Seth groans and buries his face in his hand.
Though Luke looks none too happy, he glances at Sal. “That okay with you?”
His eyes tell Sal that a single word from her and he’ll strong-arm Lacey and her plans out the door.
“It’s fine,” Sal says brightly, wanting to diffuse any argument.
But she finds herself torn between staying safe and secure on the farm and going out and seeing the city she’s lived in for the last fourteen years. Besides, she can’t hide out in the house forever. She spent too long doing that with Roy.
She smiles up at Luke. “I’ll go out. I don’t mind. It’ll be nice to see Nashville. Who knows? Maybe I’ll remember something.”
“Ain’t too bad of an idea, Luke,” Seth’s deep voice cuts in, although he looks violently ill at agreeing with Lacey. “We got that thing with Mort at noon. This way she won’t be alone.”
Sal doesn’t miss the way Luke tenses on the word alone.
“See?” Lacey’s smug smirk tells Sal she’s resisting the urge to stick out her tongue. “Don’t worry. I’ll get her back in one piece,” she promises.
Turning to Sal, Lacey picks up Sal’s breakfast and hands her the plate. “Here. Take this upstairs, eat, go change, and we’ll discuss.”
As Lacey ushers her away, Sal shoots Luke a what-the-hell grin paired with a shrug. Though he forces a smile, Luke looks sad to see her go.
Sal finds herself feeling the same way.
The minute Sal disappears up the stairs, the gloves are off. Lacey and Luke face each other. Spines stiff, faces tight.
Seth sighs and settles in to play referee. There’s no way he’s going anywhere. They’ll tear out each other’s throats.
It wasn’t always like this. Luke and Lacey were close. Once upon a time.
This Lacey—cold, worried, angry—is so far removed from the person he and Luke used to know.
Sal would barely recognize her sister. The only blessing from her memory loss.
A muscle in Luke’s jaw jumps. “You ain’t supposed to be here, Lacey. Not till Sunday.”
Lacey crosses her arms. “I couldn’t wait.”
Luke needles his brow. Normally, Seth would find his easygoing brother’s frustration funny. Make fun of him. Maybe even take Lacey’s side to rile him up. But not today. With the appearance of Lacey, Seth knows she’s upended all of Luke’s plans to get Sal adjusted, get her into therapy. Luke wanted visitors to arrive at a trickle, not a flood.
“We talked about this. We agreed—”
“No, you agreed,” Lacey bites back. “I’m here to protect her, which is more than you’ve done.” Luke pales considerably, but his eyes go as dark as a storm cloud. Lacey rattles on, oblivious. “I mean, my God, Luke. She’s so thin. She’s like a skeleton. And her hair—”
Bristling, Seth pushes off the counter. “Sal has been through some shit. So ease up and be nice.”
Turning to face him, Lacey crosses her arms. Her chin juts in defiance. “I’m always nice to Sal.”
Seth rolls his eyes. Lacey and Sal being cut from the same cloth is something he’s always been doubtful about. Lacey is a fucking cyclone from hell, Sal as steady as the sea. However, together, the two sisters were inseparable. Sal loved Lacey with a passion, and Lacey adored Sal. She was the closest thing to a mother she had.
A growl from Luke’s lips. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare say that shit out loud to her.”
Seth can tell Luke wants to pull the ripcord and unleash on Lacey. But he won’t, because every so often his eyes dart to the stairwell, worried Sal will overhear.
The last thing he’ll do is upset her. Luke would rather be run over by a steamroller.
Raking a hand through his hair, Luke paces around the kitchen. “I mean it, Lacey. She can’t have this stress in her life. The doctor’s said it ain’t good for her.”
Lacey’s lips thin and she laughs. A challenging, mocking sound. Fixing her glittery green eyes on Luke, so angry, so different than her sister’s, she says, “What about all your stress, Luke? Or have you even told her yet?”