Page 39 of Full Throttle 2

Chapter Eighteen

Cyrus was sitting on the porch, sipping iced tea when Faye whipped her rented Mercedes AMG SL into the driveway.

He wondered how she managed to avoid the police wearing that big-ass church hat and aviator glasses. There was no way she could see out of the review window. Her hat almost fell off as she struggled to get out of the car. Inwardly, Cyrus laughed.

He thought to himself,My damn sister.

Faye dripped wealth and looked out of place in the driveway of his modest three-bedroom home. However, she got it together, righted herself, and you would have thought Cyrus’s sidewalk was a Paris Fashion Week runway. The woman could have earned money with that strut.

Cyrus sighed. “Too bad she didn’t use her gifts for good.”

Most people wouldn’t have suspected that she was flat-out broke, but Cyrus knew the truth, especially since he’d had to wire her large sums of money. He loved his younger sister, but she tended to blow into town quickly, stay a short while, and leave a mess in her wake for him to clean up. He hoped this time would be different. No, Cyrus was determined to make sure this timewouldbe different. He’d always been a big old softy whenit came to Faye, but this visit, Cyrus planned to drop some tough love.

He didn’t say a word as she walked up the pathway toward him.

“Hey there! What are you doing out here?” Faye feigned excitement.

“Haven’t really had a chance to sit out on the porch and enjoy this weather.”

Faye swatted at a bug. “It’s too humid for me. My hair is a mess. We should go inside.”

Cyrus patted the seat next to him. “Nah, have a seat, and let’s chat.”

Faye walked up the stairs onto the porch and looked at the wicker chair Cyrus pointed to. Her face gave away the game. “You want me to sit my white Prada suit on that?”

“If it’s good enough for me and my dearly departed wife, then it’s good enough for you.” He was firm. “Please,sit down.”

Cyrus had never used that tone with her before. She was kind of shocked, but Faye eased herself into the chair.

He cut to the chase. “What’s going on? Why are you back in East Moline?”

“I told you. I haven’t been home in a while and thought I’d check in on the girls.”

The look he gave Faye said more than words could, but Cyrus tried anyway. “Bullshit. You hate it here and couldn’t wait to get on the first plane out as soon as you could. You’ve barely come back for weddings and funerals. You need money?”

If clutching pearls were a person, it would have been Faye. “Cyrus, don’t be so crass.”

“Don’t be so boujee. You can drop the act. It’s just us here.”

Faye couldn’t hold his gaze and looked out into the yard. “You didn’t even offer me a drink before insulting me.”

Cyrus checked his watch. “I’m on the clock.”

Frustrated, Faye sighed. “If you must know, I came home to regroup and get my thoughts together.”

Cyrus took a sip of his tea. “Mmmhmm. How long is that going to take, and how much is it going to cost?”

Faye sat up on the edge of the chair. “You’re acting like you don’t want me here. If you don’t, I can go.”

“Go where? Where do you have to go?”

“I have other places I can be. I just wanted to be close to family.”

Cyrus stared at her for a long time. “Look, let me just make it plain. Lila showed up here running from something. But since she’s been here, she’s been thriving. She is in a good place, finishing up her degree, and seems to be getting her head on straight. Don’t go messing that up and interfering in her life.”

Faye waved him off. “A degree? At her age? C’mon. She’s wasting her time. She needs to be practical and secure her future.”

“Her age? Lila is still young.”

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