Page 4 of Mask and the Magnolia

My pussy of a father is chatting up the son of the old timer who owns this house. I haven’t seen my dad act like this before but I swear he’s actually flirting and trying to be cute with him. It’s almost like he has a crush on this Bryce Harden douchebag, and it’s just as curious as it is gross. Especially considering my mother disappeared with Charles, Bryce’s dad, a few hours ago and is most likely letting that ancient fucker rail her in some dark corner.

I roll my eyes as I watch for a few more seconds, horrified by the idea of my parents tag teaming a father son duo, then shift to the group by the pool.

Apparently this group of assholes is the next generation of Harden Ranch.

Five sons, their ages ranging from mid thirties to a couple years older than me, and while I’m sure it pays to be in whatever business they’re in, looking at them has me wondering how long these dumbasses are going to keep it going when their pops squared are gone.

Alan is the oldest.

The oldest, the fattest, the baldest, and seemingly the stupidest, but he has a look about him like he’ll literally do anything to take over this company and make the kind of money the generations before him have.

After him is a set of twins, Jeremy and Joseph, and one look told me these dickheads are the ones supplying whatever the hell drugs the guards are eating on a regular basis.

I am not a small guy, I’m pretty big for seventeen, but holy shit tweedle dumb and tweedle dipshit are so roided out they can’t put their fucking arms down. And all they’ve done since dinner ended is psych each other up over nothing rooted in reality, bumping their chests and screaming into each other’s faces, then disappearing for random twenty minute intervals before walking out looking like they took a nosedive into a bag of cocaine.

A high pitched giggle has my gaze wandering toward the pool again, just in time to see Walker, the youngest son, toss their little sisters into the water, letting out a maniacal laugh before he jumps in after them.

He’s ok.

Walker is nineteen, getting ready to go into his second year of college, and he comes off as the most grounded fucker in the bunch. Which makes sense. Maisie told me he’s a beta. A big beta from my experience, but a beta nonetheless, and that’s absolutely why he’s not a raging asshole like his older brothers.

“I said no,” the biggest and most dangerous of said assholes, Wilder, barks at his mother as they come storming out of the back of the house. “There’s no goddamn reason to heat the barns, not when the livestock in them is worthless.”

I frown as I watch him march across the yard, Camilla trying desperately to keep up, almost pleading whatever case she’s making as they get further out of earshot.

I don’t like him.

I don’t like any of them, not really, but Wilder has a vibe that I really don’t fucking like.

His vibe is similar to mine, and that’s why I don’t like it. I know what I’m capable of, what I enjoy doing, and if that motherfucker is running around with the same sort of aura, then he’s bad fucking news. Especially since he doesn’t seem to give a shit about anyone. I have Maisie, she keeps me human.It doesn’t look like that asshole has anyone to do that, which means he’s a loose cannon with no reason to stay loaded.

“Vinny?”

Pulling my gaze away from the strange scene in front of us, I turn to my sister with a smile. “What’s up, Moo Moo?”

She rolls her eyes at my nickname but I can see her smile. “I’m thirteen, Vin. I don’t want you to call me that anymore.”

“Sure thing, Moo.”

“Korvin,” she huffs, trying to scold me before she dissolves into a fit of embarrassed giggles. “Can you at least not call me that when we’re out in public?”

“Okay, Mais.”God, when did she get so grown up?“What do you need?”

“I have to pee.”

“Congratulations?”

Maisie nudges me. “I have to pee, Vinny, and I don’t know where the bathroom is.”

Getting to my feet, I hold out my hand and help my sister out of her lawn chair, my stare shrewd as I scan the crowd again.

Teenage siblings don’t generally hold hands, I know that, and I’m not a huge fan of it, but everything about this feels wrong and I’ll be goddamned if I let my sister feel the effects of whatever the hell is going on.

From the second we walked in, shit has been weird.

Grandpa Harden made a production out of giving us a tour of the big ass house, talking at length about the additional wing they’re still building for theever growing family.He didn’t shut up about that, the fact that his daughter-in-law is pregnant, expecting their eighth kid and the sixth boy who’ll inherit part of the family business.

I still don’t know what that is, but it doesn’t really matter since I don’t actually give a shit.

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