Page 6 of Mace

“And that’s why you’ll never be the goat,” he mutters. “Goats don’t conform to things like going to work.”

“Gee, thanks, but being a goat doesn’t put food on the table.” I pause. “Unless it’s a literal goat.”

He tosses his head back, groaning. I ignore him, studying the clock again. My irritation is morphing into something far worse.

Fear.

Ivy’s usually late but never this close to the wire.Where the hell is she?

Suddenly, my brain is conjuring a thousand scenarios, each worse than the last.

Did she have an accident?

Has she been abducted?

Has she fallen into another dimension without a watch?

I don’t mind leaving Toby if I know Ivy is on her way, but I don’t want to go if she’s not coming. Toby is twelve, but he’s not like Ivy and I were at his age. We babied him after our mum died, so he’s not independent enough for me to leave him without supervision. If there was an emergency, I honestly don’t think Toby could figure out what to do, and that’s why I want Ivy with him.

“Did she say where she was going today?” I question, even though I doubt she will have confided that in Toby.

Her secretiveness bugs me more than I want to admit. I’m not strict with either of them, and I know I put a lot on my sister’s shoulders when it comes to family responsibilities, but I don’t have a choice. I have to work, and someone has to take care of Toby while I do that—at least for another year or so until he’s a little more mature.

My brother’s jaw tightens like it always does when he’s upset. “Why would she tell me? I’m just a baby.”

Now, my own jaw flexes. “Did she say that to you?” He shifts his shoulders, caught between his obvious upset and his desire not to snitch. I try to keep my face impassive. “You’re not a baby.”

He becomes focused on the game, and I let it slide—for now—as I bounce my gaze back to the clock. If she doesn’t arrive in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to have to leave.

“You know, his real name ain’t Link.” Toby twists the controller in his hands as he lets off a barrage of gunfire.

“Of course not.” I pause before I ask, “So, what’s his real name?”

He shakes his head. “You wanna know, you gotta pay the price.”

Little extortionist.

“The price?” I raise a brow at him. “It’s not enough that I feed you, clothe you, and keep you safe? And how do you know his name?”

“Ivy let it slip once.”

She didn’t tell him intentionally. Again with the secrets. “So, what is it?” A computer-generated man’s head explodes on the screen, turning my stomach. “I’m not sure you should be playing this.”

“It’s fine,” he assures me. “All my friends have played it.”

“Oh, and I suppose if all your friends jumped off a cliff, you’d do it too?”

Yikes. Now, I sound like our mother. When the hell did that happen?

Probably around the same time you were left to raise two children on your own.

“You did not just say that.” The dismay in his tone makes me feel about two inches tall.

I shift my shoulders, adopting a lofty demeanour. “I did, and I wish I could take it back, but it’s out there now. You act like I’m ancient and know nothing. I was a kid not that long ago, you know?”

It’s like word vomit. There is no stopping it, and I clamp my teeth together to shut myself up before I really have to admit I sound like our mother.

“You ain’t ancient, but you are older than me,” he says smugly.

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