“I’m going to catch a ride to school with you,” I say with a casualness I no longer feel. For the last two weeks, Austin has had the G-wagon all to himself.
My twin’s dark brows rise at that bit of information. He’s not thrown off by my blasé attitude. “Trouble in paradise already?”
I should have known he would seize on the implication.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoff.
Mom snags my gaze and raises her brows.
I’m surprised when she says, “For the time being, pulling back is for the best.”
“Pulling back from what?” Austin questions, voice sharpening as he homes in on the cryptic statement. His narrowed gaze bounces between the two of us as his fork clatters to the empty plate. “Someone better tell me what the hell is going on around here before I lose my shit.”
“Language,” Mom snaps, straightening to her full height. If there’s one thing she can’t abide, it’s Austin’s potty mouth. Although, my twin has been swearing for years and our mother is constantly chastising him for it. Not that it’s done any good. The proverbial horse is out of the barn as far as his colorful vernacular is concerned, and it isn’t coming back anytime soon.
Austin rolls his eyes, not in the least bit cowed by her rebuke. “Then answer the question.”
When Mom presses her lips into a flat line, he pounds his fist against the table. “I’m so freaking tired of all the secrets around here!” He jerks to his feet, towering over both of us. “I thought we were done with all that BS, and now there’s more!” His angry gaze drills into Mom before shifting to me. “Is this how it’ll be from now on? Only certain people in this family will be privy to insider information?” There’s a pause. When neither of us attempt to fill the suffocating silence, he snaps, “You know what? Maybe I should have moved back to Chicago when I had the chance.”
My teeth sink into my lower lip as remorse surges through me. If it bothers me to hold back from Kingsley, it’s even worse with my brother. Before moving to Hawthorne, we never kept anything from each other. But the last six weeks have changed our relationship. Secrets have mushroomed up all around us and everyone is guilty of keeping them.
“I’m sorry, Austin.” Mom flattens both palms against the granite as if to prop herself up. As if the weight of what’s going on is slowly crushing her to the floor. “Your father and I aren’t trying to keep anything from you, it’s just…” her voice trails off as if she’s not sure how to finish the thought.
When it comes down to it, that’s exactly what they’re doing, and my brother realizes it.
Austin pins me in place with a hard-edged glare. I can’t blame him for being pissed off and hyper-sensitive about the situation. The last secret nearly splintered the four of us apart. “I don’t want to hear anymore crap. You either tell me what’s going on or I’m out of here.”
A frustrated puff of air escapes from my lungs. Ever since Dad inherited the family company and moved us to Hawthorne, there have been too many surprises simmering beneath the surface.
It shouldn’t be like this.
If Mom won’t tell Austin what’s going on, then I will.
Before I can do exactly that, Mom beats me to the punch. “Your father is trying to figure out a way to break the contract with the Rothchilds.”
Austin’s dark brows skyrocket into his hairline. “Don’t you think you should have figured that out before you bargained away my sister’s life?”
Mom’s eyes widen as her mouth gapes open. She’s not used to Austin speaking to her in such a disrespectful manner. Our relationships have changed, and not necessarily for the better. Ever since we were forced to uproot our lives, Austin has become surlier. I can’t blame him for it. The move has been especially rough on him. In Chicago, he was treated with god-like reverence as a star on the football field. Here in Hawthorne, his new teammates haven’t exactly welcomed him with open arms.
More like the opposite.
Ignoring the statement, she says in a clipped tone, “New information has come to our attention and we’re doing our due diligence by exploring it.”
My brother’s unrelenting gaze shifts to me, pinning me in place. “And you’re good with this?”
I jerk my shoulders, unwilling to say differently. It’s a complicated question. I’m doing my best to sift through my feelings and figure it out.
With a quick shake of his head, he grunts out his disgust before picking up his plate and dumping it in the sink. As he strides from the room, he barks over his shoulder, “Be ready in ten.”
Mom watches him leave before glancing at me. It’s only then that I notice the exhaustion that fills her eyes and the tiny lines bracketing her mouth. “What’s gotten into him?”