He sighed, coming farther into the room. He was dressed casual—a Henley shirt, jeans, a ball cap. I didn’t understand the need for a ball cap, but I’d never say no to it on Kash. It made his jawline and lips so delicious. Those high cheekbones, too.

  “You weren’t wrong. I am to blame—”

  “No, you aren’t. Your grandfather is. Not you. And you’re also right. I need you to kill him. I need that, Kash. I shouldn’t, but I do, because it was my mom and—”

  He stopped me, coming forward, not stopping until he was right in front of me. He tipped my chin up so his eyes could rake over me. “I do not tell you enough how amazing you are.” His hand slid to the back of my neck, his fingers threading through my hair, and he cupped the base of my skull in the palm of his hand. “You are funny. You are courageous. You persevere. You endure. You adapt. You look for the positive. You are allowed to blame someone for losing your mother, and you are allowed to blame me. I failed.”

  “Shut up.”

  He started to say something but stopped. “What?”

  “Shut up.” I moved in, spreading my hands over his chest and then around him, and I tipped my head back even farther. We were flush against each other. “I don’t know why you came back…”

  He groaned, his thumb moving to my bottom lip. “I had to.”

  “But I’m so thankful you did. I need you. I think I need you more than ever right now.”

  “Bailey.” A sigh from him.

  Not good. I recognized that sound, and only bad news was coming on the end of it.

  I stood up, going to my tiptoes, and I looped my arms around his neck. I was ready to go full spider monkey on him if I needed to. I’d climb up his body, my legs and arms would wrap around him and become like glue. I didn’t have real glue, so I’d have to meditate that I was glue. Power of the mind. I’d be embracing it real quick if he tried to disentangle me.

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’m going to have to do another ‘shut up’ moment here, because Kash, shut it. Seriously. You came back and I’m not letting this chance get by me. You have a brother.” I gently shook him, smiling up. “A brother. That’s huge news. And a twin. What’s he like? Are we talking identical, and if we are, how identical? Why aren’t you excited about finding out about this guy? I’d be doing cartwheels. I’m pretty sure I did when I found out about my family.”

  He’d been staring at me, a lightness starting in his eyes, until I brought up the brother.

  The light went out then, and he stiffened. He reached up, taking my hands in his, and gently unclasped them from around my neck. “It’s not the same situation.”

  He took another step back.

  I tried not to be upset about the distance, but I was aching for him.

  He needed me. He just wasn’t letting himself need me right then and there.

  He shook his head, his whole face sobering. “The problem with my sibling versus yours is that I know yours are safe. They weren’t sent to break into your home and don’t have the ability to kill your loved ones.”

  I stopped short. “Your twin can do that?”

  His eyes flicked up at that, before a short laugh slipped out. “The thought of him hurting you…”

  “Hey, hey.” I went over to him, catching his hand. “Stop, okay?” First things first here. “Do you accept my apology for telling you to go away?”

  “Of course, I do. But you can say that…”

  Another squeeze to his hand. “You know that I love you, and I don’t want you to leave my side again, even though I know you have to.”

  He opened his mouth to say something.

  A third hand squeeze from me. “Just nod. We’re getting in a cycle here.”

  A rueful grin from him, but he nodded.

  We were moving forward. Blastoff.

  “You know that I know you have to go and do scary things, and I’m okay with it, but I’m going to worry about you.”

  He groaned. “I don’t want to leave your side.”

  I waved that off. “But I’m guessing you don’t want to take me with you, either?”

  “Want to? Yes. Hell yes. Can I? No. If something happened to you … I can’t risk that. Not after everything that you’ve already gone through and suffered. I would be selfish if I did.”

  I nodded. “I get that. I do. But…” Team Batt. I didn’t want Kash upset with me because of things I would be doing. “You have to understand that I can’t sit and do nothing here. Right?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you talking about your drunk night with Matt?”

  I laughed, a lightness shifting in my chest. “No. I mean there might be a situation where we could do something to help you, here, on our end, you know…”

  He gave me a dark look. “What are you planning?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing. Just if a situation happens to show itself and we can do something to help out, I want you not to worry about me. Or Matt.”

  “Matt?”

  “Or whoever might be around who can help me. You know.”

  There was a long beat of silence between us.

  Kash was studying me. I was more trying to look at him, but also not looking at him, because he could see through me and I didn’t want him to derail us from going after Quinn.

  “Bailey.”

  “Hmm?”

  “What are you planning?”

  Oh, screw it. A whole rush of air left me and I capitulated. “I have to do something. Something! I’m going crazy not doing anything. You’re off being all dark and dangerous, and well … let me help, too. Quinn is here. Her court case is happening, and we haven’t gone after Camille Story at all. You handle big and scary Calhoun and we’ll handle Quinn here. Deal?”

  I held out my hand.

  He stared at it, then at me, back to my hand, then to my face. His head tilted to the side and he raised an eyebrow. “I am not shaking on that.” A whole whoosh of disappointment flooded me. “But do what you have to do. Just don’t get in trouble, and my God, please listen to your guards. I have them on you for a reason.”

  Did he …

  Holy crap, he just did!

  “You’re okay with it then? Matt and me going after Quinn?”

  “I wouldn’t say I’m okay with it, and I’m not sure about Matt, because he likes to get arrested a lot, but…” His tone gentled. “I know that you need to help and this is your way of doing it.”

  The lightness was in full effect. I felt like I was floating on air. “Really?”

  “Really.” He closed his eyes, his face shuddering. “I cannot control you, nor do I want to, but I am terrified for your safety.”

  “I won’t take any risks that are stupid. I promise.”

  A stark look came over him as he stared at me. “Good.”

  I stared back. “Good,” I whispered. “Do you need to process having a twin?”

  He shook his head. “No, because I don’t know if he’s going to be good or harmful. For now, he just exists and that’s all. He’s a possible threat.”

  “That sounds ominous.”

  “I don’t even know his name.” He let out another soft sigh. “I need you. I need to hold you. I need to reassure myself that you’re okay. But I think for right now I need to do something normal with you.”

  I perked up at that. “Normal?” Normal was my new thing of fantasies.

  He grinned. “I could rent an entire movie theater for us. Any recent movie you’d like to see?”

  A movie? The floor just moved under me. I haven’t even thought about a movie since last May. “I’m sure there’s a new superhero one out.”

  “Done.” His grin shouldn’t be as sensual as it was, but it was, and it was sending tiny little thrills down my spine. “Popcorn?”

  Those thrills turned into tickles. “Yes, please.”

  “Chocolate candies?”

  “Now you’re making me want to jump you on the way to the movies.”

  “Oh no, no, no.” He was being slightly flirty now, a little twinkle in his eyes. “We’ll be as normal as we can be, and that means making out in the theater. I reserve time for that.”

  The tickling, thrills, and the whole floating sensation was overtaking me and I moved to him. “I’m really happy you came back even though you’re in the middle of destroying your grandfather.”

  He smiled, his eyes so tender. “I’m just glad you love me. Promise me you’ll be safe.”

  “I promise.”

  I was standing close enough to him so he tipped my head back, his lips lowering and giving me a soft kiss, before he said, “Now, change. I have a movie theater to go and buy out.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Bailey

  I wasn’t supposed to like her.

  I had seen her before. She’d been a person lurking in the background. Then she was lurking in the background when I was at the house, and, full disclosure, she was there, and she was quiet, but she wasn’t really lurking lurking. I wouldn’t have noticed if it was someone else, but the point is that she looked almost exactly like her sister, and it was her sister that I hated.

  Loathed.

  Despised.

  I’ve digressed.

  Payton. I wasn’t supposed to like her …

  But I did! Or, well, I didn’t want to stab her. She seemed nice.

  She came over and gave me a hug when she got to the house, but that was after a long look at Kash. And Kash being Kash, he watched her right back, until he finally spoke. “Hello, Payton.”

  She swallowed. “Hello, Kash. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  “Just for the night. I’m leaving soon.”

  She gave a small dip of her head before she turned to me for that hug. It was a gentle hug, too. She was soft-spoken, her head folding down a lot and her eyes looking away. She wrung her hands like it was a nervous habit.

  Marie walked into the room and she sucked in her breath, actually taking a step back. The wall was there, so she hit the wall, but I got her drift.

  And then—then!—Seraphina looked over at her, frowned, and took her hand. Seraphina was reassuring Payton, and the wall crumbled. Game over. I knew that I’d been wrong to not like this person. If Seraphina, one of the kindest people I knew, was trying to shield Payton, or at least comfort her, we were in the wrong.

  Cyclone headed over next, wrapping his arms around her legs.

  He pressed in, his head craned back so he could see her, and the brightest smile was there. Payton looked down, her entire face softened. She raised a hand up, a finger tucking a strand of Cyclone’s hair back, and then she smoothed her hand through the rest of his hair.

  He was loving it. He was living for it.

  We needed to trust these two gentle creatures.

  They were choosing her, and they were telling us something.

  Humble pie, I believe I might need to eat you.

  While she had the same wheat-gold blond hair, blue teardrop eyes, and high cheekbones as her sister, Payton looked more demure. Quinn’s face was strong, her bones were more angular. They were defined better. Payton’s face was softer, a little rounder, and her cheeks were more plush. She had slightly thinner lips.

  Quinn seemed as if she demanded attention, but Payton got it with a second glance, then a third, a fourth, and soon … who was Quinn again?

  Those were the more noticeable differences between the two, now that I was paying attention and not just insta hating. And during family dinner that night—with Peter in attendance, Marie with a pressed mouth, Theresa who kept quiet but also kept watching her mom as if expecting her to explode any second, Payton sitting at the end and laughing quietly with Cyclone and Seraphina, both of whom were so happy that they were glowing—yeah, I was starting to pay attention.

  Payton was not Quinn.

  Matt showed up at the end, sneaking into a chair on the other side of me. Kash was on my right, and Matt made sure to pat him on the arm. We’d had breakfast together and Kash had given my brother a full lecture on being smart with whatever he and I were about to do.

  Matt listened through it all, then leaned forward, plopped his elbows on the table. “Now, let’s talk about how I’m not going to be replaced by your new brother.”

  He kept his voice low so no one else could hear, but the rest of the meal was full of Matt peppering Kash with questions, Kash not answering them, and Matt then asking even more questions. By the end, Matt seemed reassured he wasn’t going to be replaced.

  Matt slumped down now, grabbing the drink Theresa just sat in front of me, and stabbed his fork into my chicken. He sipped and chewed at the same time while Peter looked up, his nose pressing in. His eyes narrowed, lingering on his oldest before he shook his head from side to side, slowly, and reached for his own wine.

  Matt watched the entire perusal and then smirked. “What’s up, Pops?” He didn’t wait a beat, his eyes sliding across the table to where Payton had stilled, half bent toward Cyclone, but biting down on her lip. Matt’s smirk widened. “Look what prodigal reject swept in with the wind.”

  Payton sucked in her breath, her eyes blinking rapidly.

  Peter instantly scowled.

  Kash glanced at me, a small frown.

  Marie was sitting with us, next to Peter, and her eyes widened. “Aye aye aye,” she muttered under her breath, making a point of looking down at her lap.

  Theresa had been returning to the kitchen, but now she paused and swung back to glare at Matt. One hand on her hip.

  Seraphina frowned, a tiny wrinkle in her forehead.

  Cyclone burst out. “You shut up, Matt!”

  Matt jerked back.

  Payton’s eyes rounded. I had a feeling that if she could’ve poofed in the air and disappeared, she would’ve.

  Everyone else was as surprised as me.

  And Cyclone was not done!

  He pounded his fist on the table, sitting up on his knees. He lifted that fist and pointed at his brother with a finger jabbing in the air. “You’re always so mean to Aunt Payton. Stop it!”

  Out of the mouths of babes …

  I swiveled my head until I was only watching Matt, the back of my head to everyone else. He seemed frozen in place until his eyes jumped and met mine. Guilt flared before he blinked, and then it was gone. His smirk remained, but it was much less, and he leaned forward. His fork was poised over his plate, just hanging from his hand. “I’m being mean, Cy?”

  Cyclone’s face got beet red and he sat back down. But his mouth was still tight and his chin jutted out. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Not always, but a lot of the times to Aunt Payton and Dad.”

  Matt’s eyes started dancing. His smirk was more a flat line, but I had the impression he was holding laughter in. “Really?” He leaned forward, placing his fork down in an exaggerated move and smiled politely. “Well, Dad. I am sorry for being mean so much of the time.” He sat back, nodding to Payton. His tone was more genuine and softer. “Payton.”

  Her mouth turned down at the corners, but she nodded back. “Matthew.”

  “I didn’t mean that in a mean way…” He winked at Cyclone. “But in a way where I was making fun of Peter Dearest, since, you know, he sent you away when the big guns came home.” His eyes darted to Marie, holding, before he leaned back in his chair. His arm came up, resting on the back of my chair, and he turned to me, his look holding on me, too.

  The back of my neck got hot. “You’re being mean to me now?”

  The smirk was back, and it was wicked. “I called you a ‘big gun.’ How is that not a compliment?”

  I opened my mouth, but Payton beat me to it, and her comment came out way softer than mine would’ve. “Because it’s not, but thank you in a backward way.” She turned to me, then Marie. “When Peter asked if I’d come back, he explained both of your concerns.” She looked from Marie to me and back. “I’m not here to disrupt anyone. I’m only here for Cyclone and Seraphina. I love both of them so much, and Peter said it’d be good if I came back. I do not condone what my sister did. If I did, I wouldn’t be able to sit here. I condemn what she did. I no longer consider her my sister.”

  Cyclone stiffened, and it was noticeable enough for everyone to look his way.

  Payton, too. “Oh, honey. You have to know that what your mother did was wrong. I can’t love her back, not until she apologizes to everyone she’s hurt because of her actions. To Bailey. Kash. Everyone she hurt. Right now”—she put her arm around Cyclone, drawing him to her side—“she doesn’t think it was wrong, what she did. That’s why you can’t see her right now, not until she gets better.”

  Seraphina frowned, but she didn’t say anything.

  Cyclone’s eyes were so big and wide, and heartbroken. My throat swelled up, seeing that last emotion, and then I heard him whisper, “Does that mean we’ll never get to see her again?”

  “Oh!” Marie’s gasp was hushed.

  I looked over. Peter seemed to be struggling himself, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down repeatedly.

  A tiny tear slipped from Seraphina, sliding down her cheek.

  Marie bundled her back to her, hugging her as both still watched Payton and Cyclone.

  The only one who seemed not affected by his whisper was Payton, but her tone was soothing and so caring. “I don’t know, bud. I hope you do. I hope I do. I don’t agree with what my sister did, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still love her. You can feel what you feel. Anger. Hurt. Love. If you miss her, you can miss her. You can do that, but she’s made some bad choices, and until she starts making better choices that don’t hurt people, we can’t go and see her.”

  “She’s not in prison.” That came from Seraphina. She was sitting straight up, her chin raised, her eyes defiant, and she was holding on to the table as if her life depended on it.

  I tensed.

  “But she should be.” Seraphina sent a furtive look to Kash, and I felt him tense beside me. She turned to Cyclone. “We should never see her again. She tried to take Bailey from us. If Kash hadn’t gotten there as fast as he did, we might not have her with us anymore. We just got a sister and then she wanted to hurt her and take her away permanently. That’s not a good person doing a bad thing. That’s a bad person doing a bad thing. And she was bad. She was mean to me, always. I was never enough!” Her voice rose. “Never good enough. Never pretty enough. I had to speak perfectly, act perfectly, think perfectly, and I hated it. I hated her! She made me drink vinegar if I messed up—”