Stepbrother Backstage (The Hawthorne Brothers Book 3) (33 page)

“Well,” Mom says, setting her wine glass down on the porch
and standing to go, “If this is the way you feel, then I’d think you’d be happy
to be rid of me. I’ll stay here with John, and take myself off your hands for
good.”

“For good? Mom, be serious,” Sophie cries, exasperated,
“You’ve had plenty of flings since dad died. How is this one any different?
You’re putting our family, our home, everything at stake for him. Please, just
take a second to consider—”

“You’ve given me plenty to consider tonight,” Mom cuts her
off. “I’ve apparently failed you as a mother, isn’t that right? You’d be better
off without me?”

“That’s not what we’re saying at all, Mom,” I tell her, a
hard knot finally beginning to form in my throat, “What I’ve wanted more than
anything else since dad died was my mother. I’ve always wanted you to be a part
of my life. Please don’t make that impossible.”

“I see,” Mom replies, looking around at all of us
disdainfully, “Well, girls. Thank you for making this decision so easy for me.
Since I’m apparently incapable of being a good mother to you, I’ll just go
ahead and bow out. Seeing as I’m
impossible
. Anna, you’re more than
welcome to stay at the Vermont house until it’s sold. Though I suggest finding
other accommodations quickly. I’m sure that property will get snatched up
quick.”  

And just like that, she turns on her heel and marches away
from us. Turning her back just like she’s done a thousand times before. I can
feel my heart straining at the fault lines where it’s already been broken—by
Dad’s death, the dissolution of our family, the distance that’s built up
between me and my beloved sisters. Even though our mother’s alive and well, I
feel like I’m about to lose her now, too. Although judging by the ease with
which she walks away from us now, maybe that already happened a long time ago.

“I just… I can’t believe her,” Sophie says, silent tears
streaming down her cheeks.

“I can,” Anna replies flatly, taking a big sip of wine, “As
far as I’m concerned, this is pretty in-character for good ol’ Robin.”

“Do you think she’ll really stay here with John?” I ask
them, heart rattling in my chest. “Maybe she’s just bluffing.”

“Now she’ll stay, just to spite us,” Sophie scoffs through
her tears. “Where do you think you got your competitive streak from, Maddie?
We’ve dared to challenge her. Now we’re the ones who are going to pay.”

I lean heavily against the chair, feeling panic growing in
the pit of my stomach. Against my own good sense, I’d let some little part of
myself start to believe that this trip didn’t need to be the end of me and
Cash. If our parents were simply going to part ways after this, maybe there
could have been some future for us. Stranger things have happened, right? But
so long as Mom and John’s relationship is moving forward, harboring fantasies
about a future with Cash is just asking for heartbreak down the line.

And if this well-worn heart of mine breaks one more time,
I’m not sure there will be any putting it back together again.

“Fuck her,” Sophie spits suddenly, “If she cares that little
about us, why don’t we just follow her lead? What if we just took a stand and
cut her out of our lives, right now? If the three of us broke off from her,
think of how much happier—”

“If any of us could stand to abandon her completely, we
would have already,” I cut Sophie off, “No matter how badly she hurts us, she’s
still family. That’s not something you can ever forget.”

A long silence engulfs us. I can see in my sisters’ pained
eyes that they know this truth as well as I do—family isn’t something you get
to choose for yourself. Even if you
estrange
yourself, disown your roots, run as far away as you can, you can never entirely
sever that bond. Didn’t the three of us come running to this lake house the
minute our mother called? Didn’t the Hawthorne boys flock back here too,
despite their toxic relationships with John? Like it or not, we are all our
parents children.

The question now is, how do we learn to live with that?

The growl of the Hawthornes’ pickup truck sounds out in the
night, rumbling up the driveway toward us. Through the mud-specked windshield,
I can see that Cash is riding shotgun while John drives. Luke and Finn are
riding in the truck bed with some leftover construction materials. One look at
John’s solemn, weathered face is all it takes to send Anna dashing off into the
house. She can’t even bear the sight of the man who’s helping our mother
disassemble our past. Sophie goes stock still as the pickup pulls to a stop in
the driveway. But the second the Hawthorne men start walking our way, she bolts
as well.

I’m the sole sentry guarding John’s path as he approaches,
flanked by his sons. My arms are crossed tightly across my chest, barely
reigning in my clamoring heart. I take in the sight of this upstanding, bearded
woodsman, conflicting emotions churning through my blood. On the one hand, I’m
grateful that my mother’s found someone she cares about, assuming that she
does. I never expected or wanted her to be alone for the rest of her life.
Truly, I’d be thrilled if she found a good man to love.

But at the same time, I’m having trouble believing that John
is that man. After everything Cash has told me about his father—the abuse, the
distrust, the coldness—I can’t imagine how he could be good for my sensitive,
flighty mother. I mean, John
must
know that selling the Vermont house
would crush me and my sisters. The only thing he’s truly ignorant to is what
else
a union between him and my mother would ruin. Namely, any chance of Cash being
part of my life, in the way I want him to be.

“Hey there, Maddie,” John says from the bottom step, turning
his handsome, rugged face toward me, “You holding down the fort for us?”

“Something like that,” I reply, hugging my arms even tighter
to my chest. I watch Cash’s brow furrow as he picks up on my distress. I can’t
hide a damn thing from him. Not ever.

“Where’s Robin and the girls?” John goes on, noticing the
array of untouched food and wine on the porch, “I thought you were going to
have yourselves a girls night or something?”

“Girls night was kind of a bust,” I tell them.

“Oh. What happened?” Luke asks, tucking his hands into his
pockets. He tries to sound unattached, but I’m sure his mind is on Sophie. He’s
protective of her, for whatever reason. And while I may not know the specifics
of their relationship, I can’t say I’m not glad that there’s
someone
looking out for her.

“Well,” I say shortly, “Mom broke the news about moving in
here with your dad. Permanently.
And
selling our childhood home. So that
kind of put a damper on things.”

All three boys’ whip around to face their father, whose face
hardens into stone.

“Dad…What?” Luke asks his father.

“Ah, shit…” John sighs, rubbing his jaw, “I meant to tell
you boys myself, but—”

Without saying a word, Finn walks off around the house, his
face unreadable. Luke stares at his father, rightfully indignant. But Cash’s
eyes swing back to my face instead. He knows as well as I do that our parents
getting more serious means an end to us. For good. And the angry sorrow roiling
in his eyes is enough to do me in. I try and blink back the tears that gather
in my eyes, but I know the levees won’t hold for long.

“Dad, I really don’t know about this,” Luke says, trying to
remain diplomatic.

“There’s nothing for you to know about,” John shoots back
gruffly, “Robin and I decided, and now it’s done.”

“OK, but… It’s our home too,” Luke says slowly, his hands
clenching.

“Is it?” John laughs in his middle son’s face, “I didn’t
realize. Do you build this damn place up out of nothing? Have you ever paid a
cent to live here?”

“All I mean is, this place is important to all of us,” Luke
goes on heatedly. “You could have done us the courtesy of asking—”

“
Asking
?” John growls, rounding on Luke. “You want me
to ask you for your
blessing
to do as I please in my own goddamn house?”

A jolt of real fear pierces me as John loses control of his
temper. Cash has told me stories about his dad’s anger issues, the way he can
be totally calm one minute and throwing punches the next. So far, I’ve never
seen it happen…but I get the feeling that’s about to change.

“Of course not, Dad,” Luke tells his father, “But—”

“But nothing,” John shouts, taking a looming step toward his
son. Though the Hawthorne boys each clear six feet easily, John is still the
tallest by a couple of inches. His shoulders are squared as he all but snarls
down at his middle son, “You may pull your weight around here, Luke, but don’t
get to thinking that I need your say-so to do anything I goddamn please.”

“Don’t get in my face, Dad,” Luke warns his father, holding
his ground.

“What’s that?” John snarls, giving Luke a hard shove in the
chest.

“Hey!” Cash snaps, taking a quick step toward them.

“Stay out of this,” John tells his oldest son.

Luke lifts his chin defiantly, unwilling to back down. I
grab hold of the porch railing, adrenaline coursing through my body. I’ve never
been around this sort of raw, physical aggression before. And I certainly don’t
want to be now.

“You think I owe you some kind of explanation?” John goes
on, backing Luke across the lawn, “I’ve put a roof over your heads and food on
your plates for twenty-six goddamn years. I’m handing over my business—the
business I built from scratch—right on over to you without you having to lift a
finger. Don’t tell me I owe you
anything
.”

“Without having to lift a
finger
?” Luke snaps,
stopping dead in his tracks, “I’ve been busting my ass for that business since
I was a kid. I’ve devoted my whole life to this family. Do you have any idea—”

“Don’t you raise your goddamn voice to me,” John snarls,
jabbing a finger into Luke’s hard chest.

“Don’t
you
lay a fucking finger on me,” Luke shoots
back, knocking his father’s arm away. “Haven’t you had your fill of beating up
on—”

I leap back as John throws himself at Luke, tackling him to
the ground. They roll across the grass, a tangle of limbs and flying fists.
Cash lunges toward them at top speed, throwing himself into the fray.

“
Get the fuck off him, Dad!
” he roars, dragging his
father away from Luke.

John loses his footing as Cash gets hold of him. Luke
scrambles to his feet as his dad rounds on Cash, swinging wildly. Cash dodges
every blow—and I can see now that he’s used to countering his father’s attacks.
John moves through these motions without remorse, without surprise. It’s
something the Hawthorne boys have been trained to expect all their lives. But
as many times as John swings at Cash, Cash refuses to stoop to his level. He
finally manages to pin his father’s arms behind his back, though the restraining
hold only seems to make John angrier.

“
Let me go
,” he roars, writhing furiously.

“Not until you stand down,” Cash answers, his voice
surprisingly calm. I realize that it wasn’t just his childhood that prepared
him to take on his dad, it was his Army training too. Cash could probably level
John with what he learned in the military, but he refuses to pick on a weaker
man…whether weaker of body or weaker of character. 

“Now you want to be fucking noble,” John growls, pulling
free of Cash at last and pacing away from his sons, “After throwing away
everything I gave you, wasting every opportunity, and fucking up the one thing
you ever did commit to, you want to come back here and save the day? Not gonna
happen, kid.”

“Don’t worry Dad,” Cash says through gritted teeth, “I gave
up on trying to save you a long time ago.”

Wordless rage smothers John’s response. The weathered old
man spits on the grass at his feet and turns away, storming off into the house.
I cringe away as he brushes past me, my whole being repulsed by him. He doesn’t
know the first thing about his oldest son. How noble he really is. And to
think, he and my mother are the reason we’ll never be
together
the way we want.

Maybe they really
do
deserve each other.

“Thanks,” Luke says gruffly, rubbing his shoulder, “For the
assist, I mean.”

“Of course,” Cash says, matter-of-factly, “You may be a big
dumb jock, but you’re still my brother.”

Luke lets out a short laugh and, to my surprise, throws his
arms around Cash. They hug quickly, fiercely—pounding each other on the back
before breaking away. Luke doesn’t even look at me as he takes off around the
house. I have the feeling his mind is otherwise occupied. As he rounds the
corner and disappears from sight, the fear and anxiety that I’ve been holding
back come flooding through my body. I sink down onto the porch steps, letting
my face fall into my hands. Tears stream through my fingers, unable to be
contained, as Cash rushes to me.

“It’s all right,” he murmurs, wrapping me up in his arms,
“It’s all right, Maddie.”

“H-how can you say that?” I sob, curling against the shelter
of his body, “Everything’s going to shit, Cash.”

“Last time I checked,” he replies, smoothing the hair out of
my face, “Everything’s shit more often than not. Guess I’m just used to it.”

“But
why
,” I insist, pulling back to look up at his
gleaming hazel eyes, “Why get used to it? Why settle for being miserable your
whole life?”

“I didn’t realize I was living such a miserable life,” he
says, jaw pulsing.

“Your dad just tried to beat the shit out of you and Luke,”
I cry, “He’s invited a woman you barely know to live in your home—”

“This isn’t my home, Maddie,” Cash tells me firmly, “And
that man I just kept from punching Luke’s teeth in? He may be my father, but I
gave up on him acting like a decent dad a long time ago.”