Extra Whip (Bold Brew #8) - L.A. Witt Page 0,167

damn thing about Aaron and Will. I’d walked away, and neither had responded to my texts. Message received—apparently when I’d shut the door on my way out, they’d locked it behind me. There was no going back.

So why the fuck was I still here? In this house? In Laurelsburg? There was nothing for me except grief, failure, and heartache.

This house was haunted, and I wasn’t going to be one of those horror film characters who kept living here and hoping the ghosts didn’t finally drive me insane or drag me to hell.

An email with “we need to discuss the house urgently” got my siblings’ attention, and they were surprisingly quick about setting up a Zoom meeting. All three of them were obviously in their offices. Daniel and Lisa were in lab coats with degrees on the walls in the background. Maryann was in a suit. I was in sweatpants on the couch in the house I’d inherited from our father. Somehow, that seemed to poetically sum up this family, and this call couldn’t end soon enough.

“What’s this about?” Daniel demanded. “I have patients in—”

“I’ll keep it quick.” I cleared my throat. “I just needed to give you all a heads up about the house.”

Eyes widened. They all leaned closer to their screens.

“What’s going on?” Maryann asked. “Is something wrong with it?”

There is so much wrong with this place…

I took a deep breath. “The bottom line is that I can’t stay here. If any of you want the place, say so, but if not…” I swallowed, steeling myself. “I’m putting it on the market.”

Instantly, all three of them were talking angrily over each other, shaking their heads and gesticulating wildly in their respective offices.

Finally, Lisa cut through the chaos: “You can’t sell it, Kelly! Dad’s will said so!”

“No, it doesn’t. I had a lawyer look it over.” I forced back the rush of emotions that came from just thinking about Aaron. “Yeah, Dad told us all he wanted it to stay in the family, but there’s nothing in the will that says I can’t sell it. And I know none of you are going to be happy about it, but I need to sell it.”

“For God’s sake.” Daniel smacked something. His desk, I thought. “Only you could think it was an imposition that Dad willed you an enormous house.”

“Do you want it?” I asked through my teeth.

“I told you,” he said. “I can’t take it.”

“Then what makes you think I can?”

“Because you’re not exactly tied down by a practice in another state,” he snapped. “You don’t have a mortgage or student loans already. Plus you still got a sweet chunk of Dad’s estate, so don’t act like you can’t afford it.”

“You got a chunk of it too,” I growled.

“Yeah, and I’ve got kids to put through college. What are you doing with the money?” He laughed bitterly. “Buying paintbrushes?”

A memory flashed through my mind of Will telling me how I needed to ignore people who shit on my aspirations, and damn it, why couldn’t he be here right now?

Oh. Right. Because I left. Because I couldn’t be a third wheel and a sex toy, no matter how much I’d convinced myself I could be. There was room for me in Aaron and Will’s bed, but that was it, and I needed more than that.

So now I had nothing. Awesome.

“Look,” I gritted out, hating the way my voice tried to shake, “Dad willed this place to me because he thinks I’m a failure. Do you know what it’s like to try to sleep in a place you’re only in because your dad thinks you’re a colossal fuck-up?”

“Kelly.” Daniel sighed in that patronizing way our dad had always done. “He didn’t think you were a failure. He just knew we had stable homes and careers and didn’t need—”

“And how exactly does that not translate into Dad thinking I’m a failure?” Before any of them could answer, I put up my hands. “It really doesn’t matter, okay? I know this place has sentimental value for all of you. That’s why I’m putting this out there. But the only way I’m going to move on from Dad and find my way in life is if I can walk away from this house.”

“And live on the money you make from the sale,” Lisa grumbled.

I shrugged without a hint of apology. “It is what it is. But I need to move on, and it’s really not up to any of you. I just need you to tell

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