our fingers together. Her voice is clear when she speaks. “He didn’t threaten me. I want to be with him, and I did have a chance to leave him when my brother intervened, but I chose not to.”
My chest tightens and I don’t know what type of feeling this is. All I know is that want to kiss the fuck out of her.
“Are you sure that’s the wisest choice?” Dad continues as if he’s grilling the opposition in court.
“Asher, enough.” Mom uses her stern voice. “It’s such a rare occurrence to have Kill home and we are not going to turn this into an argument.” She beams at Glyndon. “You guys must be tired and hungry. How about you rest while I make lunch?”
“No, please let me help.” Glyndon gives me a reassuring glance, then her fingers release mine and she leaves with Mom.
“We’ll talk later,” Dad tells me under his breath before he and Gareth follow after them.
I predicted this, but now, I’m sure.
I fucking hate home.
GLYNDON
To say the atmosphere is intense during lunch and dinner would be an understatement.
I always wondered what type of parents someone like Killian would have. I would’ve thought maybe one of them would be like him, because I read somewhere that psychopathy is genetic and, therefore, can be hereditary.
But I wouldn’t call his parents psychopathic at all. In fact, Reina—that’s what she insisted I call her—has been nothing short of lovely. She reminds me of Aunt Silver—Ava’s mother. She just has elegant extroverted energy and a natural talent for making everyone around her feel at ease.
You can see in her eyes the amount of care and absolute adoration she has for her husband and children.
It’s Mr. Carson who’s a bit reserved, but not in a cold way. I think he’s more like Gareth—there needs to be a lot of interactions before he warms up to you enough to allow you close.
During dinner, Reina asks about school and is impressed when I tell her I study art. Then, she recounts that one time she auctioned one of Mum’s paintings for a charity.
Of course she did.
Killian swiftly intervenes, as if he knows I’m getting uncomfortable, and shows her my Instagram for some of the paintings I’ve posted.
I want to hide beneath the table.
“This is…different.” She traces the rim of her wine glass while going through every post. “In a unique way. You and your mother don’t even have the same style. This is refreshing.”
I swallow a piece of meatball. “Really?”
“Yes, anyone who understands some art can see that. Though, I’m nothing more than an amateur who buys beautiful things.” She laughs.
“No, you’re right.” I release a breath. “Mum said that when I was about nine, but I didn’t listen.”
And I kept holding a secret grudge against her because I thought she didn’t pass me down the right genes.
“You are different from your brothers, Glyn. Bran is day, Lan is night. You’re more special because you’re a mixture of both.”
Those were her words and I stubbornly put them on the backburner.
I need to talk to Mum later. It’s long overdue.
“I’m glad you can finally listen,” she says. “Not like these two. They never listen to me. I should’ve had girls.”
“You’re never going to let us live down the fact that neither of us is a girl, are you?” Gareth asks.
“Well, no. Rai has the most perfect twin girls and I don’t.”
“You’re right, Mom. Kill should’ve been a girl.”
“Why not you, big bro?”
“Because you looked cute as shit in that tiny dress as a baby.”
“Mom!” Killian slams his utensils on the table. “We said we were never talking about this.”
“Talking about what?” I ask, curious as hell.
“Well, see…” Gareth starts.
“Don’t you dare,” Killian warns.
“Leave it be, Gaz.” Mr. Carson says.