Page 8 of Tempt Thy Neighbor

I want to remind her that it was my father who made it abundantly clear I was no longer welcome in the family.

But I know that likely won’t go over well.

“What’s best for me isn’t always what you want, Mother.”

She inhales sharply, and just like that, her switch is flipped.

“You are such an ungrateful, spoiled brat. Your father has worked hard to build a life for you and youwillapologize to him or I promise you, you’ll regret it. You’re—”

“An embarrassment and good for nothing?” I snort. “Yeah, I’ve heard it all before. But I’m done listening to this, and I’m hanging up now.”

She gasps, and it’s the last thing I hear before I end the call, not feeling the least bit of remorse.

I’ve been who they wanted me to be my entire life. I played the sports they wanted me to play. I had the friends they wanted me to have. I’ve spent the last five years running myself into the ground working for them when I’d rather be anywhere else. I have let them rule my life and get away with too much. Sure, I’ve fucked up a time or two, but that’s no reason for them to despise me like they do…like they always have.

I’m not the heir to the Barnes empire. I’m the spare, and they have no use for spares in my world.

Even as I sit here knowing my future is looking grim, I feel damn good about being out from under their thumb. For the first time in a long time, I feel free, and I can’t remember the last time I had a taste of freedom.

I take a sip of my black coffee, letting the caffeine work its magic as I glance around the diner I’ve been coming to over the last three days.

For a Thursday morning, the place is pretty packed. It’s littered with old train and railroad artifacts hanging on the walls. Makes sense since the building was clearly once a train depot.

When I asked where I could grab a bite to eat, the clerk at the hotel looked at me like I was nuts and told me there was no other place in the city that had breakfast as good as The Gravy Train.

So, here I am, sitting alone for breakfast for what might be the first time in my life, contemplating what I’m going to do next.

It’d be so easy to just call my father, make amends, and be peaceful for the next six months to get access to my trust fund, but I’m stubborn, and I’d rather not stoop that low.

I’m not that desperate…yet.

It’s weird. On one hand, I feel relieved. On the other…well, I’d never admit this to anyone because I’m pretty sure I’d be called a total pussy, but I’m scared.

I’ve never been on my own like this before, never not had my family name to fall back on.

When I saw my bags sitting in the hallway, I didn’t even bother calling my friends. They know better than to invite me into their humble abodes. An ousted Barnes sleeping on their couch? The whole town would have a conniption.

Instead, I loaded up my car and headed north to Harristown, Colorado, where my Aunt Alma lives. I haven’t spoken to her in months, but I figured if there’s anyone else who’ll understand the position I’m in and could offer some advice, it’s her.

“I never did like it when you frown.”

Speak of the devil…

Just hearing her voice makes me smile.

I push off of my stool, coming around the table to wrap my arms around my tiny aunt who stands nearly a foot shorter than me. She squeezes me back tightly, and the familiar scent of baked goods wafts into my nose.

“Damn, I’ve missed your hugs, Aunt Alma.”

She chuckles, pulling back. “You just missed the way I smell like chocolate chip cookies all the time.”

“That too.” I wink. “Thank you for making time for me this morning.”

She rolls her eyes. “Make time for my favorite nephew? Please, like that was hard.” I push my open laptop to the side as she slips onto the stool opposite me, pushing her sparkling purple sunglasses to the top of her head. “How you been, kid?”

When I arrived in town a few days ago, I thought about calling up my aunt right away. Maybe asking to bum a spot on her couch.

But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Even though I know she wouldn’t have turned me away and would have welcomed me into her home without a question, that stubbornness I inherited from my dad reared its head.

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