Page 10 of Broken Strings

“I dare you…” Layla trails off, searching for dramatic effect but only finding irritation from me, less than nothing from Caden and even less from Archer. “I dare you to swim to the mill and back. In under five minutes.”

Caden glances around, looking entirely put out by her request.

“My legs are tired—”

“Four minutes, fifty-nine. Fifty-eight. Fifty-seven…”

Despite his blown pupils, Caden drags himself to stand and tears off his sneakers, tossing them to the wilds before taking off at a pelt.

“Go on. You can do it, little bro.”

Archer’s voice rings out behind me as Layla moves off in the same direction as Cade.

Suddenly, it feels like the sun has disappeared behind clouds. My skin ripples with awareness.

With distrust—something I’ve never felt before in the vicinity of anyone in my found family. And I long for Caden’s return.

Instead, he’s just dived from the bank into the cool waters of the river, striking out for the mill half a mile downstream. Layla is right at the top of the bank, shouting for him to move his ass, when I feel Archer’s hand snake around my wrist.

A voice rings out over the intercom, and I physically jump out of my reverie, spilling my now-cold coffee over the side of my cup onto my shaking hand.

“American Airlines flight 6929 non-stop to London Heathrow is now boarding at Gate 22.”

I push all thoughts of that day from my mind. All the memories that are best left in the past. For now, at least.

Because all too soon, it’ll be time to relive them in vivid detail.

* * *

CADEN

“Daaaaaaaad.”

I smirk at my reflection in the mirror as my daughter, Bella, howls for my attention from somewhere in the house.

I call out in response, “Just one second, Bug.” Then I continue putting the last touches on my excessively accurate Joker costume.

It’s my little girl’s fourth birthday today, and in a style all her own, Bella has insisted on a superhero themed party. So, of course, the boys and I would bring our old costumes out of retirement.

I chuckle to myself in remembrance as I finish brushing the green hair dye through my chin-length blonde locks.

My sister Cassidy really nailed it the day she gave us DC characters’ nicknames, naming the boy's Batman and Robin, respectively, and yours truly, the inimitable Joker.

I’m excited for my boys to get here. My best friends, Henry DeMarco, CEO of DeMarco Holdings, the international entertainment giant, and Nathaniel Hawthorne, author and cradle-snatcher—that one is a bit of an inside joke after he fell in love with Henry’s nineteen-year-old sister, Mila, earlier this year—our relationship is more that of a family than mere friends.

I snort loudly at my cradle-snatcher thoughts, filing that insult away for future usage as I place the brush back on the countertop and give myself a once-over.

Henry had best rock up here as Batman and Nate as Robin—even though I know he hates playing the sidekick—or I’m going to blow a motherfucking gasket.

This little nod to our youth only works if we all do it.

I nod to my reflection and decide that todaywillbe an amazing day, repeating the mantra over and over before I stride from the bathroom, through the master bedroom, and down the hall in search of my Bug, humming a tune mindlessly as I go.

It doesn’t take long to track her down.

“I don’t want to, Rena. Can we go swimming first?”

I stand outside the door as she argues with her nanny, Serena.

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