“Oh my god,” I say in wonder. “There are two of you.”
“You didn’t know?” asks Grandma in surprise.
I just shake my head. I mean, my mind is blown. How does the world even handle two of them walking around causing such chaos?
Nash pauses to spit out more blood. “Junebug, this is my twin brother, Angus. He won’t be staying. Ugly as sin, isn’t he?”
“He can stay with me,” says Grandma without hesitation.
“Can’t believe you called him,” grouses Nash.
Her chin comes up. “You’re not the only who knows how to work a phone. And it’s time you two sorted this out. It’s been four years, for heaven’s sake.”
Angus gives me a brief nod. His gaze dropping to my bare legs before shifting elsewhere. Then he strips off his tee and wads it beneath his still-bleeding nose. Muscles run in the family along with musical talent, apparently. The tattoos, however, are only on one of them, and it is not the man who holds my heart.
My eyebrows are as high as can be. “How did I not know about this?”
“I don’t tend to talk about my family,” says Nash. “And I had the beard all those years, so we looked different.”
“You told me the beard was about stage fright.”
He shrugs. “It was mostly that.”
“Angus used to be the one with short hair,” says Charlie. “And he tended to avoid the media, so he’s not as well known.”
“The main differences are he’s a show pony, who’s chickenshit scared of needles and doesn’t play the guitar anywhere near as well as me.” Angus also speaks differently. His tone is slightly lower and rumbling with a different cadence. Like his outlook on the world is a more serious and sober thing in general. There’s none of the smooth of Nash’s voice.
“What utter bullshit.” Nash scowls. “How’s your nose feeling?”
“About as good as your eye.”
And the brothers glare at each other. This is ridiculous. I wave a finger at them and say, “Don’t even think about it. Both of you keep your hands to yourself.”
“So I can still kick him?” asks Nash. “That’s what you’re telling me?”
My answering expression is one of great pain.
“Would you like some breakfast and clothes, Dear?” asks Grandma, who has apparently also had enough of the brothers fighting.
“Yeah,” I say. “Thanks.”
Grandma gives the two men a long look. “You can come and get some ice packs for your faces if you promise to behave.”
Nash sighs. “I want to stay and hit you some more, but I have to make Junebug her morning coffee.”
Angus just grunts.
I don’t know if The Bend can handle both of the Porter brothers. Though I guess we’re going to find out.
“That has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” says Angus over bacon, eggs, and toast. Charlie is in charge of frying while Nash does the toast. “Everything you did made sense, June. And it would’ve worked aside from Lady Caroline sticking her nose into it. But why would you add babies?”
“It did complicate things,” I say.
Nash watches me through his one good eye. The other is blackened and swollen. “My heart! How could you take his side?”
“I completely understand you wanting to annoy Carrie. She’s a horrible person. Just the worst.” I shrug. “And to be fair, the record company did give me a free luxury midsize SUV. It wasn’t all bad.”
“There you go,” says Nash.
