Badd Luck Read online

  I shrugged. "I dunno. I haven't checked. Mainly because I'm scared of her response."

  "She's going to go absolutely nuclear! Did you tell her where we're going?"

  "Are you nuts? She'd show up and try to literally drag us back. This whole thing we've been doing the last five years has all been her idea, A. That's the entire point of this. We need to take time and reevaluate what we really want for ourselves, without Mom doing her momager routine and trying to force us into fulfilling her failed dreams of being a model."

  Aerie pulled her iPad and laptop out of her bag. She fired up her laptop, connected to the in-flight Wi-Fi, and pulled up her emails. "Did you CC me on the email?"

  "Duh."

  She refreshed her email, creating a blitz of new emails, mostly junk, which she clicked through until she came to the thread between Mom and me.

  * * *

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  CC: [email protected]

  Subject: Important News

  * * *

  Dear Mom,

  Aerie and I have officially decided to take an indefinite leave of absence from modeling.

  We're sick of it all, Mom. This was your dream, not ours, and we've had fun, but we need time to decide for ourselves what we really want to do with our lives. I'm sorry about the email but if we give you even an inch of room to horn in, you'll have us back in the game faster than we can blink.

  And we're just not going to do everything your way anymore. We love you, and we're eternally grateful for all you've given us, and all you've done for us, and how hard you've worked to get us to where we are now. We really mean this.

  But we need to do things for ourselves, now. Make our own way. We're safe, I promise. This is not just what we want, but what we really and truly NEED. I hope you can understand.

  Just to confirm, this is not a joke and there's no convincing us otherwise. We are shutting off our phones, iPads, and laptops. We will not be checking email, we will not take phone calls, and we will not be checking social media.

  Love,

  Tater Tot.

  * * *

  Aerie blew out a sigh. "Wow. You really didn't pull any punches, did you?"

  I shrugged. "Nope. I'm not a punch puller, in case you missed that about me."

  She laughed. "You signed it 'Tater Tot'? Mom hasn't called you that since you were eleven!"

  "I actually made that email account specifically to send that email to Mom. I'm gonna shut it down again at some point."

  "But...Tater Tot?"

  "I hated it when Mom called me that. Remember how ballistic I'd go?"

  Aerie laughed. "You went on a hunger strike until she stopped calling you that."

  "Actually, I just stopped eating when Mom was around. I snuck down and ate myself sick in the middle of the night," I said.

  Aerie cackled. "You sneaky little scamp! I believed you were really starving yourself!"

  "You'd have cracked if you'd known." I poked her forehead. "Mom has always been able to get you to crack."

  She sighed. "This is, sadly, all too true. She does that glare and the eyebrow, and the silence? I just can't handle it."

  "You just have to outwait her. She gets frustrated eventually, and then you can turn it into a nice loud shout-fest, and then she just goes ballistic and sends you to your room, and then she forgets the whole thing a few hours later. She's consistent about that much, if nothing else."

  Aerie eyeballed me furiously. "You had this tactic going our whole lives, yet you never thought to share?"

  "I thought you knew!"

  "No, I didn't know! Why do you think I was always spilling the beans?"

  "You got me grounded for two weeks because of Amos Doherty and that whole incident with the fifth of Jack Daniels."

  Aerie tilted her head back against the headrest. "Oh my god, she was so mad at you!"

  "I didn't even drink any of that whiskey, you know. That was all Amos, Nate, Lane, and Louise."

  Aerie shrugged saucily. "You were a bad kid! You were always sneaking out, and dragging me with you half the time. I was grounded almost as much as you."

  "Oh bullshit. You always wormed out of it, and I took the blame."

  "You could outwait Mom and all that, but you were always useless at getting out of trouble. "

  "Yeah, and trouble was my middle name."

  "That, my dear little Tater Tot, is not a shock to me or anyone."

  "That was not an invitation to call me Tater Tot, Aerie."

  "Sure it was...Tater Tot."

  "I'll switch your toothpaste for Preparation H if you call me that."

  She cackled yet again. "You still hate it. You just sent that email as a way of giving Mom the finger."

  "True."

  I glanced at her laptop. "Has she replied yet?"

  Her laptop blipped, then, as an email came through.

  From our mother.

  In all caps.

  * * *

  FROM: [email protected]

  TO: [email protected]

  CC: [email protected]

  SUBJECT: Important News

  * * *

  HAVE YOU LOST YOUR GODDAMN MINDS??!! YOU'RE NOT ANSWERING YOUR PHONES, YOU'RE NOT MESSAGING ME BACK ON TWITTER, FB, OR INSTAGRAM. I AM SO FURIOUS WITH YOU! THIS IS THE MOST IRRESPONSIBLE THING YOU HAVE EVER DONE! YOU'RE GOING TO RUIN YOUR CAREER, AND I'M NOT GOING TO HELP YOU GET IT BACK. GET YOUR SKINNY, IDIOTIC LITTLE BUTTS BACK TO MANHATTAN NOW BEFORE I PUT OUT A MANHUNT ON YOU.

  * * *

  PS: Tater Tot? Really?

  * * *

  Mom

  * * *

  All caps, though. Wow.

  Aerie glanced at me. "So...do we respond?"

  I closed the laptop. "Nope."

  "Maybe we should reply. She really will send out a manhunt. We'll have the FBI looking for us."

  I sighed, and opened the laptop back up. "Fine."

  * * *

  I typed a response:

  * * *

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  CC: [email protected]

  Subject: Important News

  * * *

  Mom,

  * * *

  I do understand that you're upset, but we really do need to do this. I'm sorry, I really am. I know you don't understand, and probably never will. Please don't send anyone looking for us, we really are safe and doing this of our own free will. Remember when we ran away when we were 8 because you wouldn't let us have cake for breakfast? This isn't like that at all. We are adults, Mother. And when I told you we weren't checking our devices at all, I wasn't kidding. We are sending this from an airplane, and we will not be sending any further correspondences until such a time as we see fit.

  * * *

  We really do love you.

  * * *

  Love ya!

  * * *

  Tater Tot and Aerie Bird

  * * *

  Aerie screeched. "Aerie Bird? Have you lost your mind? You have, you really have, haven't you? Aerie Bird? I hate that nickname!"

  I laughed maniacally. "I know! That's why this is so fun. This way she knows we're not, like, being kidnapped, and it's a way to poke her a little."

  She eyed me speculatively. "Why do you do that? Why piss her off?"

  I sighed. "Mainly because I resent the way she railroaded us into modeling."

  "Oh, come off it, T, you've had fun. Plus, we've made a lot of money. If we hadn't done the modeling thing, we'd be broke college students right now."

  I nodded and shrugged at the same time. "Yeah, there have been fun moments. But...it was never what I really wanted."

  "What do you think you want, then?"

  I shook my head. "I have no idea. Something mentally challenging, and something creative." I went silent a moment, thinking. "Remember in high school? All those projects we used to do? We'd paint crazy murals, and then
we'd do a multimedia thing, with like, wood and glue and copper wires and toothpaste, and then we'd write a play and act it out and record it and put it up on YouTube, and then we'd pretend we were in a band and write all these songs and play them and stuff? We had so much fun just being artistic little nerds, and we didn't give a shit. We were so cool! And now we just...prance around half-naked for leering old men, so different leering old men can jerk off to our half-naked Instagram photos. It's not art, it's...it's just lame. I hate it, and I hate what we have become."

  Aerie was silent a long time. "Weird. I've been thinking about trying to get out of the Instagram world and do more for magazines and print publications."

  "Oh. Sounds interesting, but it would not be for me."

  "If we end up doing different things, it's not going to be weird for us is it?" Aerie asked.

  "Oh." I shook my head, and trailed my fingers through her hair. "No. We'll always be twinsies. No matter what."

  With our devices turned off, we ended up turning on a rom-com on the in-flight entertainment, which we only got halfway through before landing. There was a backup on the tarmac, which ended up eating into our layover. When we finally got into the SEA terminal we had to run to the next gate like our butts were on fire. We only barely made it, and got into our seats just before they closed the doors.

  The flight to Ketchikan was short, and we were landing before we even really got settled. Of course, we're used to long-haul flights from one point on the globe to another, so the two-hour flight felt like it was barely getting started before we were landing.

  As we were exiting the jetway, Aerie turned to me, panic on her face. "Did we ever tell Canaan and Corin when we were landing?"

  I laughed. "You're such an airhead, A, oh my god." I patted her on the head mockingly. "Yes, Aerie, I texted them both our flight information, and told them we'd need a ride from the ferry."

  "We still don't have anywhere to stay, though." She said this as we made our way to baggage claim.

  I stopped walking and stared at her as if she'd grown an extra head. "Um, you're kidding right?"

  She stared back uncomprehendingly. "What do you mean?"

  "Grandma and Grandpa? They own a B and B? Remember?"

  "Oh. Duh. I really am an airhead, aren't I?" She sighed. "Do they know we're coming?"

  "I emailed them a few days ago to say we were coming back to Ketchikan for a while. They said we could stay with them if we wanted and just to call when we got back."

  "Good." She paused to grab two of her suitcases from the conveyer belt, and then glanced at me. "I'm not really an airhead, am I?"

  I laughed and hauled her in for a bear hug, squeezing until she squeaked. "You're forgetful of commonplace things, but it's because you're always thinking about the important stuff. I tend to shuffle that stuff aside and not think about it until everything is a whirlwind and I'm in the middle of a full-on panic attack."

  "Yeah, you're kind of guy-ish about dealing with emotions." She pushed me off and grabbed one of my suitcases off the conveyor. "I don't know how you do that--not think about things."

  We got the rest of our luggage and I led the way toward the exit. "It's not that I don't think about them, it's that I intentionally choose to think about practical stuff instead, so I don't have to deal with the emotional stuff until I'm ready."

  "So is that what you're doing right now, about finally being back in Ketchikan and seeing the boys?"

  I sighed as we reached the exit leading to the ferry, which would take us to town from the airport. "Yes, as a matter of fact. If I think about any of that, I'll freak out."

  "I mean, it's all I can think about. We're home. We're in Ketchikan! We're about to see Canaan and Corin! How can you not be freaking out about this?"

  "Because...I don't know. It's just the way I am. I don't like freaking out, especially not in public. I like to freak out alone, preferably in a dark room, under the covers, while you're asleep."

  "Why?"

  "Because it's embarrassing! Having some kind of emotional meltdown in front of a bunch of total strangers is my actual worst nightmare."

  "Who gives a shit what other people think? Everyone has emotions, and there's no embarrassment in letting them out." She followed me onto the ferry, which was the only way from the airport to Ketchikan, and we took seats near the front, our suitcases and carry-ons piled beside us.

  I shook my head. "Some things are private." I watched the water rush past the window, and then after a few minutes, turned to Aerie. "Do you still think of Ketchikan as home?"

  She didn't answer right away. "Um...yes, kind of? If I think of home, this is what comes to mind, not Mom's condo."

  "Me too." I paused, and then shot her a grin. "You know, in Mom's email address, the U-W-S actually stands for Upper West Side, which is where her condo is. For her, that address is an identifying feature, to the extent that it's part of her email address."

  Aerie blew a raspberry of laughter. "No way!"

  I nodded, laughing with her. "Right?" I sighed. "But...that's Mom for you. I mean, I love the shit out of her, but she also annoys the shit out of me."

  And then the ferry was docking and we were disembarking, struggle-bussing hardcore as we tried to maneuver three suitcases each, plus purses and our carry-ons--laptop bags and Aerie's ukulele case. I wanted to look for the boys, but it required all my attention just to juggle all my luggage which, to be fair to myself, did contain literally everything I owned.

  I smelled him first--spicy, understated cologne layered over deodorant and other scents. And then I glimpsed a right hand, masculine, strong, with heavy silver rings on several fingers, and a barcode tattooed on the back with more ink wrapping around the wrist and up the forearm. The hand grabbed the handles of two of my roller suitcases, and then the left hand, also decorated with rings and a 3D grayscale tattoo of an infinity symbol, reached up and took my carry-on from my shoulder.

  In just a few seconds, my eyes took in a bright red Chinese-style dragon tattoo, and woven in between the coils of the dragon were musical notes; I could read music, and I recognized the melody as the tune to Bishop's Pawn's first hit single, "You, Me, Us", which had gone platinum in something like two weeks. He was wearing a tight black T-shirt, the sleeves taut around his biceps, hiding the rest of his tattoo sleeve.

  And then his face. Sharp jawline, dark with heavy stubble. Lip ring at the center of his lower lip, high cheekbones, and those eyes, god those eyes. Brown, mocha and chocolate and yellow, piercing and intelligent and amused. His hair, the sides freshly shaved, the top pulled back into a neat topknot.

  Ripped, tight, faded blue jeans, liberally decorated with Sharpie doodles, some faded to near illegibility, some new, all over the thighs and around the rips. Combat boots, calf high, laced halfway up, the tongue lolling loosely forward, the jeans draped with casual perfection into the opening. Leather cuff around his left wrist, rings on half of his fingers. Earrings in his earlobes and around the upper shell.

  Corin, in all his rock star glory.

  God, he was gorgeous.

  He had my luggage in one hand, and with the other he reached up and tugged on my braid. "Tate. Whassup?"

  In person, his voice was...so sexy. A hint of a rasp, not too deep, confident, almost arrogant, but not quite. His voice resonated in my gut and lower, so much lower. His voice made my thighs quake and my core heat up.

  "Corin. Hey."

  I knew Canaan and Aerie were around somewhere nearby, but for the moment, all I could do was stare, soaking up the beauty that was Corin Badd. I was staring, and I knew it, and he was staring back, and it was tense and awkward and weird, because for once I couldn't think of a damn thing to say.

  "God, you're hot," I heard myself say. "I want to lick your lip ring."

  Oh. My. GOD. Did I just say that? Out loud?

  His eyebrow quirked up, and he flicked his tongue out so his tongue ring clicked against his teeth. "I've been told my tongue ring does some amazing thing
s when I do the licking..." He raked his gaze down my body, pausing meaningfully at the juncture of my thighs.

  My cheeks flamed, and my pussy quivered, and my stomach dropped out and then immediately shot up into my throat. "Um. I mean. Um."

  "You used to be a little more verbose than this, Tate. You all right?"

  I wanted him to tug on my braid again, and all I could think about was what his tongue ring would feel like against my clit, and words were just not coming to my aid at this moment. Which was, as he'd pointed out, extremely unusual for me.

  I was never at a loss for words. I never stumbled or tripped over my words, much less got stuck in an um rut.

  I blinked hard and shoved the inappropriate thoughts out of my head. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just jetlagged."

  Corin's grin was amused. "You came from LA, by way of Seattle. Same time zone."

  "Yeah, but we had lots of travel before that."

  "Really?" His tone of voice told me he wasn't buying it. He leaned close to me. "You bring that shirt you were wearing when we Skyped the other night? I like that shirt."

  Ohhhh shit. "I may have it somewhere."

  "You should wear it again for me."

  "I was drinking that night," I murmured, "I wasn't in my best frame of mind."

  He licked his lip, and his tongue ring clicked against his lip ring. "Tate, babe, you know my brothers and I help run Badd's now, right? We'll do plenty of drinking."

  "Is that so?"

  He leaned even closer, and I could smell coffee on his breath. His eyes trailed down from mine, tracing over the column of my throat to my cleavage, which was, admittedly, on display in this particular outfit, which I may or may not have chosen specifically for this purpose, for this meeting.

  "You look you're one sudden movement from a wardrobe malfunction right now," he said, letting his gaze linger.

  I shimmied my torso side to side. "They're taped in place," I said. "No escaping this time."

  His eyes bulged a little as he watched my tits sway. "Damn. That's a real shame." He returned his eyes up to mine. "Still a hell of a view, though. You're looking pretty fuckin' hot your own self."

  "We've all grown up, I guess, huh?"

  "Guess so." He tugged on my braid again, backing away. "Truck's parked pretty close. We should get off the pier."