Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 75643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“You’ll tell me, right?” he asked as he pushed impossibly closer.
I nodded. “When we’re no longer being glared at by Bayou.”
My whisper was almost imperceptible, but somehow he heard me.
“I’ll make sure I get it out of you,” he promised me.
Which he did moments later when there was a loud crash followed by an enraged scream.
I shifted, staring at the house in surprise.
“What the fuck was that?” I asked in horror.
Bayou sighed, tossing his towel on the hood of the truck, and walked inside. “I’ll deal with it.”
When he left, I was left standing there, unsure what to do.
“Should I go in there and check to make sure she’s all right?” I wondered.
“No.” Hoax ignored whatever it was that had happened. “Now tell me why Bayou looks at you like you’re annoying, and refuses to talk to you.”
I felt my lips twitch. “Maybe I am annoying. Has that ever crossed your mind?”
“There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re annoying.” Before I could get pissed, he continued. “Annoyingly intelligent. Annoyingly beautiful. Annoyingly evasive…I could go on.”
I bit my tongue to keep from grinning.
I liked that he thought that about me.
“No, my head’s big enough right now already,” I told him honestly. Then my gaze sharpened. “Why do I feel like I know you?”
He stopped drying the truck—which was almost done now—and stared at me. “I don’t know.”
I sighed and threw my now-wet towel onto the banister that led up to Bayou’s porch.
“Now talk to me,” he ordered as I turned away.
I fidgeted with the towel, making sure that it was laid out smoothly for optimal drying ability, and then turned to take a seat on the first step that led up to Bayou’s porch.
I told him about Brielle and what had happened at a club party, not sparing a single detail.
He got this weird look on his face.
“I was there,” he told me. “Dixie is our grandfather. Dixie’s daughters are our mothers. I know exactly when you are talking about, too. I was fresh out of AIT—advanced individual training—and home for a week leave before I was assigned to my new base.”
“That might be why we feel like we know each other,” I pointed out.
Honestly, there’d been so many freakin’ kids at those parties that I couldn’t remember specifically if he had been there or not. We’d gone to quite a few, and still did, but the extended family of not just the Free members, but the Dixie Wardens members, had grown exponentially. There was no way that I’d ever be able to remember.
“Probably saw each other in passing,” he agreed, walking over to me and dropping his towel unceremoniously over mine, causing me to roll my eyes.
While my eyes were distracted by the way he’d thrown the fabric, Hoax was busy sitting down next to me, shrugging his t-shirt on, and scooting in close. I hadn’t realized how close until I turned my face only to have Hoax’s lips brush mine.
Another shriek from the house had me jumping, and I looked over my shoulder to see the blinds now parted, and Bayou standing in the window, his back to us, staring at who I guessed was Brielle making a spectacle of some sort.
“So she really hates me,” I told him. “And it might or might not have been you I was staring at that night…”
He shrugged.
“Brielle is…difficult.” He paused. “She’s jealous. Angry. Petty. I could go on.”
I didn’t need him to, so I waved my hand in the air.
“She also has a mental condition, which I think is why Bayou puts up with her bullshit since she’s kind of like him. When she came into our lives, she was eight years old. Her father and Bayou’s father had been friends from a young age, and when Brielle’s father died, Donald adopted her. She latches onto people and obsesses over them. She gets super clingy, and angry, when someone gets near who she considers ‘hers.’” He sighed. “And since she can’t help it, we deal with it…even though sometimes it’d be easier to tell her to leave us the fuck alone.”
I blinked. “So, she has Asperger’s?”
He shook his head. “No, Bayou was diagnosed with that as a teenager. But he’d always been different, like Brielle. Brielle was diagnosed with schizophrenia—though it’s controlled by medication. They bonded over their differences.”
“And he’s protective over her because he sees himself in her,” I guessed.
Hoax nodded. “Exactly. Bayou has such a stranglehold on his disorder that if I hadn’t known him from the time he was a kid, I wouldn’t even know he has anything wrong with him. Honestly, he just comes off as unapproachable. I’m honestly not convinced there’s anything ‘really’ wrong with him seeing as he’s exactly like most of the human population. Brielle, though? She’s definitely got a few screws loose. I’m not convinced that she doesn’t have other things wrong with her. But, saying that, she’s my cousin—ish—and I’ll continue to care for her even when she’s acting stupid.”