With acid clawing its way up my throat, I reply, “Got it, sir.”
twenty-seven
LOCKE
Billie wasmy first best friend. Long before I realized best friends didn’t have to be siblings. I just got lucky they happened to be.
My little sister likes to poke her fun and get her jabs in, but she will always answer the phone when I call. Up until a few years ago, no one else understood how merciless being my father’s child was.
Then Grant came into the picture. We didn’t grow up with him, and getting to know him was a slow process, but there’s something about being a McCarthy that can’t be explained. You have to live it to know. And we know.
After being shoved back into my cowardly shell by my father, they were the two people I thought to call. Rosie could talk me out of any low place in my life, but right now, I just want my siblings.
Grant doesn’t stutter once when offering to pick us up. Billie doesn’t hesitate to skip class when we call her. Normally we’d be harsher on her academic choices, but we let this one slide.
The wind chill coasting along Boston Harbor forces me to tighten my gray coat and cross my arms impossibly tight. I’ve never been here during the fall. And never with family—real family. Already, being with them starts clearing my head.
My sister shivers, shrinking into her knitted sweater, and knocking her black boots across the leaf-littered sidewalk. Grant hands his extra coat to her and she mumbles in appreciation.
“Why are you wearing a skirt in the middle of November?”
She scrunches her red nose and folds the coat over herself. “I didn’t think I was going to be walking the harbor today.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Huffing, she kicks her foot. “I have stockings under, idiot. It’s not as cold as you think it is.”
“Your entire face is red.”
“Is this what you called me out here for?”
Billie rolls her eyes, but there’s a faint smile under her irritation. I laugh softly. Being with my siblings is something I’ll never take for granted. There are a handful of things I’ve endured because of my last name, but if being their brother is the pay off, then all of it was worth it.
Sighing, I remember it was those hardships that lead us out here. “I had a meeting with dad.”
“Shit.” Grant’s voice says over the crunching leaves beneath our feet. “Was it about the club?”
“What club?” Billie asks, and my eyebrows knit together.
“You haven’t seen it?”
“Seen what?”
I think she’s messing with me. Billie is on social media twenty-four seven. Her dream career is all about social media. I think she’d pour it into her veins if she could. I figured she was the first person to see it, and was just waiting for me to bring it up.
But her face is blank, shoulders shrugging. She hasn’t seen it.
That’s not normal.
“The video of me getting into an argument at a bar.”
“What?!”
Billie stops in her tracks, jaw dropping and hand slapping over her mouth. Grant throws a glance back at me. I think he feels it too. Even if he’s still learning about Billie, he can tell this is weird.
“Why don’t you know this?” My arms cross. The wind whips again, cold November air piercing every exposed inch of skin, but I ignore it. Too focused on my sister’s expression going from shock to defeat.
“Oh. Sorry.”
