This is not the first time my mother has had to save me from the cold hand of the law. The first time she picked me up from the police station was when I was fourteen. I had way too much to drink and wrecked my bike into a car that was stopped at a red light. Less than a year later, I got into a fight on the beach and ended up bloodying some kid’s nose.

There was another time she had to get my father involved because my fuckup was so bad that it could only be remedied by close to a million dollars. I was immediately sent back to boarding school. It’s like neither of them could even look at me, and I never blamed them for that until I realized just how awful they were in their own right. I fucked up bad. I should have been sent to juvie or hell, even prison. Sometimes, I wonder who I’d be if they had made a different decision. If they had let me face the consequences of my actions. I’ll never know because I had the good fortune to be born into an insanely powerful and obnoxiously rich family.

Somehow, my mother looks at me with more disdain in her eyes than the time I killed someone. Like, somehow, being caught fornicating with Addison on a plane is worse than taking someone’s life, unintentionally or not. The judgmental glares are even worse because she’s not driving, so it’s not like she has to pay attention to the road. She just stares blankly at me like she’s trying to relay some message without saying a word.

The poor driver of hers must have seen and heard the most depraved shit. I can’t imagine how much she has to pay him to keep him on the payroll for the last decade.

Addison sits beside me in the back of the car and for once in her life, she is speechless. I know it’s not the shame of getting caught being fucked on a plane that’s rendered her silent. She has nothing to say in the presence of my mother. That, or she knows she’s been caught red handed.

The look in her eyes in the bathroom told me all that I needed to know. She’s not pregnant and she never was. I have no plans of telling anyone anytime soon. The last thing I want, or need, is everyone in this God forsaken place to look at me like an idiot after making the very public announcement that Addison is expecting. I’ll just have to wait for the right time to make a strategic announcement that she suffered a miscarriage.

In the meantime, she can rot in that shitty motel of hers.

I’m not a complete monster. When it comes to Addison, I’d even say I have a sort of weak spot for her. I wanted to wait until she was done grieving the loss of her friend before questioning her about my suspicions from the night at the hospital. She has proven though that she is not to be trusted. At least my parents are somewhat upfront with how terrible they are. Addison likes to pretend like she’s some innocent angel.

The driver pulls into the gravel parking lot of the motel but stays right on the side of the road. It’s almost as if my mother thinks she’ll catch cooties from getting too close. Addison gets out of the car without saying a word but as soon as the door closes, my mother all of a sudden has a lot of things to say.

She clears her throat first. “All eyes are on this family for a multitude of reasons.”

“It’s not my fault that guy was murdered in your house,” I point out flatly as I watch Addison meander towards her destination, the front door of her motel room.

“I think you’re a little naïve to think that, but that’s beside the point.”

I cock my eyes to meet her gaze in the rearview mirror. “You think I had something to do with that?”

“I said that’s beside the point. I thought this thing with that whore was a fling, and so did everyone else. Now that you’ve opened your mouth about her being pregnant, people won’t stop asking me questions.” She clears her throat and looks out the window. “I really hope your father can keep this latest scandal out of the paper. We look like fools.”

* * *

As soon as we enter the front door of the mansion, mother heads for the kitchen, presumably to open a bottle of liquor. Fortunately for me, my father is waiting for me at the base of the towering stairs in the foyer. He’s dressed in his best business attire like he’s been ripped out of an important business meeting on a Sunday.

I groan as I drag my palm over my eyes. “I just had an awful conversation with Mother, so if you have something else to add to that, save it because I’m not interested.”

He steps to me, close enough that I’d be forgiven for having the impression that he’s trying to square up. “If we both have a frank talk with you, then maybe it’ll get through that thick skull of yours.”

“That thick skull is hereditary. Don’t pretend like I’m the only stubborn person in this family. Hell, I’d wager that I’m the least stubborn. Have you all met yourselves? You’re all pricks.”

“I get the sense that you think this is all funny.”

Yeah, it’s funny. It’s funny that everyone wants to pile on me for my mistakes, but can’t look at their own reflections in the mirrors. My father runs around this town screwing anyone that will give him the time of day. It’s not even a secret. Everybody knows about it, but it’s always the kids that have to take responsibility when they fuck up. No wonder Emily left this fucking house.

He scratches at the scruff of his beard. “What were you even doing in North Carolina anyways?”

“Do I have to explain myself to you?”

He raises his voice. “I’ll be the one that gets your dumb ass out of this mess. The least you can do is tell me why you were even down there in the first place.”

“Because Addison knew that boy that was murdered in your house,” I say without thinking too much about the implications. “So, I went with her to the funeral because it didn’t seem right to make her go alone.”

“That boy was trouble.”

“How can you say that when you didn’t even know him?”

He pauses, almost like he’s trying to ready some bullshit. His tactics might work on everyone else, but they don’t work on me. I’ve been subjected to it for far too long. So, the longer the pause, the more I’ve come to learn that he’s not telling the truth. “There’s not a person that comes into this house that I don’t know.”

He’d only arrived five minutes before he was killed. It’s not like my father had proper time to run a background check on him or anything. It hits me that Addison might be right about my father being involved. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it doesn’t make sense for him to say these things if Asher was a complete stranger.

“What did you do, Dad?”