Jaden (Jaded #3)

He added, his throat full of choked emotion, “There was a time when I thought about walking, and I feel horrible saying that now. She’s my sister. I have to be at her side for the rest of her life.”


“Denton.” I reached for his leg and rested my hand there. “You’re not a brother to her. You’re her parent. Wanting a vacation from that responsibility is normal, I think. Hell,” I grunted. “I don’t think I would’ve been half as nice as you. With the bitch that I can be, I would’ve kicked her to the streets and had her learn that lesson to grow up.”

Denton laughed. “Something tells me that Mena would’ve been just as fine out there.”

“Yeah.” A grin escaped me. “Your sister is tough. That’s for sure.”

“She is.” Then he shook his head and lifted a hand in a helpless gesture. “What am I doing? Worrying about my sister when I know she’s tough. She can handle anything. You’re right. Even if she goes off the rails a little, she has a spine of steel. She always has, as far back as I can remember.”

I nodded. “If you think about it, she must be doing something right. Even if the guys bark loud, I know she’s got Bryce and Corrigan scared. That must say something.”

He laughed, then tipped his head back and finished the rest of his wine. I assumed he would stop after a few sips. I didn’t think there was much left, but as he kept drinking and kept holding that bottle up, my eyebrows lifted. He drank almost half the bottle at once.

I whistled in appreciation. “Where were you when I learned to chug beer for the first time? That would’ve gotten us in trouble.”

He closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth lifted in a slight laugh. “I was here, Sheldon. Always here.” One of his eyes opened, and he peeked at me. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you were hardcore with Bryce at that moment.”

I barked out a laugh. “You’re right. That was in the beginning when we were too scared to be together. We screwed, then fought, and screwed someone else, then fought again before screwing each other. Shit. We were messed up back then.”

“No.” Denton’s eyes were still closed as his head moved from side to side, resting back against the lounger. “You were messed up. I remember it in detail. Bryce loved you and wanted you. You were the scared one.”

“Yeah.” I couldn’t hold back a grimace. “I was really dumb sometimes.”

“You were lost,” he noted, almost to himself. “Your mom’s a piece of shit, and your dad, well…” His arm lifted, gesturing to the house. Then it landed back down with a thud. “He basically abandoned you back then. Kinda nice to have him back, though, huh?”

I shrugged, turning so I was facing forward. My gaze lingered on the pool, being drawn in by the depths of it. “We’ll see on that count. The jury’s still out for now.”

“No, no.” He was shaking his head. I caught the movement from the corner of my eye. “No jury. No court talk. None of that. Your dad is here, that’s something. Our dad won’t have anything to do with us, well, with Mena. He’ll talk to me as long as I don’t bring her up. How’s that for father of the year, huh? Now that’s screwed up too. It’s no wonder my sister’s had some problems. She’s had to deal with him as a parent.”

“Yeah,” I echoed, softly. “You’re right.” And because I couldn’t help myself, the feeling of being watched was too much, I glanced up to the house.

There she was. Standing in her window on the second floor, right above where Denton had me sleeping, stood Mena. Our eyes caught and held for a second, then her hands went to the curtains, and she pulled them shut in front of her.

I had a feeling she still stood there, able to see through them, though.

I waited, holding my breath, and a moment later, a shadow moved away from the window. I’d been right. She had been watching us the whole time, but her window was shut. She couldn’t have heard us. I didn’t think so.

*

“No way in hell!”

Corrigan’s voice woke me the next morning. As I dragged myself out of bed, quickly dressing and brushing my teeth, I continued to hear his raised voice. There were others, but I couldn’t make out what was being said. When I got to the kitchen, Corrigan was standing against the wall. He was shaking his head, his jaw was clenched shut, and his arms were folded over his chest. He said again as I stopped in the doorway, “No. No way. I’m not leaving.”

“Who said you had to go?” I asked, combing my fingers through my hair. I’d thrown a shirt on and sweats, but I grimaced now as I looked down at what I was really wearing. The shirt was almost see-through so my bra was noticeable, and my pants stuck like glue to me. Then I stopped caring. I was hiding from the public. Who cares what I looked like behind these walls? I shrugged to myself and went to take a seat at the table.