from behind, sending her sprawling to the floor. As she struggled to get up, hands slipping on the slick, pristine tile, Kevin pounced on the gun.
“It’s not me!” Mackenzie screamed. “I’ve told you everything. I admitted as much in the iron maiden, remember?”
Mackenzie must have truly believed that Kevin was about to take her out, but as he scrambled to his feet, the Glock firmly gripped in his hand, it wasn’t Mackenzie he turned the weapon on.
It was Persey.
IT WAS THE YELLING THAT THREW PERSEY OFF. NOT THAT there hadn’t been plenty of yelling in Persey’s house—almost entirely from her dad, though occasionally her mom yelled back—but most of it was centered around or directed at Persey, so to come home from school and hear raised voices already in progress was new.
The argument was coming from the kitchen. It filtered through the swinging double doors into the foyer, and Persey recognized the voices right away: her dad, her mom…and her brother.
He must have come back from Vietnam, just like their dad wanted. But judging by the volume level, it wasn’t a joyous homecoming.
He was trying to get Dad to reopen the money tap. That’s the only reason she could think of that would lure her brother back home. And since he was accustomed (conditioned) to using his considerable charm to get his own way, it made sense that he’d use what was left of his funds to fly home in an attempt to get more.
The old Persey would have turned upstairs, retreated to her room, and let the conversation downstairs play itself out. The outcome was practically a foregone conclusion—why witness her brother’s manipulations firsthand? But the shouting. It was angry, stubborn. Things weren’t going according to her brother’s plan.
And that was worth seeing.
She crept to the kitchen door, careful to keep her body to one side of the gap between the two swinging sides so as not to give away her presence, and listened.
“I don’t understand why you won’t get over this,” her brother said. “I’m never going back to Columbia.”
“Of course you’re not,” her dad snapped. “They wouldn’t allow you to reenroll. But I have connections at other schools. State, for example. They’d be happy to have you.”
“I’m not going to State. Or anywhere. I’m getting a real-world education.”
“But, darling…” Her mom sounded slightly less intoxicated than usual. “What kind of career do you expect to have without a college degree?”
Hadn’t she made the same argument in reverse to describe Persey’s future?
“Mom, you’re adorable. I already know how to run this company. Why do I need a BA for that?”
“Okay, Boss. Slow down.” Her dad again. Less angry, more surprised. “Your plan is to take over the family business? Just like that?” He snapped his fingers.
“No, that’s your plan, Dad. The one you’ve been drilling into me for years. But what I’m saying is, why wait? Why wait until you’re both too old to enjoy your retirement? You could take Mom to Fiji for a month, one of those all-inclusives she’s been talking about literally since I was five.”
“Yes,” her mom said, “but I don’t think we’re—”
“And you could still be involved,” her brother continued, talking faster. “Like a pitch man on TV. You would stay here and hold down the fort while I build our brand overseas.”
“Which I’m happy to let you do,” her dad said, “once you’ve finished your degree.”
“FUCK THE DEGREE!” Her brother’s fury exploded, rage propelling the words so violently out of his body that Persey could hear the globules of spit that accompanied them. “I’m not waiting four years to start living my life. Genevieve and I—”
“Don’t bring her into this,” her dad said. “This isn’t about her.”
“There is no ‘her’ and ‘me’ anymore. Only ‘us.’”
There was a pause, and then a strangled gasp from Persey’s mom. He must have showed them something. A wedding ring? Had he actually gotten married to his girlfriend?
“God DAMN IT!” Her dad slammed his palm down on the kitchen counter, a move which heretofore had usually (exclusively) been reserved for addressing Persey’s grades. “You can’t just waltz in here and demand the company business, understand? You have to earn it. You have to go to college and get your degree and then you come and work for the company, learning the ropes before you can even begin to think about taking over.”
“And what if I don’t want to?” Her brother’s voice had gone eerily (ominously) calm, and though Persey wasn’t even in the room, she felt a