Wayward Sons: Family Business by Melody Rose

Author:Melody Rose [Rose, Melody]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-05-02T16:00:00+00:00

17

Dan

I stared at the brass number that was crookedly nailed to Kennedy’s door for what felt like millennia. It was late, or late-but-early considering our fucked up sleep schedule, but the adrenaline and events of the night had left me restless. Seeing Kennedy in that situation had affected me more emotionally than I could have expected and dredged up my own prior traumas. I knew what it was like to have a demon clawing around inside your head. That kind of thing wasn’t something that could just be soothed away by some alcohol and good vibes.

I sucked in a steadying breath and mustered up the courage to tap my knuckles gently against her door. The brass number jumped a little, then swung down so that the six turned into a nine. God, I wished we could budget for nicer hotels. This had been the first one we’d come across as we fled the swamp, and we were lucky to find anything before we all collapsed under the early morning sun. Still, it was a real shithole.

She answered the door, and judging by the alertness in her eyes, she hadn’t had any luck getting to sleep either. I was so used to seeing her in her everyday leggings, sweatshirts, long-sleeve tees, and boots that seeing her in her sleep clothes felt exhilarating and intimate at the same time. It wasn’t even anything that risque, just a pair of soft black boy shorts that hugged the curves of her tight, athletic ass and a loose tee that hung off of her shoulder. As I gazed at her, she tugged the tee back up over the smooth, creamy curve of her shoulder, and I noticed that there wasn’t a bra strap under there. I forced my eyes to fix on her face. If she didn’t have a bra on under that soft shirt, I was doomed.

My mouth felt dry. “Kennedy, I wanted to talk.”

Her pleasant brow furrowed with concern. “About what? Did something happen?”

I raked a hand through my long, dark hair and hastily shook my head. “No, nothing like that. I want to talk about earlier. I-I can’t stop thinking about that demon possessing you.”

She winced. “Um, Dan, I’m glad you want to talk about it, but I don’t really feel like rehashing one of the most terrifying moments of my life at seven in the morning.”

She was right. It was stupid of me to assume that everyone was like me. I couldn’t help reopening old wounds and pouring salt into them. James always said one of my biggest problems was how much I wanted to talk. Not everyone wanted to dissect every iota of their grief like I did. James and I had grieved our father completely differently, and I still poked and prodded him about his feelings until he snapped.

I whistled low. “You’re right. Shit, I’m sorry. I just… I know how I felt when I was possessed, and I thought maybe you could use a supportive shoulder or something.”

Her eyes softened, and she gave me a once over.

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