Page 53 of Deception & Daylight
“Who? Me? I would never.” He stalks towards me with single-minded focus until my back is pressed up against the wall. “So… Mama Lucy snagged herself a silver fox,” I say, puffing out my chest in defiance.
“Keep going and I’ll have to give you something better to do with that mouth.”
“Promises, promises.”
Before we can go any further, a throat clears, jolting us apart.
I turn my head, body still pressed up against the wainscoting, to find Matty scowling at us. “Why the fuck didn’t you call me?” he seethes. “Too busy with your little fuck toy to let me know my mother was in the hospital?”
Miles straightens his spine, pinning his brother with a glare. “Back the fuck up. You have no right to come in here and demand shit of me. Not after everything you’ve done.”
“No right? I’m your brother!”
“Where the fuck were you when our father snapped my arm in two places, Matt? Where was mybrotherthen?”
For the first time since I met the man, Matty appears almost dejected. His eyes travel around the room, looking anywhere but at his brother’s stony expression. Miles is putting on a show, but I don’t miss the slight tremble in his hands. Acting on instinct, I place my palm on his back, tracing soothing patterns along his spine. Soon, his shoulders relax and he looks down at me with something like awe in his expression as he tucks an errant strand of hair behind my ear. I give him a halfhearted smile, silently encouraging him to release his anger.
“Mom is on bedrest. She has a fractured hip and a concussion. I’m sure she’d love to see you,” hesays. Without another word, he tugs me along with him, straight out the front door.
Miles
I guide Mags to the porch swing, adjusting the pillows so she can sit between my thighs, resting her back against my chest. We sit like that for a while, just listening to each other breathe, until her soft voice fills the silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Resting my cheek on the top of her head, I inhale a steadying breath, prepared to share a part of my life very few people know about. “My father was… not a good man. When I was sixteen, our dad’s truck was stolen. The cops found it abandoned in a ditch. Matty didn’t have a license at the time, and he called me to pick him up. I urged him to tell someone what happened so we could mitigate the reaction, but he refused. Turns out Matt had stolen my license, and he’d left it behind in the passenger seat of the busted up truck. All evidence pointed to me.”
Maggie spins to face me, something unreadable etched across her features as she places her hand on my chest. I place my hand over hers to keep it there; it’s feels as though her touch is the only thing keeping my heart beating. “Dad was angrier than I’d ever seen him before. He damn near knocked my door off the hinges when he stormed into my bedroom. I denied the accusation, of course, but in his fucked up mind, the license was all the proof he needed. I just remember the cracking sound as he twisted my arm. The pain was… indescribable.”
A tear trails down her cheek, and I swipe it away with my thumb. “Don’t cry for me. It was a long time ago.” She’s been through enough; she doesn't need to take on my demons, too.
“You were just a kid, Miles.” Her bottom lip trembles as she holds back her tears. My kindhearted Maggie. Mom was right — she’s way too good for me, but fuck if I’m not a selfish asshole.
I pull her to me, resting my forehead against hers. Wrapped up in her familiar floral scent, my body instantly calms. As fucked up as it is, by that time, I’d already learned to live with his cruelty. Our lives carried on as if nothing happened.
If anyone asked, the broken arm was a product of the car accident that left my dad’s truck in a ditch. The doctors bought it — hook, line, and sinker — as they always did. Well-respected businessman William Barlow could do no wrong. I couldn’t bring myself to contradict his claim — my mom wouldn’t have survived the guilt.
Not wanting her to bear any more of the emotional weight of my past, I swiftly change the subject. “We should get ready for our date.”
She bites her bottom lip, and I have to tamp down the urge to tug it free. “After everything that’s happened, are you sure you still want to go?”
“Look at me, Mags.” When her glassy eyes meet mine, I instinctively cup her cheek in my palm. “Right now, there is nothing in this world I want more than to take you out in my truck, pull your body up against mine, and watch the sunset over the lake.”
Chapter 23
Mags
? You Should Probably Leave - Chris Stapleton
Ismooth my hands down the long, pastel floral skirt then fix the knot in the side of my plain white tee. The floral scent of my shampoo hits me as I adjust the clip sweeping half of my hair off my face, leaving the rest down in loose waves. After a quick glimpse in the mirror, I slip on my white sneakers and head down the stairs. Lucy is snuggled up on the loveseat in the sitting room with Dr. Nate, a tea tray propped on the coffee table. She glances at me through the double doors, smiling softly. I lift my hand in a wave, lingering long enough to see her rest her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh.
A gust of wind ruffles my hair when I step out onto the porch. Miles is standing at the end of the cobblestone walkway leaning against his black truck, ankles crossed, and muscled forearms bulging beneath a light blue henley as he scrolls absently on his phone.
I’m nearly suffocated by the sheer, unadulterated awe in his expression when he looks up at me. He looks at me like I’m something precious, and that thought is absolutely terrifying. But then he gives me that all too familiar smirk and all the tension dissipates. “Your chariot awaits,” he says, opening the passenger door.
“Such a gentleman.”
“For now.”The combination of his gruff voice and the promise of what’s to come sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through my veins as I climb into his truck.
Once I’m securely buckled in, he closes the door and hops into the driver’s seat. The radio blares to life, and he grimaces, scrambling to adjust the volume. “Sorry, I always forget to turn it down before I get out.”
