Snare (Falling Stars #3) (10 page)

Standing, I walk the bowl to the kitchen and wash it along with the other dishes.

A ping and vibration draw my attention to Xavier's cell phone on the counter. Picking it up, I see text messages flashing in rapid succession.

"Um, your phone's working," I announce, holding it in the air.

He straightens from the floor and walks with quick steps.

"What do they say?" he asks, before reaching me and the phone.

"I didn't read them," I answer, furrowing my brow.

He takes the phone and swipes the screen.

"Is cell service back?" I know I sound way too excited, but it does give me a lady boner.

He shakes his head.

"Then, how are you—?"

"Wi-Fi's working." Seriousness laces his words and worry lines his face.

Keeping silent, I go upstairs and retrieve my Surface tablet. I bring it back to the main level, pull up my free text app, and check in with my mom and Liza.

"He did what?" Xavier's shout startles me.

Looking up, I see him pacing across the room, the satellite phone against his ear. I try to return to my texting, but the next thing I overhear brings my attention back to him.

"Did he get arrested?" His hand runs through his reddish-blond hair.

Instead of finishing the text to Liza, I focus on his conversation.

Yep, I'm a nosy bitch.

"Well," he sighs and continues, "at least they aren't pressing charges."

He nods, agreeing with someone on the other end of the phone.

"Thanks, man. Keep me updated. Use this number, I'm at the cabin."

More silent nodding.

"Later, Red."

He pulls the phone from his ear and starts dialing again.

Feeling the weight of my stare, he glances in my direction as he puts the phone back to his ear. "Let me make this call and then I'll give you the phone."

"Hey, how's—?" he starts, before stopping short.

"When?" he asks, his question strained.

He paces faster, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'll get down the mountain," he clips. "You expect me to stay up here while she's—"

Feeling like an intruder, I take my Surface and quietly descend to the bottom level of the house.

I step onto the lush carpeting and my eyes immediately go to the bar. There's no sign of the broken glass or blood. I'm not sure why I expected it to still be there.

Settling onto the ugly green couch, I'm surprised by how comfortable it is. I lounge back into the seat cushions, bring my tablet out of hibernation, and find text responses from my mother—a lot of them.

The first starts off with the normal mom tone, happy to hear from me, glad I'm checking in, blah, blah. Then, they turn in a new direction and it sends fire through my veins. The last text sends me over the edge of sanity.

Paul broke into your apartment. Your father knows everything and demands you place a restraining order on him when you return. We love you.

I toss the tablet onto the floor, not caring if the thing ever works again, cover my face, and scream into my palms. Raking my fingers over my face, my eyes focus on the bar in the corner.

I climb off the couch, stalk to it, grab the first bottle of gold liquid, uncap, and drink.

"Fuck, that's gross," I gasp to the empty room, slamming the bottle down onto the shiny dark wood surface.

That fucking tiny cock, lying, twat nugget broke into my apartment.
I take another drink, feeling the same gasp-inducing burn.

Releasing the bottle, I step back from the bar, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. I take one more step back and my legs bump into a mini fridge. Inside, I find beer. I grab one brown bottle, twist off the cap, and gulp.

After several gulps, I break my lips from the bottle opening, panting for air. With a lick on my bottom lip, I snag the golden liquor bottle with my right hand and carry it and the beer back to the couch.

Plopping back on the seat, I alternate between liquor and beer.

So focused on drinking and my revenge plotting, I don't see Xavier until he speaks.

"You've got the right idea." He puts his hand out toward the liquor bottle.

"Get your own," I mumble, bringing the bottle to my mouth.

It disappears from my lips and out of my hand.

"Hey," I whine, "I'm finally used to the burn."

"Yeah, well, this is my favorite tequila, so you're sharing," he says before taking a long pull from the half full bottle.

The couch shifts when he drops down next to me.

Toeing my tablet on the floor, he asks, "Bad news?"

"I could ask you the same," I retort, and chug the last of the beer.

"My life is a bit of a mess at the moment," he admits.

I nod and sigh heavily. "I feel ya, Xave. I feel ya."

Keeping my eyes on the wall across from where we sit, I extend my arm out in front of him, snap my fingers, and let my open palm hover in expectation.

He puts the bottle in my hand and I immediately bring it to my mouth.

The couch jostles as he stands, goes to the bar, grabs two more bottles, and returns to the couch.

"My bandmate almost went to jail tonight," he says with a humorless laugh. "He caused a scene in the middle of an art gallery and destroyed some property."

Shaking his head, he twists a cap off the new bottle and tosses it across the room. It pings off a wall, darts off the side of the bar, and lands next to a small trash can in the corner. He tips the bottle back and drinks.

"If you would've made that, I might have been impressed enough to show you my boobs," I blurt, my barely-there filter disappearing as fast as the alcohol.

Xavier sprays the alcohol out of his mouth, coughing hard.

"You can't," he pauses to hack liquid from his lungs, "just say shit like that when I've got something in my mouth."

I bite my lip to hold back my laugh.

"Sorry," I say, shrugging, 'cause I really ain't all that sorry.

"Yeah, you sound real sincere," he retorts.

"That shit was so funny," I admit, finally able to release my laughter.

"Only for you," he grumbles.

"That's all that really matters," I start to slur and slouch down into the couch.

"You're fucking crazy," he says, taking a swig from his bottle.

I take one from mine, and respond, "Boys do that to girls."

"What?" he asks, lolling his head toward me.

"Make girls crazy," I whisper, staring but not seeing the wall. "They lie, cheat, destroy you, and when that's not enough, they break into your apartment."

My heartbeat increases. The feeling of suffocation starts to build in my chest, the telltale signs of a panic attack rearing its ugly face.

"That fucker did what?" Xavier sounds pissed, but I'm on the edge.

Closing my eyes, I try to focus on breathing. When it doesn't work, I try to focus on something else.

Turning to Xavier, I ask, "Are your girls okay?"

"Did that asshole break in while you've been here?" he asks again, pressing on the topic I need to avoid.

"Please," I cry, closing my eyes, "tell me about your girls."

The silence that forms is almost unbearable.

"Are you okay?" His large hand comes to my face.

"The girls," I whisper, "I heard you say something about them."

"They're fine."

His other hand lifts to my face.

"Sid, look at me."

My lids flutter open and focus on his worry-filled eyes.

Reaching up, I wrap my right hand around his wrist.

"I'll be fine, just keep talking. Take my mind off…" I let the words die away.

"It's their mother. She's sick," he confides.

"I'm sorry," I say, my chest starting to release the tension.

"She had a heart transplant and her body is rejecting it. Yesterday, she had a bad reaction and had to go back into surgery. She's in an induced coma right now because her blood flow to her brain isn't good," he discloses in a rush.

It takes my mind off the remaining panic.

"Shit, I'm so sorry." I don't know what else to say.

"Me, too. You seem better."

"I'm good, thank you." I nod, pulling my face from his hands.

"Sid, I won't ask anything else, but tell me, did he—?"

"Yeah, right after I talked to my mom on the phone. My parents had to handle it and now my dad is fucking pissed."

That's all he's getting from me. I can't think, let alone talk about it. Bringing the bottle back to my lips, I drain the remaining liquid.

"It's a good night to get shit-faced," Xavier says, taking my empty bottle and handing me the one he just opened.

"I don't want to feel anything," I let the words slip out before taking another drink.

The ping of another bottle cap bounces around the room and misses the trash can again.

"Fuck, I could really go for seeing tits right now, too," he says with mock disappointment.

Bursting into laughter, I sink further into the couch, letting the alcohol numb everything.

Chapter Eight
Xavier

The couch is so fucking soft, warm, and, fuck, it smells amazing. I'm never sleeping anywhere else again.

"Xavier," a familiar voice drifts into my comfortable cocoon.

Why is the couch moving?

"Uh, uh, stop moving," I mumble, burying my face deeper into the softness.

"My God," the voice complains and the couch shifts, trying to move me, "do all lumberjacks weigh this much? Is it the extra hair?"

Sidra
.

Opening my eyes, I yawn, evaluating our position on the couch.

Sid lies on her back, beneath me. My body is between her thighs, my head just below her breasts, my left hand lying on one large, round globe, my right arm stretched up her left side. Lifting my head, I rest my chin on her stomach.

"Wanna get off me?" she asks, looking down her body to meet my eyes.

"Not really," I admit, brushing my thumb over her breast.

She slaps my hand away.

"Get up, sleeper molester," she insults, wiggling under me.

"The only thing you're successfully getting up is too far down the couch to do any good for either of us."

The sound of the door opening and multiple sets of footsteps from the main level cut off whatever response she planned to give.

"Someone's here," Sid gasps, pushing at my shoulders. "Get up," she orders, groaning when she's not successful.

"You're real quick, aren't you?" I taunt.

"Who is it?" she asks, trying to slip away.

"Probably my sister, the kids, and my mother," I answer on another yawn.

"Get off me before they—"

"Xavier, whose silver car is…?" Ember doesn't finish her question. Instead, she stops on the last step, taking in the sight of us on the couch.

"Mom," she yells over her shoulder, and then smiles at me.

"You're a brat," I growl, pushing off Sid.

Ember knows my mom will be all over this.

"She's my fucking savior!" Sid exclaims, scrambling off the couch. "I know I've got a lot of cushion, but your ass is heavy." She grabs her head again and groans.

"Stop doing that," I growl, irritated she keeps insulting herself.

"So," my sister drawls out, "who's this?"

I sigh, rubbing my face, my own hangover pounding behind my eyes.

"Yes, Xavier, who is this?" My mother's question sends a ripple of dread through me.

She stands one step higher than my sister, giving the appearance she's taller when she's really an inch, or more, shorter. Mom's trademark golden blonde hair is perfectly sleek, coming just below her shoulders, and her make-up, as always, is muted, but just as flawless as the rest of her.

"Oh my God," Sid breathes out, staring at my mom, her hangover forgotten.

"Mom, Ember, this is Sidra Campbell." I motion to the disheveled brunette staring starry-eyed at my mother.

All I can do is look at her. Fuck, Sid's beautiful first thing in the morning—her hair messy, skin flushed, and remembering how she feels against me makes my body react like I'm twenty again.

"I love you," Sid sighs at my mother.

"Excuse me?" my mother asks, voice as high as her perfectly shaped brows.

"She's a big fan," I explain.

"Seriously?" Ember's nose flares in disbelief right before my mom slaps her arm. "Ow, Mom, your rings hurt."

"Why is it so hard to believe she's a fan?"

Then, Sherry Stone goes into full effect, pushing by my sister and coming to Sid.

"Sid, this is my mom, Sherry—"

"Cherry Summer," Sid says with a wistful sigh and puts her hand out. "You are amazing."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too," my mother says, bypassing the hand and bringing Sid in for a hug.

"My boobs are touching Cherry Summer's. I can die now," she says with reverence.

My mother pulls back, looks Sid in the eye, realizes she is one hundred percent serious, and laughs. It's her trademark, super loud laugh. I swear, she's shattered glass with it in the past.

"Oh, Xavier, I think I like her," mom says, stepping to me and tapping her cheek.

Leaning down, I kiss her and she pulls back with a quick jerk.

"Good God, boy, did you take a bath in piss and Tequila last night?" she asks, wrinkling her face and stepping back. "You smell horrible."

Sid snorts, drawing my attention.

"Don't look at me, I'm not washing your stinky ass," she blurts.

Laughter from the stairs brings our attention to Ember.

"I don't think I like her," Ember says on the end of a laugh. "I
know
I like her."

"Laugh it up, jerk," I toss the words at her and cross my arms over my chest.

"Leave your brother alone," mom scolds.

I grin wide, taunting my sister.

"Momma's boy," Ember growls, shaking her head.

"How the hell did you guys get up here? There's no way they got the roads cleared yet."

"Jerry brought us up in the Snowcat," my mother answers, like it should be obvious.

"You made Jerry drive you guys up the mountain?"

"No," Ember interjects, "we got to town and were talking to Mrs. Reeves about staying at the bed and breakfast. She asked about Maria. Jerry was in the store, overheard and offered to bring us up here."

"We grabbed some food and our things," my mother adds.

"Daddy," my girls call out in unison, stomping down the stairs.

Ember moves out of the way, clearing their path.

I drop my arms from my chest, the warmth you can only feel when you're a dad to little girls spreading over me.

Both come to a stop just a foot in front of me, unshed tears in their eyes, their bottom lips quivering.

Reaching out, I cup both of them by the back of their heads and pull them into me.

"I know," I whisper, placing a kiss on each blonde head. "I fucking know."

Their arms circle me and their bodies shake.

"I'm sorry I took off," I apologize, feeling like shit for leaving them.

I sit on the couch and pull my precious girls down into my lap. Burying my face in the space between their touching heads, I hold them tight to my chest until their sobs subside.

Lyra sniffs and pulls away, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Cass, the more emotional twin, curls closer to my chest.

"Why'd you leave, Dad?" Lyra asks, a shudder in her voice.

"I'm sorry, I just—"

"Why?" Lyra asks with force. "Because of that woman?" She jerks her head toward where Sid stood moments ago.

Glancing around the room, I realize it's just me and the girls. My mom, sister, and Sid quietly left us to our moment.

I take a deep breath and on an exhale, say, "It's hard for me to see your mom like that."

Lyra opens her mouth, but I continue before she says anything.

"And I get angry. Angry enough that I needed to get away and calm down."

"Are you mad at mom?" Cass's voice waivers.

"No, baby," I admit, pressing my lips to the top of her head.

I place my cheek where I just kissed and tighten my embrace.

"I'm mad this sh—stuff is happening to your mom. I'm angry she's not talking to me about it. I'm pissed off at the thought of her..." I close my eyes, letting the words fall away.

Tears sting the back of my eyes and nose. I swallow the large lump in my throat and look at Lyra. A large tear streams over her cheek.

"Is she going to die?" Her question ends on a hiccup.

Reaching out, I take her shoulder and pull her back against me.

"Your mom has always been a tough woman," I say against Lyra's hair. "We need to be strong for her now, yeah?"

Both heads nod against my chest.

I settle against the couch, drop my head back, and close my eyes. Their thin arms slip around my body, overlapping each other. They hold on like I'm the only thing keeping them from drowning.

This is your job, Maria. You're their mom, the rock, the solace they seek. I'm just Dad, the weekend and visiting adventure. I don't know if I can be everything they need.

I give them a long squeeze and hold on. They are the only things keeping me from drowning.

"Are they okay?" Ember asks as I reach the first floor.

"Yeah," I say, giving a quick nod. "They're asleep."

I run my fingers through my hair, then grab an elastic band my sister is holding out to me. Gathering my hair, I knot the strands on top of my head and secure.

I glance around the open space, finding it empty. Looking at the clock on the far wall, I mentally note the time.

"What time did you guys get here?"

"It was almost noon when I found you in your compromising position," Ember giggles the last two words.

"Where's—" I start to ask about Sid.

"Mom's upstairs with the boys, unpacking," Ember offers, walking into the kitchen.

I follow and watch her pull a pizza from the oven before slipping it onto the counter.

"It got cold on the way up," she says, her tone flat.

I take her by the shoulder and pull her into an embrace.

"It kills me to see them like that, Xave," she whispers against my chest. "They don't deserve to lose their mother."

Her body shakes and I rub her back.

"And, Maria…" she cries, pulling out of the embrace, "I can't imagine leaving the boys." She drops her gaze and I grip her chin, bringing her face back up to meet my eyes.

"You won't have to, Em," I reassure. "Not for a long time."

She swipes a tear from her cheek and gives a quick nod.

Needing to remove the heavy tension around us, I change the subject.

"Did Mom take her shit to the master bedroom?"

Ember shrugs and turns back to the pizza.

"I don't know. I haven't gone upstairs yet, but she usually does."

"Where's Sid?" I look over my shoulder, like she might magically appear behind me.

"I wondered how long that would take," she says in a teasing tone.

"What?" I ask a bit too quickly.

"It's time to spill it, baby brother."

"There's nothing to spill," I say with a shrug.

"Yeah, okay. Are you dating?"

Ember reaches over, grabs a slice of pizza, and brings it to her mouth. Before she can open her mouth, I snag the slice from her hand and walk away, biting into the cheesy goodness.

With my mouth full, I answer her question. "Nope."

"Punk," she grumbles.

"Brat," I quip back, sitting on the island.

"Is the pizza ready?"

I spin in my seat and grin.

"What's up, Uncle Xave?" Ian, my nephew, asks, heading for his mother and pizza. He stands next to her and my brows lift in surprise. At fifteen, he's the same size as Em. Which is impressive, since she's five-foot-ten.

"When the hell did you get so damn tall?"