Page 2 of The Merciless King

“Soon you’ll be more interested in girls than your family.” Mom smiled sadly.

I remember clicking the remote and lifting Amy into my arms, thinking what a dumb thing that was for my mom to say.

Family is family.

Dating is...well, I guess I like a few girls, but they mostly just giggle and blush, watching us while we play sports. It’s annoying, but I don’t hate it.

It won’t stop me from caring about Amy. I promised her she’d always have me, and I meant it. For some reason, I’ve decided she’s my responsibility to look after.

That won’t ever change.

“She’s my cousin. I’ll always protect her. Always,” I told Mom, then carried Amy upstairs.

Mom followed and helped me tuck her in.

“Night, Buttercup,” I whispered, planting a kiss on her forehead.

Mom brushed the hair from her forehead and then we walked out, pulling the bedroom door half closed. I made sure the night-light was turned on in the hallway and then went down to my bedroom, but Mom stopped me with a hand on my arm.

“Make sure you keep that promise, Brax. Losing her dad and, well, let’s just say Amy is going to need our support for a long time.”

Losing her dad and...?

What had Mom left out?

If it was that Aunt Tracey wasn’t exactly being a great mom, because she was still...grieving... It was not a secret.

But it was an excuse I’d heard over and over for many more years.

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BRAXTON—Age 26

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“I CAN’T BELIEVE you’re a US Marine.” Amy says as she takes a sip of my beer.

“Oy!” I grab it off her. “Aunt Tracey will kick my ass if she sees you drinking. You’re sixteen!”

She rolls her eyes.

“I know how old I am. And Mom doesn’t care.” Amy picks up the bottle again and I don’t say anything, focusing on the grill as I push the steaks around.

“She cares,” I finally reply.

Amy snorts.

“Anyway, enough about my alcoholic mother. When can I meet all your hot Marine buddies?”

I lift my brows and side-eye her.

How about never?

“When you’re thirty,” I reply.

She rolls her eyes again. “You do know you’re not my dad, right?”

I feel like I am sometimes. There are ten years between us, but she’s right. I’ve always been protective of her rather than the fun older cousin.

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