The women, of course, were on Aria’s side, though I could imagine it was difficult for Birdie to let her baby fly the coop.
Bickering broke out between Aria and West, Crew, and Lane, but a deep, calm, authoritative voice cut off the argument.
“I set up a trust for her.”
All heads swiveled to Owen.
“Youwhat?” Lane asked incredulously.
“Why the fuck didn’tweget trusts?” West whined.
“God, you’re annoying,” his twin said, shaking his head, and I bit back a chuckle.
“You idiots”—Owen wagged his fork at his brothers—“were all teenagers when Dad died. Old enough to fend for yourselves. Aria wasn’t, and I wanted to make sure she was taken care of. With Dad gone, we had no fucking idea what the future would look like, and I don’t think you all realize how close we came to losing everything, even with my help.”
West looked at Birdie. “Is that true, Mama?”
Birdie nodded solemnly. “He helped, but only so much. Ihatedthat time, when my twenty-year-old son was forced to take care ofmychildren.” Her voice cracked, and I stared longingly at the door, wondering if I could disappear without anyone noticing. This was not a conversation I needed to be part of.
“Nobody forced me to do anything,” Owen said.
Crew asked his mom, “Did you know about the trust?”
“Not until she turned eighteen and could access it.”
“So you’ve just been sitting on this pile of money for six years?” Finn asked his sister, his tone conveying he was impressed.
Aria nodded proudly. “I used some of it to buy recording equipment, software, and a new guitar, and I asked Owen to help me invest some of it, but otherwise, I haven’t touched it. It’s only for emergencies.” She glared at Lane, West, and Crew in turn. “So despite your complete lack of faith in me, I’ll be fine. I already have a job lined up at a bar on Broadway.”
“You’ve never bartended a day in your life,” West protested.
“God, would you just shut the fuck up about it already?” Aria exploded, rising to her feet, dishes jumping as her knees knocked the edge of the table. “You’re not going to talk me out of leaving. I’m twenty-four. More than old enough to make my own decisions, and your position on the matter will not change them. Either get on board, or stay the fuck away from me.”
With that, she stormed from the room.
I knew her dissenting brothers meant well, that they only wanted to keep their baby sister safe—especially after what had happened last summer when Reagan had been dealing with a stalker who mistook Aria for her. But as a woman who had always been more independent than my family appreciated, I was proud of Aria for sticking to her guns and doing what she wanted to do. These Lawless men could be overbearing as hell, but she hadn’t backed down or cowered.
Long, tense moments of silence passed before Birdie ultimately broke it.
“For once again giving your sister grief about her move, you two”—Birdie pointed at Crew and West—“can clean up.”
“What about him?” Crew protested, hooking a thumb at Lane.
Lane wiggled his left arm, a dumb move, he quickly realized, when he winced. “Bro, I just got shot.”
“But you better believe, dear boy,” Birdie said to him, standing up but bending to press a kiss to the top of his head, “if you weren’t injured, you’d be washing dishes right alongside them.”
Lane hung his head, sufficiently admonished, and this time, I couldn’t hold back my laughter.
His gaze snapped to mine, eyes wide in surprise, as though he’d forgotten I was here.
The room filled with the cacophony of clinking dishes and West and Crew’s mumbled annoyances. With the attention from his family off him, I dug into my bag and withdrew the little wrapped box.
Handing it over to Lane, I said quietly, “Happy birthday.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said, though his finger instantly slipped under the paper to free it.
My cheeks heated. I hadn’t expected him to open it here, and now I was terrified of his reaction.
