to apologize for what I said.” I puff out a breath. “I didn’t know he had a brother.” My gaze casts to the ground and my voice softens. “I didn’t know his brother died.”
“Who told you that?”
“Spike.”
“That’s a surprise.”
“Why’s that?”
“Spike doesn’t tend to stick his nose in other people’s business and likes the favor returned.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” She draws strands of strawberry curls over her shoulder and threads her fingers through their long length.
Holly’s striking, more than gorgeous, an ethereal presence surrounds her, and reminds me of my mother. I’ve heard the stories about Bash only dating redheads. How groupies would dye their hair red just to have a crack at him. Holly’s ginger hair doesn’t come from a box, and her wild curls make me jealous.
My hair is strawberry blonde, a mix between Bash’s blond and my mother’s red hair. I get my curls from my mother, but they’re loose and flowing, whereas Holly’s are springy and chaotic.
“I’m sure you’ve picked up on it. Spike’s a private guy. His name doesn’t just come from the metal piercing his flesh. He’s prickly and standoffish. Doesn’t like others poking in his business. As a result, he seldom meddles in the business of others. I’m just surprised he said anything at all. That’s not like him.”
“Well, he said a few choice words to me. Told me about Bash’s brother and how my words were insensitive. Only, I didn’t know, and I wanted to apologize. Things haven’t been easy, and sometimes I…”
“Angel, I like to get to the point. Beating around the bush really isn’t my thing. You and me, there’s friction there, and I get it, but I’m not your enemy. Bash isn’t either, although you treat him as if he’s the worst thing that ever happened to you. Your mother made choices for the both of you that…”
She runs her fingers through her fiery hair. “Well, let’s just say, they make things complicated. Bash doesn’t have a clue how to be a dad, and you’re not making things easy on him. You’re too headstrong to let run wild, more likely to make poor choices than not. He’s trying to rein in all that passion of yours and stepping up as best he can. But you resent the authority he has over you. As for me, I’m not your mom. I don’t want to be your mom. I had nothing to do with her death, and I sure as shit didn’t steal your dad from her. You’ve been nothing but prickly to me and I’ve let it go. Figured you had a lot on your plate to figure out. I’m here if you need a sounding board, but I can no longer stand by and let you get away with being a spiteful brat.”
Her green gaze pierces and cuts. “Be careful where you direct your anger. Nobody here is your enemy. Least of all Bash. Certainly, not me. I didn’t take Bash from your mom. She did that, and then cancer took her from you. Life isn’t fair. It sucks. It’s painful. Sometimes it leaves you adrift and struggling to find your place in the world. You have a chance to do something very few people ever get to do.”
“What’s that?”
“You get to choose if you want to be a part of this family, but if you do, stop beating us up for things that aren’t our fault. You want him to treat you like a grown woman, then stop acting like a child. Take responsibility for your life.”
“I am taking responsibility.”
“No. You’re spinning your wheels. You have no plans for your future. Get your shit together and stop beating him up for something that isn’t his fault.”
My shoulders slump because she’s right about it all. Only, I still don’t know what I want to do with my life. My junior year in high school, when all my friends were checking out colleges and planning their futures, I was nursing my mother as she battled cancer and ultimately lost. Most of last year is a fog of grief, and the rest is filled with tons of anger. I’m angry about everything: mom getting sick, dying on me when I needed her the most, losing my home, coming here, the complete absence of friends. It’s overwhelming.
I’m so damn angry about all of it. I blow out a breath as Holly’s words sink in deep.
“I don’t know what I want.” But I know who I want.
After everything Holly says, doubts creep in about