Whipped (Hitched, #2)

"So the question is, what are you tired of more?"

"Your smart-ass wisdom," I joke. But he's got a point. There must be a right answer to my problems. Even if it's an answer I don't want to hear.

I tap him on the back and stand up. "Come on, let's see what your mom's up to."

He follows me up the porch. "Probably burning the lasagna again."

"Hey, be respectful. It's only happened like ten times." I smirk.

He smiles. There's more warmth to it now. He leads me inside the dimly lit house. The air is hazy and thick. Mary stirs a pot on the stove. She wipes her hands and adjusts her glasses. Her hair has streaks of grey. She hasn't dyed it. She must be busier than usual. "Lachlan, my boy, you remembered not to knock."

"Family doesn't knock." I slip off my shoes and hand Mary the groceries.

She examines them and sighs. "The organic chicken again? And I thought you were learning."

We all chuckle. I grab the chicken. "I'll bake it."

"No. You don't need to… ah, who am I kidding, it will go perfect with the tomato soup I'm making. Stick the thing in the oven." She eyes Kevin. "Is there something you're forgetting, Kevin McAllister?"

He groans. "My shoes." He walks back to the door and kicks them off.

I start on the chicken, seasoning it with pepper, while Mary mixes her soup and Kevin cuts up carrots. We eat dinner together. Under the table, Mary rubs her foot, gritting her teeth. She makes her holy shit face. "Stupid heels. Bill lowered my pay, so I'm working extra just to make the same."

I want to walk down the street to Bill's Burgers and punch Bill in the face, tell him to treat Mary better. I've considered it before, but Mary's asked me not to. Bill would fire her. And she's right, he would.

When I open my center, it will need employees. Mary will be the first. I turn to Kev. "How's school, man?"

He plays with his food. "Okay."

Mary drops her fork on the table. "Okay? What about that fight you got into? And that D in math?"

He crosses his arms. "I don't want to talk about it."

Mary shakes her head and turns to me. "He's not doing well, Lach. He—"

"I'm doing fine," interrupts Kevin.

"Kevin McAllister, you will not speak to me in that tone."

"Or what? What can you do? My life already sucks."

Mary stands up. "Go to your room, now."

Kevin clenches his fists. "Fine." He storms down the hallway. His door slams shut.

Mary shakes her head and sits down. There's sorrow on her face. "Sorry about that. We've been at each other's throats all week."

I grab her hand across the table. "Family can be like that. But as long as it's not like that all the time, I say it's worth it." It's more than I had.

Mary wipes her eyes. They're close to tears. "I'm glad Kevin has someone like you in his life. He's never had anyone but me. Not even his own father…" She dabs her eyes with a napkin. "I'm sorry. It's late. I… I need to rest." She cleans up her plates. "Finish your food before you leave. Goodnight, Lachlan."

"Goodnight."

With a final pained smile, she disappears into her room. I finish my food and do all the dishes, including ones already in the sink. My phone buzzes. I ignore it. I clean the counters and table. When I'm finished, I turn off the lights and head out. As I'm halfway out the door, Kevin emerges from his room.

He looks pale in the moonlight. "If you go on tour, you won't be around."

I nod. "Not for a year."

"You know, it's okay, if you need to go. I'll be fine. I won't screw up."

My chest feels lighter. "I know you won't. You're the smartest dude I know."

"Thanks, Lach."

"Get some sleep, Kev."

"I will."

We smile at each other, and I leave, knowing whatever I decide, Kevin will be fine, because he's like me. He sees the good in life.

The first part of my night is complete. For the second, I drive to the Wynn and meet Darrel at Sinatra's. He's been calling me the past few days. He needs a decision.

He shakes my hand as we are seated. "How are things with the center?"

"As they should be."

The waiter asks for our order. Darrel gets the steak. I get a small salad. I don't expect to be long.

Darrel smiles his bright smile. "I spoke to my associates, and we're willing to offer you half a million more. You will also regain your solos. Duke has done a feeble job." He holds out his hand. "So, what do you say, Lach? Will you tour with me again?"

Two-and-a-half million. The chance to perform. To entertain. My heart pounds at the opportunity. My palms sweat. "Before I answer, I have a question for you."

Darrel drops his hand, leans closer. "Yes?"

I gather my courage and ask the question I've pondered for years. "Why did you help me?"

He chuckles. It's so simple to him. "I was looking for young dancers. You had potential."

"So it was all about the money."

"Of course. Wasn't it about the money for you?"