suburb as Kenzie and her husband. When I was eight, Kenzie had offered to be Linc and Rhett’s gestational host. They got two separate eggs from the same donor, used both their sperm, and Kenzie had their twins. Ripley was biologically Linc’s son, and Lennon was biologically Rhett’s daughter. Kenzie and her husband Bishop were big parts of the twins’ lives, and I was sure it would physically hurt my adopted sister if they ever moved away from each other.
The call to my mother didn’t take long. Aunt Harper gave her a quick rundown of what was going on, leaving out the part where I was still drunk, but I knew it would only be a short reprieve. Whatever punishment I got, however, I would take without complaint.
I would own up to my mistakes, but I knew whatever I was given, it wouldn’t even be close to what they would do to my brother.
Chapter 8
Jagger
After dropping off Gretchen at her house, I drove around for a while, trying to clear my head. I wanted to go back to the party and make Shaw talk to me, but when I pulled up outside the house in Santa Monica, I saw Cannon’s car was still there and figured it was better to wait.
I got home a little after one and dropped down onto my bed. I typed out a text to Shaw at least fifty different times, but I ended up erasing it every single time because whatever I wrote seemed like pure bullshit.
I was sorry…for being a pussy. For not having the balls to pick her over her brother because I was scared—of losing them both. I should have manned up and told her what was in my heart.
A week ago, she would have taken my words and given them back to me. Now, she would probably laugh in my face. I could easily picture her FaceTiming me just so she could laugh hysterically before flipping me off and telling me to go fuck myself.
No, whatever I told her needed to be said face-to-face so she would know how sincere I was. That I wasn’t going to let anyone stand in my way this time. All that mattered was her. No one, not a godsdamn person, was going to stand in my way of winning her back.
A knock on my door was quickly followed by Ma barging into my room. The look on her face told me she was pissed, and I instantly went on alert, wondering if I was the one she was mad at. Hands on her hips, she stopped at the foot of my bed and glared down at me. “Tell me about this fucking party tonight.”
Swallowing a groan, I slowly sat up, knowing that I had to approach this—and her—with caution. “Maybe you should tell me what you know, Ma. And then I’ll fill in the blanks.”
“Don’t be a smartass,” she snapped and showed me her phone. With a tap of her finger over the screen, a video started playing.
The video was of me making out with Gretchen and then Shaw pouring beer over my head, followed by everything else, all the way up until Shaw punched Cannon and stormed away before abruptly cutting off.
“That about sums up the party,” I assured her.
“Yeah?” She lowered her phone, but her voice got even frostier. “That about sums up the party because you left after that, or it about sums it up because you want to protect Cannon?”
“I left,” I told her. “My date wanted to leave, and you taught me to always take care of the woman I’m with. It was my responsibility to make sure she got home safely.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I also trust you to take care of your cousins and keep them safe. Which is why I’m holding you responsible for what happened to Violet after you fucking left her and Shaw at that party, knowing Cannon was drunk and unstable.” She turned to go, calling over her shoulder, “You’re grounded until I say otherwise.”
“Wait!” I jumped out of bed and followed after her. “What happened to Violet?”
She stopped outside my room and glared at me. “Cannon hurt her.” She held up her phone again, and the picture that appeared had my stomach turning.
It was Violet, sitting on her bed at home with tears still rolling down her face. Her mouth looked swollen, bruised, and bleeding. “If you’d stayed like you should have, or at least gone back after taking your date home, this probably