Young Love Dies Hard: The Young Brothers, Book 1 by Nikki Lane (old books to read txt) 📗

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I knew what they were referring to, and I’d hoped they wouldn’t bring it up.

“We know,” Aunt Meg said, “that you came to visit us when we weren’t home.”

“Meg…” Uncle Jim muttered.

She waved him off. “I just want her to know.”

“Not now,” he murmured.

“It’s fine,” I said.

Aunt Meg stuffed a bunch of silverware into the basket. “You know that this will always be your home, Maeve.”

“Jacob,” Uncle Jim said. “How about helping me close the barn?”

“Yes, sir.” Jacob gave me a questioning look.

I nodded, letting him know I was okay to be left alone with Aunt Meg.

“I’ll be outside if you need me.”

“Okay,” I said.

I could feel Aunt Meg’s eyes on us the entire time. She eyed me suspiciously as Jacob left to meet Uncle Jim outside.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean for you to find out about your mother that way.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said with a shrug.

I continued to wipe down the stove and avoided looking at Aunt Meg’s face. Did I want to be upset? Yes. But I didn’t think Aunt Meg or Uncle Jim would do anything to hurt me intentionally.

“I’m more concerned about Kasey. How long has she been sulking?” I asked.

“Ever since she found out your mother left the house.”

“Why she ever wanted to go back there with them I will never understand.”

“Maeve,” she said, reaching for my hand.

I met my eyes with hers. Light blue, with soft wrinkles around the creases of her lids. The closest thing I had to a real mother.

“I know this is hard for you to believe.” She took a deep breath. “But your mother is really trying hard this time. She swore to me that she has no intentions of going back. And I believe her.”

“Why?” I asked. I tossed the dirty sponge into the sink. “Why should any of us believe anything she has to say?”

She gave me a sympathetic smile. “It’s just something I feel deep in my heart. And she’s my sister. I can’t turn my back on her when she’s asking me for help. Just like I could never turn my back on you or Kasey.”

I crossed my arms and leaned against the sink. What could I say that I hadn’t already?

Aunt Meg leaned her weight against the counter next to me so that we were shoulder to shoulder.

“She loves you both, Maeve. And I know that there’s nothing in the world that would mean more to her than you giving her another chance.”

I took a deep breath. “I’ve given her plenty of chances.”

“I know,” she said, grabbing a notepad and a pen. “She’s staying at this place called Safe Haven. It’s a shelter for domestic violence victims.” She wrote the address down and gave it to me. “In case you change your mind.”

“Shelter?” She’d never gone that far before.

“After she saw how upset you got when you saw she was here, she packed her bags and left. She wants to respect your space.”

I hesitated but took the paper from her and tucked it into one of the pockets of my dress. It was just easier this way. If there was anything Aunt Meg had an infinite supply of, it was hope.

“So,” she said, returning to the cleaning.

I turned around to face the sink again.

“Things are going good with Jacob, I see.”

I tried not to smile, but her infectious smirk made it impossible.

“It’s not what you think,” I said.

The staircase squeaked, and we both looked. Kasey stood at the foot of the steps with one hand on the banister.

“Is it too late for turkey?” she said.

Aunt Meg gave her a warm smile. The same one that made me instantly feel safe. “Of course not, sweetheart.”

She opened her mouth to say something more but her impending words were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. We both looked at each other, probably questioning who would be visiting now.

“Is it?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t Mom.

“No,” she said, deep creases in her furrowed brow. “She promised she wouldn’t.”

The knocking continued but louder and harder. It was a sinister knock, the knock of someone who knew they wouldn’t be welcomed.

“Meg,” a muffled voice shouted from the other side. “Open up.” Bang, bang, bang.

“Kasey,” I said.

Her eyes widened with fear.

“Go upstairs and lock yourself in your room.”

“But—”

“Now!” I said.

She scurried up the steps, and I heard her door slap shut.

Aunt Meg crept toward the door. My stomach twisted into a knot as she peered around the curtain to see who was standing on the other side.

But we both knew.

“What do you want, Doug?” she said through the glass.

I cowered back at the sight of his face.

“I just want to talk,” he said to her.

I couldn’t tell if he could see me yet.

“There’s nothing I have to say to you,” Aunt Meg said.

But she hadn’t thought about the lock to the door. They never kept it locked when they were home. And my father knew it. He had his hand around the knob, and the door opened before I could yell a warning to Aunt Meg.

She backed away from the door as he stomped inside.

“Where is she?” he growled.

Aunt Meg stood in front of me in a protective gesture. “She’s not here, Doug.”

He rubbed the top of his balding head. It’d been a while since we’d seen each other. It didn’t look like he ever changed out of that misbuttoned shirt he always wore. His white undershirt stretched over his paunch.

“Wait a minute…” He squinted at me with red eyes. “What the fuck is she doing here?”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Aunt Meg shouted. “And she belongs here, not you. So just go.”

I cowered back, wishing I could disappear into the drain of the sink. Slide down the pipes and into the ocean like the goldfish I had when I was six. It wasn’t dead, but I wanted to give it its freedom. The freedom that I’d craved. No reason to let him suffer in that house with me.

My father took