Page 130 of Dark, Forbidden, & Taboo

But I was always his favorite target.

The unwritten rule of being the little sister meant that I was his verbal punching bag whenever he was having a bad day, and I took my lumps without complaining to anyone. When he got arrested, I felt relieved; which is such a shameful thing to admit, but I knew it meant the unnecessary barbs would stop for a while.

Four years went by much too quickly for me, though; I hope my brother has become a better man since he had to be caged to keep that wild boy who scorned the world under control for so long.

“What time?” I asked Dad with a heavy sigh.

There was no way I’d get out of this, so I knew it would just be better to agree to it.

“He should be arriving soon. The driver went with your mother to pick him up about an hour ago and after we’ve had a nice supper, we’ll send you both on your way,” he replied cheerfully.

“And if he doesn’t want to go with me? I’m not exactly his favorite person,” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest.

“He will if he wants a place to sleep,” Dad replied in a snipped tone, and I sighed again.

There’s no telling Charles Winstead anything different once a gentle suggestion—as he calls them—has been set in stone. I guess his no nonsense bullshit explained why he was such a successful oil tycoon.

Granted, it was handed down to him by Grandpa, but he’s even more ruthless when it comes to trades and his corporation than Grandpa ever was.

It made sense to me that his only son rebelled when he saw what was coming to him. He was the rightful heir to Winstead Industries and wanted nothing to do with it.

Now it’s my damn problem, but I don’t want it either.

I just don’t know how to tell my parents.

However, since I didn’t have any children—being only nineteen myself—and Rogan obviously hadn’t had the chance to knock anyone up yet, one of us had to be responsible for running the proverbial empire.

“What do you think he’s like?” I asked Dad thoughtfully.

“Probably the same, only more of an adult,” he replied dismissively.

I stole a glance at him and stifled a giggle when I saw the apprehension written all over his normally confident face.

Dad and Rogan ended up on worse terms after he got arrested if that’s even possible. They never really did get along, though. Both considered themselves to be the man of the house and constantly butted heads over who’s dick was bigger, so to speak.

Chapter

Two

"We’re back!”

I did my best not to shudder at the forced cheerfulness in Mom’s tone. It was obvious by the way she sounded they may have had some differences on the way back to the family home. Of course, knowing Mom, she’d be more worried about someone seeing her ex-con son strolling through the front door.

Appearances are very important to her, and Rogan lost points with Mom when he got arrested.Honor thy mother and father, but fuck the kids,seems to be her way of thinking these days.

I rarely come over anymore.

Phone calls or emails are just fine by me, and while I know Rogan and I rarely got along, I thought if he saw at least one semi-cheerful Winstead to see him, he’d be okay. Even though I’ve been dreading this moment, it’s us against them and I have to stand by his side.

I sat in the living room with Dad, hands firmly clasped in my lap to keep them from shaking and waited as patiently as I could. Mom walked in first looking frazzled and it took everything inside of me not to smile. Greta Winstead never looks anything less than perfect, which means Rogan did a number on her on the way back.

His way of getting to Mom and Dad has always been simple.

Stone cold silence.

Nothing makes anyone feel more irrelevant than being ignored, Hunter.

It stuck with me ever since he explained his way of dealing with our parents; every now and again, I find myself doing the same thing.

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