Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 109086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
I saw the capitulation in him, and rounded. Fusing my mouth with Sawyer, I breathed against her lips, “I love you.”
I felt and heard her gasp but then I ripped myself away, slammed shut the door, and pounded on it once. “Go!”
It shot out of there.
Chapter Forty-Five
Sawyer
“What the ever-loving fuck just happened?”
We drove straight to Graham and Oliver’s place, and as soon as we stumbled inside, that was what Aunt Bess exclaimed. She stopped in the middle of the living room, just a few feet from the front door, and her head was tipped as if that question was for the Almighty above.
Graham and Oliver carried Bear and Pooh into the house, immediately easing both to the floor so the two dogs could go crazy all by themselves.
Everyone else spilled inside.
I stepped to the side, dazed.
We left Jake behind. We left him behind. And Blake.
I hugged myself, wanting to ward off some of the cold that I’d been feeling since the minivan peeled out of there. We left them behind.
That wasn’t going to stop repeating in my head. It was wrong, all wrong.
Aunt Clara began moving around the brownstone, looking in the drawers and not finding whatever she needed so she moved on to the next drawer.
My mom stopped a few feet from me, her eyes worried.
The dogs were barking. Their tails wagging. They kept circling everyone.
Graham and Oliver both beelined for the liquor cabinet. They were pulling out every single bottle they had, along with the mixers. Oliver began cutting limes. Graham took a shot and grabbed some of the lime that wasn’t cut, sinking his teeth into it. He nodded emphatically, giving his husband a thumbs-up that he was cutting more slices. He made a sound, but it was muffled around the lime.
Aunt Maude came in last and stopped just inside the door. She took us all in, and shook her head, harrumphing loudly. Everyone paused in what they were doing to look her way, but she ignored us, trudging to the back door in her yellow clogs, and opened the door for the dogs. Bear and Pooh happily darted outside to do their business.
She returned, taking us all in again and shook her head again. The judgment was just rolling off her.
I snapped, fed up, “What the fuck is your problem?”
Aunt Clara and Bess both whirled my way.
My mom hissed, “Sawyer.”
Oliver and Graham paused in their drinks ministrations. A lime fell out of Graham’s mouth, plopping down on the counter.
I was done dealing with this. “Honestly. I want to know. What the fuck is your problem?” I motioned to the door. “Coming in here, having an opinion that everyone is stressed about what we just left? Who the fuck are you to judge how we should react?” She didn’t reply, but she wanted to. I saw the heat in her eyes. When she only kept that mouth shut, I rolled my eyes. “Of course you’re not going to say a thing. Why would you? It’s easier for you to be passive aggressive and say shit behind everyone else’s backs.”
She sucked in some air and shifted on her feet, her beady eyes somehow becoming beadier. “You need to watch what you say—”
That unleashed something inside of me. I didn’t even know there was still something I was holding back, but at her lecture or whatever it was, I could hear the latch being broken. The gate swung open and I was going to let frustration I held at the entire family loose on her, and I was going to enjoy it.
I opened my mouth, drew in a breath—and Graham stole the show.
He said, “She’s not wrong, Mom.”
Aunt Maude shuffled to take her son in better. “You agree with her?”
His eyes flared briefly, a shine of tears there as he grabbed an uncut lime and began to squeeze it in his hand. “She came here to meet me. Because of the rift between all of you. She wanted my help to mend this, but the way you talk to each other, it’s horrible. She didn’t know anything about me except what she learned from social media. Why is that, Mom? Is it that you don’t talk about me or that you just don’t talk to your sisters? Is it me?” He glanced at Oliver, who touched his arm, rubbing it in support. “Is it because I’m gay?”
“I—” Aunt Maude couldn’t talk. She gurgled that word out, paling.
Oliver shared a sad smile with me before looking away.
No. No!
“It had better not be because of that! Is it?”
Aunt Clara made a gargling sound before she drew upright. “It better fucking not be because of that.” She swung accusing eyes around to her sister, pinning her in place. “I mostly like women.”
Maude’s eyes were so heated. The anger was rising.
I held my breath, wanting it to keep rising. Please, please, please. She was a pressure cooker and I wanted to see her blow. Or, hell, if I were being honest, I wanted someone to blow because I had some stress. I was going to join in. A good family brawl where everything came out was the best sort of stress release. We were due. The last good one we had was the Christmas family event of 2013. That one had been a doozy.