I walked inside as she came into the living room wearing her tennis skirt and looking pissed off. I was expecting her to be angry, but it pissed me off that she thought she had the right to be. After the way she had treated Blaire, did she think I wouldn’t call her out on it?
“You ruined my plans. This better be good,” she snapped.
I set my coffee cup down on the nearest table and turned to look at my sister. “Let me get something straight, because you must need reminding. Unless you want to get a job and pay for all your shit, then I have a say in how you act. I’ve let you act like a brat most of your life because I love you. I know that life with Mom was unfair for you. But I will not . . .” I paused and took a step toward her and leveled my gaze on her so she could see just how serious I was. “I will not allow you to hurt Blaire. Ever. She has done nothing to you. You blame her for the sorry excuse for a father you have. Blaire is a victim of that man just as much as you are. So do not speak to her like you did today ever again. I swear, Nan, I love you, but I won’t let you hurt her. Do not test me.”
Nan’s eyes went wide with surprise, and the fake tears I was used to her springing on me immediately glistened in her eyes. “You’re choosing her over me. Are you . . . are you f**king her? That’s it, isn’t it? That little slut!”
I was in her face so fast that she stumbled backward. I reached out and grabbed her arm to keep her from falling and jerked her back up. “Don’t you say it. I swear to God, Nan, you are going to push me too far. Think before you speak.”
She sniffled and let the tears she could turn on like a damn faucet roll down her face. I hated making her cry. The sick knot I got in my stomach when someone hurt Nan was forming. “I’m . . . I’m your sister. How could you do this to me? I was . . . You know what she did? Who she is? She kept him from me! My father, Rush. I’ve lived this life because I didn’t have him.” She was sobbing now and shaking her head, as if she couldn’t believe I could forget all this.
She would never see the truth. She was determined to blame and hate someone, but she refused to hate the person who deserved it the most. “Blaire was a child. She did nothing to you. She couldn’t help that she was born. She had no clue you even existed. Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you see the kind, honest, giving, hardworking person your sister is? No one can hate her! She’s f**king perfect!”
“Don’t you . . .” She pointed her finger at me, with horror on her face. “Do not call her my sister!” she screamed hysterically.
Sighing, I sat down on the sofa and held my head in my hands. Nan was so stubborn. “Nan, you share a father. That makes her your sister,” I reminded her.
“No. I don’t care. I do not care. I hate her. She’s manipulative, and she’s fake. She’s using sex to control you.”
I shot back up out of my seat. “I haven’t f**ked her, so don’t say that! Stop accusing her of shit you know nothing about. Blaire isn’t a whore. She’s a virgin, Nan. A virgin. You want to know why she’s a virgin? Because she spent her teen years taking care of her sick mother while running the household and going to school. She had no time to be a kid. She had no time to sow any wild oats. She was abandoned by her father for you. So if anyone should hate someone, she should hate you.”
Nan straightened her spine, her tears now dry. Which made this easier on me. I was all Nan had in the world, and I knew that. I didn’t want her thinking I had abandoned her. She was always going to be my little sister. But she was an adult now, and it was time she started acting like one. “And you. She should hate you, too,” Nan said, then turned and headed for the door. I didn’t call her back. I was too exhausted to deal with her any more today. I trusted she would leave Blaire alone for now.
I spent the rest of the day pushing Nan’s words from my head. I focused on getting Blaire a phone and then buying the things that I needed to make her a meal. A good one. Something to impress her and get her to talk to me. To forgive me for completely shutting down on her last night.
I knew she wouldn’t accept the phone from me, so I left a note in her truck telling her it was from her dad. I hated giving that stupid f**ker any credit, but I wanted Blaire to take the phone. I needed her to have a phone for my sanity. If I was going to keep her safe, then she needed it.
Glancing at the time, I realized she was more than likely in her truck by now. I picked up my phone and pressed her number, which I had saved in my phone.
“Hello,” she said softly. I could hear the confusion in her voice. Had she not read the note?
“I see you got the phone. Do you like it?” I asked.
“Yes, it’s really nice. But why did Dad want me to have it?” she asked. That was why she was confused. She didn’t expect the selfish bastard to do anything for her like this. She wasn’t an idiot.
“Safety measure. All females need a phone. Especially ones who drive vehicles older than they are. You could break down at any moment,” I replied, deciding that I would tell her why I wanted her to have a phone instead.
“I have a gun,” she said, with determination in her voice.
She was so sure she could take care of herself. “Yeah, you do, badass. But a gun can’t tow your truck.” There, let her argue with that. “Are you coming home?” I asked. I hadn’t thought about the fact that she might have plans tonight when I’d decided to cook her a meal and set up a seduction scene.
“Yes, if that’s OK. I can go do something else if you need me to stay away,” she replied. She still didn’t get it. She thought I wanted her to stay away. That there was anything else in the world I would rather do than be near her.
“No. I want you here. I cooked,” I said.
She paused, and I heard a surprised little intake of breath that made me smile. “Oh. OK. Well, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“See you soon,” I said, and I ended the call before she heard me laugh from pure f**king happiness. She was coming home. Here. To spend the night with me. I was fixing this. I was going to find a way to make her understand. I couldn’t lose her.
I went back to my food preparation. I didn’t cook for people often. Mostly just myself, when I really wanted something. Being able to cook something for Blaire was different. I enjoyed every damn minute of it.
She wasn’t used to being taken care of or pampered, and that was a damn shame. Blaire was the kind of female who should be cherished. I opened the fridge, pulled out a Corona and opened it, then sliced a lime and put it on the rim. Most girls I knew liked lime with their Coronas. I wasn’t sure Blaire was going to like beer, but I was making Mexican food, and you had to have a Corona with this meal.
I fixed the cheese, chicken, and vegetable mixture inside the flour tortillas, then placed them on the hot skillet.
“Smells good.” Blaire’s voice broke into my thoughts.
I glanced over my shoulder to see her dressed in the server uniform from the club. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but there was a small smile tugging on her lips. She’d caught me humming along to one of my dad’s newest songs.