The twins took off up the stairs with Way and Shannon on their heels, leaving me alone with my big brother. Finn patted the cushion next to him, an invitation I took a step further by cuddling into him the way I did when we wereyounger. His arm circled my shoulders as I buried my face in his side.
“How’s your hand?” I eventually asked.
“Sore,” he grunted. “The guy’s jaw is made of stone.”
“You can’t just go around punching people, Finn.”
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told Waverly. I have no regrets.” Minutes passed. “What are you going to do?”
“I have no idea.”
“Whatever you decide, I’ve got your back.”
“Thank you, Finn.”
“No need to thank me, Sloane. I’m your brother. It’s what I do.”
The extra dessert hadn’t helped when it came to getting the twins settled for bed. It took two and a half rounds of story time before their sugar high took a nosedive. Unfortunately, sleep didn’t come quite so easily for me, or at all really. After tossing and turning for the better part of the night, I ended up in the kitchen at four in the morning, trying out a new recipe for cinnamon buns.
Baking was an escape, a way to quiet my restless energy. It took precision and patience, both of which were eluding me at the moment. After pitching the second batch of disastrous buns into the trash can, I gave up. It was no use. My mind was cruising down Overload Highway without any brakes. Seeing Rogan––er––Duncan again was just the cherry on top of my massive poop sundae. It was all getting to be too much.
A couple months ago, my dad was diagnosed with renal failure. The doctors started him on dialysis with the hopesof a kidney transplant in the near future. I was tested, but sadly wasn’t a match. My father vehemently refused to tell Finn since the two of them got along about as well as oil and water. Understandably, I was upset, so when Mom mailed me a DNA test, I presumed she was simply trying to cheer me up. There was too much going on in my life to think about it again after I spat in the provided test tube and sent the kit back in.
Finn was in the process of relocating his company, Lachlan Industries, to Huntington while also dealing with a stalker situation. As his chief financial officer, the plan was for me to join him once everything was settled. In the interim, the kids and I went to visit my mom in Tennessee. We were there for about a week when I got the results from the DNA test via email.
I must’ve stared at the words “half sister” for days on the website before the shock finally wore off. Contacting Shannon was strange, to say the least. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for us to get over the initial awkwardness of the situation. We spent hours talking on the phone, getting to know one another, and even made plans to meet face-to-face. Everything was going great, until one afternoon I mistook Mom’s phone for mine. What I read in the text thread between my parents made me sick to my stomach. Not only had they known about Shannon, they’d used me to find her, all in an effort to get a dang kidney. It was obvious my father didn’t give a crap that he had another daughter, not when he used the phrase “spare donor” with such callous disregard. The longer I read, the more my blood boiled. When I reached the last text––which was time-stamped from the night before––I saw red. Mom promised to have the twins tested if all else failed.
My twins.
My babies.
F that!
I packed up the kids and drove straight to Finn. That all happened a few weeks ago and I hadn’t spoken to her once. In hindsight, it wasn’t my finest moment, but I abhorred confrontation. Eventually, I wouldn’t have a choice. Her nonstop calls and unanswered messages would continue to pour in until I pulled up my big girl panties and did something about it, or worse, let Finn handle it like he threatened. Needless to say, my plate was overflowing.
When the last of the baking dishes were cleaned, I poured myself a cup of coffee, added a splash of cream, then curled up on the living room sofa. Looking around, I took in my surroundings. It was nice, but it didn’t feel like home. Probably because it wasn’t. One thing escaped me during my impromptu move, signing a lease on a house. As luck would have it, Finn had perfect timing. He asked Waverly to move in with him within days of our arrival, which left her cottage empty and available. It wasn’t exactly what I’d always dreamed of, but it would do until I found something more permanent.
Taking a sip of French roasted deliciousness, I closed my eyes and allowed the stillness of the early morning to seep into my weary bones. The tranquility wouldn’t last long, not with two seven-year-olds. Rogan and Reagan were early risers. Even when they were babies, their internal alarm clock wouldn’t let them sleep much past six thirty, as if doing so meant they’d miss out on whatever the day had to offer. Soon enough, they’d blast through my peace and quiet, bringing wave after wave of unsuppressed energy with them.
I needed another cup of coffee…or ten.
3BETWEEN LOVE AND LIES
Duncan
The drive back to Huntington did nothing but fuel my rage. I’d gone to Quantico seeking answers and left questioning everything I’d ever known. Could I have been so blinded by my sense of loyalty that I didn’t see the writing on the wall? Had someone in my own damn organization––potentially someone I considered a friend––set out to destroy my life? Thinking the worst was almost as inconceivable as not considering the possibility. Regardless of the outcome, I had to know the truth, even if digging up the past unearthed old demons. Whoever caused the accident was still out there breathing free. Until they were brought to justice, Sloane and the kids weren’t safe. They were my priority.
I’ve thought about her no less than once every second since I left her standing on Finn’s porch. Sloane was alive. My Sunshine was alive. It physically hurt me to walk away, to not drop down on my knees and beg for forgiveness. It was yet another notch in my long list of regrets when it cameto her. The biggest one being not laying out the truth from the beginning.
No more secrets. It was past time for us to be what we were always meant to be…a family. And I was on a mission to win mine back.
My feet were dragging when I stepped into my kitchen and tossed my keys on the counter. Thirty-six hours with no sleep was hell on my body. Pulling the phone from my back pocket, I dialed the number, then second-guessed the move I was about to make. Finn answered on the first ring.
“You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that much.”
“I need your help.”
“Apparently, huge balls.”