Lucas : A Preston Brothers Novel (Book 1)(8)

Silence filled the room… the video game now paused. I felt four pairs of eyes on me, watching, waiting, and the only sounds that broke the silence were my sniffles as I tried to keep it together.

By the time I found the courage to look up, I was met with Kathy’s tear-stained face. But it wasn’t her who spoke the words which would later define me. It was Luke. “I’m sorry, Laney,” he said, his voice shaking. I refused to look at him, but I felt him stand, felt him come closer until he was sitting on the couch next to me, his hand reaching for mine. “I’m sorry that your mom makes you feel like that because you are good enough. For me. For all of us. And if she doesn’t want you as family then it’s her loss, because now—now you’re a part of ours. Right, guys?”

“Right,” Leo agreed, while Logan shouted, “Your mom’s an ugly, smelly bitch.”

He was eight.





Chapter Five





LUCAS





“You can go now,” Laney says, sitting back in the car, the engine idle. “You have time.” She’s looking between the seats and onto the road behind us. I’m looking at her. We should drive, but I can’t. I don’t want to pressure her to talk, but I can’t leave until I know what’s happening because I know it can’t be good. Anything to do with her mother ends in her misery. Sometimes it lasts days, sometimes weeks. And I feel as though I need to plan my next move more than I need my next breath.

I comb my fingers through my hair, pleading words filtering in and out of my mind too fast, and I don’t know what to say.

“Luke?”

I don’t bother sparing her feelings. “What the fuck did she want? Why was she here?”

She blinks hard, probably trying to find a response that’ll both satisfy me and keep my mind at peace. I don’t want any of those things. I just want the truth. I raise my eyebrows, relentless. I’ll sit here and I’ll wait for however long it takes for her to speak. Seconds tick by, then she inhales deeply, her words rushed when she says, “When I was younger and my parents were still together, my dad set up a bank account for me.” She’s not looking at me. Not at my eyes, anyway. She’s fixed on my t-shirt, at the faded Nike logo across the chest. “It was supposed to be a college fund.” She swallows. Once. Twice. “For the past few years, we’ve been putting money in there and saving. I guess when Dad set it up, he thought the bank required both signatures to withdraw any money…” Her voice breaks and she looks up at me, her eyes wide, the shape and color of almonds.

I know where this is going, but I don’t want to admit it as much as she doesn’t want to say it, and so I say, hoping, praying she says yes, “So you need you and your dad to sign?” She shakes her head, and my chest tightens. I’ve heard enough of Laney’s stories about her mom to know what she’s capable of. The shakiness in my exhale reveals my fear. “This is bad, isn’t it?” I mumble, moving closer to her.

We’re supposed to have four more years. Ever since we visited Lucy and Cameron at UNC a couple of years ago, this was our dream. We were going to do it together. My athletic scholarship was a sure thing because I worked my ass off to get it. I pushed away other offers. I wanted UNC because Lane wanted it. Because we walked around campus, her hand on the crook of my elbow while she pointed out where she’d be sitting when she sipped her coffee. Or where she’d hide out at three in the morning trying to study because her crazy roommate she’d already named Sasha listened to death metal and dealt ecstasy from their messy, tiny dorm room. She stood at the exact spot where she said I’d one day pass out drunk, but not before sending her cryptic text messages to find me because I’d just beaten a state record in the hundred-meter sprint and had celebrated a little too hard with my teammates.

UNC was our dream.

Our future.

After clearing her throat, she tells me, “When Dad got back on his feet financially, he looked into the account and saw that it hadn’t been touched, which to him meant that she probably forgot about it. And I guess she did. Until she wanted to switch banks. So when she went to close out all accounts, they must have mentioned my college fund and she—”

“No.” I mentally block my ears. “Don’t say it.”

“She took all the money, Luke.”

I blow out a breath, my cheeks puffing with the force of it. “And it’s all gone?” I ask hesitantly.

“She used the money to pay for an in-ground pool in her house that my dad paid for, to be enjoyed by her new husband and his kids.”

My fists ball, but I keep my anger in check. For her. “And she wanted to what? Rub it in your face?”

“Not mine,” she says, her voice a whisper. “Dad’s.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I hate her.”

“Me too.”

I reach over and cover her hand with mine. “So what does that mean?”

“I don’t get to go to college.”

“I fucking hate her,” I repeat, my heart pounding.

She says, again, “Me too.”

After moments of silence, I ask, “Are you going to tell your dad?”

“Eventually, yeah.”

I’m holding her hand now, my fingers laced through hers, my grip tight.

She adds, staring down at our joined hands, “Dad’s just so happy at the moment with Misty and everything, and I don’t want to crush his spirit.”

“And break his heart,” I murmur.

“My mom’s already done that.”

My eyes meet hers, her frown causing my own.

“We’ll still see each other, right?” she asks. “When you come home for holidays?”

“It won’t be the same,” I tell her.

She sighs. Then a slight smile breaks through. “I’m going to miss seeing your ugly face every day.”

“Shut up. You love my face.”

Her eyes roll. “Yeah, it’s like looking into the sun.”

“So beautiful it hurts?” I ask, unable to contain my smirk.

“Blindingly painful.”

“You like me,” I tease.

“I tolerate you,” she retorts.

I inhale deeply, my smirk fading. There’s a shift in the air—thick and overwhelming. “So we only have a year,” I murmur. I lean in closer, so close my breath fogs her glasses. Her eyes drift shut the moment my lips find her temple.

She’s too much.

She’s everything.

“I’m sorry, Lane,” I whisper. “About UNC. About your mom. I should’ve been there for you, just like you’ve always been there for me.”





PAST | LOIS





I felt the sincerity in the Preston boys’ declaration to be part of their family, and I carried that with me through the following months. I’d gotten even closer to Lucas and became friends with Leo and Logan because we attended the same school. I even attempted to make friends with Dumb Name so Luke didn’t feel like he had to split his time between us.

When Kathy announced that she was pregnant (again), I was there, sitting between Luke and Leo on the couch with the rest of the Preston kids scattered around the living room. I squealed and wrapped my arms around Kathy and Tom.

Later that day, while Luke pushed me around the merry-go-round at the playground, he teased me about my reaction. “It’s exciting!” I giggled. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Not really,” he said, using both hands to push the bars, his legs moving quicker, spinning me faster. “It’s my fourth pregnancy announcement. Fifth baby. I was kind of expecting it.” Then he jumped on while it was still moving and sat down next to me, his gaze on the sky, my gaze on him.

“Luke?”

“Yeah.”

“Your parents must have a lot of—”

“Shut up!” he shouted, his hand quick to cover my mouth, muffling my final word.

I smiled against his palm, and he must’ve felt it because he smiled back. Then suddenly, he leaned forward, his lips puckered. He kissed the back of his hand—the hand covering my mouth. When he pulled back, his eyes were huge. He dropped his hand quickly and looked away. I touched my lips and wondered what it would feel like to have him kiss me. If it felt anything like I felt then, it was going to blow my mind. I lay on my back, looking up at the dull gray sky, and even though the merry-go-round had lost its momentum and was barely moving, my mind was spinning and the world had never seemed so bright.

When I got home, I hugged my dad like I’d never hugged him before. “What’s this?” he asked, hands on my shoulders when I finally let him go.

“I just love you.”

“Me?”

“And I love it here. Thank you for finding this place.”

His beard shifted, revealing his smile. “So you’re happy here?”

I nodded. “The happiest.”

It was all true. Meeting the Prestons, spending time with Kathy, meeting Lucas, it changed my outlook, my life.

I felt worthy.

I finally felt like I was enough.

Especially when baby Lachlan was born and Kathy asked me to be his godmother. There was no official ceremony, but the title stood.

I remember sitting at my desk and writing a letter to my mom—a letter I would never send. It told her that I loved my life. That I loved my new home. That I loved my decision to leave with Dad. And that I was happy and I was loved.