Page 12 of Sweet Wicked Vows
I laughed maniacally because the absurdity of what I’d done truly set in. I nearly forgot about the piece I wrote, the very same piece where I used Jaxon as an example of sacrificing romantic relationships for success.
Not my finest work. I was just doing anything to be noticed during my freelancing years.
God, I hope Jaxon never read it, especially the part where Icalled him a typical lonely billionaire.
“What’s so funny?” My brother shuffled into the room. Dark rings circled his hazy eyes. His skin was pale, and his lips were in desperate need of water.
“Nothing,” I replied before Poppy got the chance to speak. She was too busy staring at me like twenty heads had sprouted from my neck. “You look like complete shit, by the way.”
“Thanks,” Flynn grumbled. “I feel like shit. Poppy, could you bring me a cup of coffee? Maybe Irish it up a little to help take the edge off this headache.” He slid onto the sofa beside me, his head resting back on the cushion. “Oh, and some painkillers, too. All of mine have mysteriously disappeared from my room.”
My jaw tensed.
Thankfully, Poppy left without a word. From the look we shared, she would be bringing him nothing except a glass of water and, hopefully, a slap on the back of the head for good measure.
“Dare I ask?” I clicked my tongue against the back of my teeth. “What happened this time?”
“Pal of mine invented some new app for your phone, something to do with online shopping and finding discounts for customers.” Flynn stifled a yawn. “Whatever it was, it exploded overnight. He turned his first quarter of a million in two days and has offers coming in left and right…”
Inhaling slowly, I tried to center my patience, to stop myself from reaching across and shaking whatever sense I could into him. “Get to the point, please.”
“He bought a yacht. We went on a sailing party. He’s planning to sail it around the Caribbean and wanted me to come with him for the journey.”
“Of course he did,” I scoffed. “And let me guess—you thought that was a splendid idea, huh? It’s not like you have responsibilities here or anything. Not like you have universityor a dad who is dying and is weeks away from announcing his retirement.”
“Evie…”
I raised my hand, cutting him off. “Don’t give me any of your shit excuses. I don’t want to hear your apologies this time. I don’t want to hear about how it’s difficult for you watching Dad die. I’m not sure if it’s occurred to you, but you are not the only one going through this.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?” I laughed without feeling. “While you were planning on sailing around the fucking world, snorting enough coke to kill an elephant and drinking yourself into oblivion while fucking anything with a pulse, who was here looking after Dad?”
My brother’s cheeks burned red.
“Would you have forgiven yourself if he died when you weren’t here? Would you ever be able to look at yourself knowing you were too busy chasing your next high while Dad took his final breath?” The wine turned bitter on my tongue. “You’re meant to be here, Flynn. For god’s sake, Dad needs you here.” I slapped my hand against my chest. “For crying out loud,Ineed you here.”
He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry.”
A twinge of guilt tightened around my heart. “The state Saunders brought you back in… Flynn, I can’t lose you, too. It’s not fair.”
“I fucked up.” He exhaled unsteadily. “There’s no excuse. I should have been here.”
Reaching across the sofa, I grasped my brother’s hand in mine.
“I’ll do better. University starts back up in September, I’ll get my shit together before going back,” Flynn said. “Starting fresh, I’ll be here for you and Dad. No more screwing around, I promise.”
I tried to smile against the weight crushing my lungs. Thiswasn’t the first time we had this sort of conversation, and I knew it wasn’t going to be the last. Flynn promised every time that he would stop. He promised to take things more seriously, to be there for me.
And every single time, he broke his promise.
Soon, he was all I was going to have left. Slices of panic cut through me. When Dad passed, I was going to be utterly and entirely alone.
“Do you think Poppy would cook us up some mac and cheese for dinner like when we were kids?” Flynn asked.
“The one with tiny pieces of sausage cut up in it?”
Flynn grinned. “Fuck yes. The best dish of all time in my opinion, especially when she puts red… wait a second.” He lifted my hand to his face. A line formed between his brows. “Why the hell do you have a wedding ring on your finger?”