Page 7 of The Prodigal

“Hey!” Halle slaps my arm but laughs. “I don’t control him.”

My gaze drifts to the fish tank on the wall, where Halle’s lone goldfish swims in Vance’s newly-built home in Georgia. “Sure, you don’t, Hal.”

My father and uncles might be oblivious to the power their women hold, but I’m not.

No woman will ever influence my decisions like—

Arms wrap around my shoulders and squeeze. “I have something to show you.”

I let out a long and dramatic sigh at the only voice that brings out my softer side and shake the apple in my hand. “If it’s another naked picture of your husband, I’ll pass. I just ate.”

Her laughter sends pain through my chest. “Smartass.” But she kisses my cheek anyway and takes my hand without asking. “Come with me.”

I groan when the sounds of muffled titters and snorts go around the kitchen.

They know I’m full of shit.

One woman can influence my decisions, but it’sonlythis one.

My mother.

Myrealmother.

The mother who longed for me for eighteen years. The one who was told I died after I was born, only to find out my grandfathers had forged my parents’ names and put me up for adoption. It was this woman who sacrificed her entire future by agreeing to marry the devil to learn of my whereabouts. This woman is who everyone should aspire to be.

She’s fearless.

Brave.

And loves with her entire heart.

I’m not worthy of the kind of devotion she gives to those she loves.

But every day, I try to be the son she deserves—to some degree.

Even if that means enduring a few giggles from these man-bitches in this kitchen.

Agreeing to follow, I allow Ramsey Potter to lead me through the kitchen, but not before I chuck my apple at Vance, only missing him by an inch. I wave goodbye to my uncles with a flip of my middle finger—which only increases their laughter. Not my father’s, though. He leans against the counter, his face stoic, as usual, when he’s reminded of how long it took our family to get to this point.

I’m not an affectionate person.

I don’t love.

I don’t long.

I exist.

At least, I did until I found Vance and Halle. But it wasn’t until a year ago that I learned the youngest Potter brother, Duke, was my father—the same one I was told didn’t want me, which couldn’t have been further from the truth.

But it doesn’t matter now. My time with Duke and Ramsey Potter is coming to an end, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

“…call it a laterealbirthday present, but I couldn’t wait a moment longer to give it to you.” Apparently, I missed the first part of the conversation as my mother and I exit Vance’s house and cross over the manicured lawn to my parents’—sigh—newly-built house next door, an annoyingly convenient ten-minute drive from the college campus where I supposedly live.

As I said, I have no problem lying—especially when it’s for my family’s own good.

Ramsey opens the door, still pulling me behind her like I’m four and not nineteen. “I hope that wherever you’re taking me,” I drawl, “has ice for my shoulder.” I fake a grimace of pain, which Ramsey ignores.

I couldn’t be prouder of her lack of response.

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