A quiet breath escapes me, part sigh and part laugh, and the corner of my mouth twitches.
The highest tides in the world rise and fall here, carving the earth and swallowing the shore…
Yet it’s a fucking tree that gets me.
FIFTEEN
The sun iswarm on my face as I sit on the creaky front porch of Mom’s cabin, the shadows from surrounding trees starting to stretch across the weathered cedar siding. The branches are just starting to bud, but I’m pleased to see the alders are ahead of the rest. They always are the first to push through the harsh cold. I watch the branches sway gently in the breeze as I take a slow drag from my cigarette and let the smoke drift out across the duck pond at the foot of the yard.
The pond ripples in the breeze, the murky water reflecting the sky in broken patches between floating duckweed. A few of Mom’s half-wild ducks waddle along the mossy edge as they dip their heads in and out of the water, and a couple more flap across the yard towards the coop, chasing the chickens in the daily turf war none of them ever win. But my favourite duck, Wingnut, is right where he always is. Parked at my feet, letting out sharp quacks when the hens come too close, and lunging at them with his large white wings out like a fucking champion.
Pots and dishes clang inside as Mom bustles around the kitchen, and I rub my fingers over my eyes as I lean back in the wooden chair. I haven’t slept since I dropped Cade off at his place after the auction. After checking in at the clubhouse tomake sure the rest of the night went as planned, I came right here looking for sleep. But Mom insisted on making dinner.
The sound of tires crunching on gravel sounds in the distance, and my eyes snap to the long, winding driveway as my muscles tense. Eventually, that shitty fucking old Volvo appears through the trees and pulls up next to my bike. Heat rises up my neck as I grip the arm rest of the chair so tight that splinters sink into my skin.
Mom steps out the front door just as the engine cuts, barefoot as always, with a wide smile plastered on her face. Silver bracelets jangle down her wrist as she tucks a strand of sun-bleached hair behind her ear, and her whole body is practically humming with excitement. She plants herself on the porch like she’s waiting on a fucking gift basket instead of a goddamn disaster.
“What thefuck, Mom?” I ask, anger coiling tight in my chest, ready to blow.
“She’s your sister, Alder,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“I don’t fucking care,” I mutter, bringing my cigarette back to my lips as the driver’s door creaks open.
Maple steps out like she owns the place, and her sharp gaze cuts straight to mine with a glare that I’m sure would have most people shitting their pants. But I glare right back at her, daring her to just fuckingtryto start something.
Then the passenger side door opens, and my anger takes a backseat.
Because while I fucking loathe Maple, I’d do anything for Cedar.
My little sister is everything my older sister isn’t. Kind, bright, and soft in all the ways the rest of us never figured out how to be. She’s got a big heart, and she actuallyusesit. Overall,she’s just a good person. Which, in the Roy family, makes her a fucking unicorn.
A wide smile breaks across her face as she steps out of the car and spots me and Mom.
“Perfect.” I lean forward as I stub out my cigarette in the ashtray on the table beside me, then nod my chin at Maple. “Thanks for giving her a ride. You can go now.”
Cedar rolls her eyes and heads straight up the porch steps into Mom’s waiting arms while Maple slams her door shut and glares at me with fresh venom.
“Fuck off, Alder,” she seethes, then flips her long dark hair over her shoulder and turns to Mom with a sugary sweet voice that makes me want to throw up. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, my sweet love,” Mom coos, pulling her into a hug.
Sweet.Yeah fucking right.
I push to my feet and wrap Cedar in a hug, squeezing her until she giggles and something in me softens. I don’t get to see her much these days, now that she’s in university a couple hours away. But, luckily, she stays buried in schoolwork and whatever wholesome shit she does that keeps her from turning out like the rest of us.
As I pull back, I catch Maple staring at my cut with disdain written all over her face.
“Don’t fucking wear that here,” she snaps when she sees that I’ve noticed.
I smooth a hand over the worn leather and adjust it over my shoulders. “This club is the reason you’ve never had to get your hands dirty, no matter how fast you are to judge the people who did to keep you safe and comfortable.”
Her jaw clenches. “Tell that to Dad.”
Mom’s hand presses gently to my chest before I can do or say anything. White-hot rage is simmering under the surface, ready to explode, as Maple and I stare each other down.
“Come on,” Mom murmurs, stepping between us. She closes her eyes and lifts her hands, breathing deep like the whole forest is moving through her. “This is a place of peace, love, and family. Breathe in the trees, darlings. Let the roots hold you.” She reaches out and clasps each of our hands, her long patchwork dress swaying in the breeze as her bracelets clink, and the faint scent of patchouli hangs around her like a halo.
But Maple’s gaze still burns into me, and I’m doing everything I can not to head right for my bike and rip the fuck out of here.
