The Lies We Tell (The Four #1) - Becca Steele Page 0,8
on the table. My mouth flew open at the sudden display of temper, but Caiden didn’t even flinch.
“I am your stepmother. And while you’re under my roof, you obey my rules. Is that clear?”
He laughed mockingly. “Nice try, Christine. Never gonna happen.”
Arlo returned to the room just as my mother was leaning across the table, preparing to launch another tirade at Caiden. She glanced up at Arlo, and a calculating expression appeared on her face.
“Arlo, darling.” She touched his arm, purring her words. “Don’t you agree that Caiden should dress more appropriately for family meals?”
Arlo glanced over at Caiden. He shrugged. “Whatever you say, my love. You’re the lady of the house and mother to my sons. If you believe he should, then I’ll back you.” Lifting her hand, he pressed a kiss to her knuckle, and she smiled triumphantly at Caiden.
Weston’s head shot up at Arlo’s words, and identical expressions of dismay crossed both his and Caiden’s faces.
“She’s not my mother,” Caiden ground out, so quietly that I wasn’t sure if anyone but me heard him, gripping his knife so tightly his knuckles turned white. Across the table, Weston scrubbed a hand over his face, before sighing and turning to his phone, his lips curved downwards, misery clear in his eyes.
Silence fell. Again.
I picked at my food, pushing it around on my plate, my appetite non-existent.
“Why are you here?” Caiden’s low hiss came as Arlo was engaged in a discussion with my mother, and Weston was ignoring everyone, typing on his phone with one hand while he shovelled food into his mouth with the other.
“I’m here to get to know my mother. Why, do you have a problem with that?” I glared at him.
“Yes, I do.” He lowered his voice even further. “I fucking hate your whore of a mother, and I know you’re just like that evil bitch.”
I gasped, my mouth falling open. “You don’t even know anything about me. How dare you make assumptions?”
“I know enough,” he said darkly. “And I promise you, right here, right now, that I’m going to do everything I can to make your life miserable. I don’t trust you. I don’t want you here. We don’t want you here. Leave, or you will regret it.”
The threat hung heavy in the air between us as I tried to wrap my head around his words.
“Leave? You think you can scare me off?”
“I know I can.” His words were stated as fact, and I felt rage building. I welcomed it, using it to bolster me.
“Do your worst. Because I. Am. Not. Going. Anywhere.” I clenched my fists, shaking with anger and staring into his eyes, which had darkened to the colour of the ocean at night, black and fathomless.
“Watch your back, Winter. You’re out of your depth, and you don’t know how to swim in these waters.”
“Big words coming from someone who relies on Daddy’s money to get by.”
“You know nothing,” he spat.
He slammed his fork down on the table and rose to his feet. “Dad, I’ve lost my appetite. I’ll call you in the week.”
His father rolled his eyes. “At least you managed to last through fifteen minutes of the meal this time. That’s an improvement.”
“Whatever. Weston, you coming.” It wasn’t a question.
Weston sighed and rose to his feet. “See you soon, Dad.” Both of them ignored my mother, but Weston sent me a half-smile as he turned to leave. I attempted to smile back.
This family clearly had problems, and I’d somehow ended up in the middle of them. Investigating my dad’s death was going to involve some very careful planning.
We finished the meal in silence, and then Arlo announced he was going to his study to work. My mother turned to me. “You’d better be getting back now, hadn’t you? Don’t your classes begin tomorrow?”
Guess it was time for me to leave. I nodded, keeping my endgame in mind. I needed to stay on my mother’s good side. “Yes, I probably should. Shall we arrange to get together next weekend?”
My mother pursed her lips. “No, next weekend won’t do. I’ll get Arlo to talk to the boys and coordinate our schedules.” She stood, crossing to the doorway, and stared at me expectantly.
“Allan will see you out. It was…nice to catch up.” She swept out of the room, and Allan peered around the door frame. “Miss Huntington? I have your coat.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at him, and he gave me a genuine, beaming smile, the first proper one I’d received all evening.