Badd Mojo Read online

  I winced. "Yeah, well...your brother is a bastard, and I blame him."

  Lucian didn't respond to that right away; instead, he lifted the top of a waffle iron, forked out a thick, fluffy Belgian waffle, and set it in front of me; there was a bottle of maple syrup, a shaker of powdered sugar, and a dish of butter arranged near my plate. I fixed the waffle with all the trimmings and dug in, moaning at the goodness.

  "Ohmagawd, Lucian," I moaned, my mouth full, "this is amazing. Where'd you learn to make waffles like this?"

  He switched bacon from the pan to a plate covered in paper towel and set it near me, then sat down and helped himself to coffee and bacon. "I spent some time as a galley cook. Learned a few tricks." He watched me devour the waffle. "Want to hear something funny?"

  I nodded. "Sure. Hit me up with humor."

  "The waffles are made with mostly almond flour, the syrup is sugar-free, the powdered sugar is mostly xylitol, and the butter is organic grass-fed butter."

  I stared at him. "You're kidding."

  He gestured at the counter, where all the ingredients were still sitting out. "Something I've been experimenting with."

  "Well...I would never have known." I held up a piece of bacon, tried a bite. "This tastes like real bacon."

  He laughed. "Oh, it is. Real honest to goodness pork bacon. No turkey or chicken nonsense here."

  Claire appeared, headphones around her neck, sniffing. "Waffles? Bacon?"

  Lucian laughed. "Would you like a waffle, Claire?"

  "That would be fantastic, thank you, Lucian." She poured coffee for herself, killing the pot, and spent a moment making a new pot before sitting on the other side of me. "So. Aerie."

  I sipped, and ate. "So, Claire." I eyed her. "Last thing I remember is being on the floor of the other apartment, crying, and trying to drink a beer."

  Claire laughed. "Ohhhh god...girlfriend, you blacked out for the best part, then."

  I winced, covering my face with one hand. "Oh dear god. What did I do?"

  Claire snagged a piece of bacon and ate it, eyeing me speculatively. "You really don't remember?"

  "Nothing past being on the floor of the kitchen."

  "You chugged three beers in a row before we could stop you, and then you got this hair up your ass about needing to wear Canaan's clothes, so you booked it over here, and you started to strip before you'd even gotten inside. I had to talk you out of getting naked in front of Lucian, Baxter, and Brock, and I managed to get you into Canaan's room. You found the clothes you wanted, changed, and then you sat down in the middle of the room, crying, and sniffing the clothes. Poor Corin and Tate were super confused by the whole thing, since they'd been sleeping. Well, I managed to get you out into the living room, and you wouldn't stop crying. Just...sobbing and sobbing and sobbing, but you weren't making any sense."

  "Oh god."

  "Yeah, it was a lot of fun."

  I sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm a mess, clearly."

  "Eh, that's what we're here for, hon." Claire paused, eyeing me. "Do you remember telling us this crazy story about you and Lex Landon, and a pregnancy, and getting an abortion?"

  I thunked my head on the table. "No. No, no, no. I didn't. Please, sweet baby Jesus, tell me I didn't."

  Claire nodded, patting my shoulder. "You sure did, sweetheart. Every last sordid detail."

  "Who all exactly did I tell?"

  Claire made a face. "Um. Everyone?"

  I lifted my head to look at her. "Everyone? Like...who is everyone?"

  "Me, Brock, Dru, Bast, Baxter, and Eva. Zane and Mara weren't here, and Tate and Corin were in bed."

  "Literally everyone except Zane and Mara?"

  "Yes ma'am."

  I groaned. "Oh my god."

  Claire rubbed my shoulder again. "So...that story. It's true?"

  I nodded. "Yes, it is."

  "And you told it to Canaan?" Lucian asked, setting a waffle in front of Claire and pouring more coffee into my mug.

  "I told him, then promptly had a panic attack, and when I got my shit together--thanks to Eva--he was gone."

  "I remember him going up to the door of Baxter's room where you were with Eva, being about to knock, and then leaving suddenly," Lucian said. "Maybe he overheard you saying something out of context."

  If he'd heard me say I was too afraid to try to be with him, I could see how it would send him into a spiral--and there's no way to take that out of context. Shit, if I'd heard him say something that, I'd go into a spiral. Plus my confession...

  "I guess I get why he'd run away," I said, "but it doesn't make it any easier."

  Lucian turned his gaze to middle distance, leaning back in his chair, both hands wrapped around his coffee mug. "This is kind of a mess."

  "Kind of a mess? Kind of?" I snorted a sarcastic laugh. "Lucian, this is an unqualified disaster."

  Claire put her hands over mine. "So...what do you want to do?"

  Abruptly, absurdly, my eyes watered, and then a tear dripped down my face. "Shit." I ducked my head to hide it. "I don't know," I whispered. "I don't know. Everything hurts, and I don't mean being hungover. He left, Claire. He left. I told him my deepest, darkest secret, and he turns around and checks out. I'm angry, but...I'm hurt more than anything. I told him because...because I wanted him to know. He deserved to know. Because if we...if we were going to be able to ever..." I trailed off, unable to finish.

  "Why don't you take a day or two and let yourself sort of...back away from everything?" Claire suggested. "Sort through your emotions, and decide what you want. I know things with your sister are also somewhat...strained. You have a lot going on, a lot that's coming at you all at once. Take some time to process. Let things cool off, emotionally. I know from experience that it's all too easy to make snap decisions in the heat of all sorts of crazy emotions, but when you take a minute or two to step back and really think, really let yourself feel more than just the hot, crazy intense emotions, it all seems a little different."

  I nodded. "I just...I don't know what to do."

  She shrugged. "Go get your hair and nails done. Go shopping. I don't know you well enough to know what your hobbies are, but I'm sure you have something you love doing...do that."

  "Music. I like music."

  "So do music."

  "A spa day and shopping sounds pretty good, too, though." I sniffled, wiping under my eyes.

  "So let's get the girls together for a girls' day..." She laughed. "A sober girls' day, that is."

  "Sounds good," I said. "Although I probably need a shower first. And my own clothing."

  I hadn't been back to the B&B in a few days. I had been living out of a backpack of clothes, toiletries, and makeup. Once Mom showed up, I hadn't wanted to go back and face her, but now I had no choice. First, though, I had to get myself under control--I wasn't about to let her see me hurting like this: she'd ask questions I'm not prepared to answer.

  Claire walked with me back to Grandma and Grandpa's just in time to see the tail end of another blowup between Mom and Tate; Mom stormed out the front door, letting the screen door slam loudly, stomping down the front porch steps in three-inch stilettos, her face a blank mask of anger. She pinned me with a brief, intense glare, huffed, and kept walking. I let her go, exchanging glances with Claire.

  "Maybe I should go see about rounding the others up?" Claire suggested.

  I nodded. "Might be a good idea. Looks like I have family drama to attend to."

  Nervously, gingerly, I entered The Kingsley's Rest. Grandma and Grandpa were sitting together on the love seat, Grandpa's arm over Grandma's shoulders, their expressions nervous, tight, and anxious; Corin and Tate were sitting together on the couch, holding hands; silence reigned, thick and awkward. Tate looked up as I entered, and her expression morphed through relief, hurt, anger, and uncertainty, before she attempted to smooth her features into neutrality.

  "Did I miss something?" I asked.

  Grandpa snorted derisively. "Not all, sweetpea. Everything is totally nor
mal."

  "Richard, really," Grandma chided. "Sarcasm will not help the situation, dear."

  "No, but it sure does feel good," Grandpa said.

  "Seriously, though, what's going on?" I asked. "Mom left in a huff."

  "I told them," Tate said, her voice low and small. "I told Grandma and Grandpa that I'm pregnant."

  "I see. And why did this lead to a Mom-splosion?" I frowned. "She already knew, so even Mom won't blow up twice about the same thing."

  Grandma sighed. "She doesn't agree with our feelings on how to best handle the situation."

  Grandpa snorted again. "That woman won't tolerate anyone's decision or point of view but her own. Never has, never will."

  "Richard--"

  "No, Ellen. She's my daughter, and I'm not going to ignore the way she is, or pretend she isn't that way."

  I looked from Grandpa to Grandma to Tate, and then to Corin. "So...what was the argument about?"

  "What wasn't it about?" Tate groaned. "You and me running away, Grandma and Grandpa taking us in, me being pregnant..." She threw up her hands. "It was a full-on tantrum."

  "What does she want?" I asked.

  "For things to go back to the way they were before we moved here," Tate answered.

  I sat on the arm of the love seat next to Grandpa. "Did we move here? Like, permanently move here?"

  Tate groaned. "Honestly, A, I don't have the energy for that particular conversation with you right now."

  I waved a hand, dismissing the topic. "Fine. So what does she say regarding you being pregnant?"

  "It's all tied together, for her," Tate said. "She said Grandma and Grandpa should never have allowed us to stay with them, that they should have contacted her immediately and forced us to go home with Mom, that if we were living with them, then they should have kept a closer eye on us. Apparently, to Mom, Grandma and Grandpa are directly at fault for me being pregnant."

  I blinked, trying to process the logic. "Um. So...to Mom, then, you and I are still little girls? Like, we need babysitters? Like, what? Grandma and Grandpa are supposed to be our guardians? Do we need a curfew, now, too? What the hell is wrong with her?"

  Tate raised both hands to slow my tirade. "Aerie, you don't have to convince me of this. I don't understand Mom any more than you do right now."

  "She's not in control of the situation," Grandpa explained. "So...she's upset. Rachel has always liked to have every facet of her life under control. Being your mother, that control includes the two of you. So when you girls decided to take your lives and your futures in your own hands and out of hers, well...you hurt her pretty bad. It was inevitable, though, so don't feel too bad. You girls are adults, and you've been adults for a while. You're just now sort of catching on to the fact that being an adult sometimes means making hard decisions for yourself, decisions that may not make everyone else around you happy."

  Tate sniffled. "I want to go back to being a little girl, Grandpa. Being an adult sucks." She put her face in her hands, stifling a shudder and a sob. "I didn't want this. I wanted...I don't know. I wanted a break from Mom deciding everything for us. I wanted to have some fun, I wanted to...and then we got so carried away, and now..." Tate glanced at Corin, tears sliding down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Cor. I don't regret us, or you, or even this baby, really. I just..." She shrugged. "I don't know how I really feel. I just don't know."

  Grandpa rose from the couch and moved to sit on the arm of the love seat beside Tate. "Honey, listen. I know this whole situation is confusing and upsetting. Your mother means well, and she really does want the best for you. But right now, as much as I love my daughter, and just looking at this thing as objectively as I can, you need to do what's best for you. You have to figure out your own life for yourself. You're pregnant, now, baby girl. That changes everything. So you're gonna have to think long and hard about what you want your life to look like, now and especially after you have that baby." He glanced at me, and then back at Tate. "Here's the hardest thing for me to say--you have to do what's best for you. Not Corin, much as I like him, and not Aerie, even if she is your twin. When it comes down to brass tacks, baby girl, all of us are only responsible for ourselves. You're not responsible for Corin, you're not responsible for your mom, for Aerie, for anyone. You're responsible for yourself, and for that life growing inside you."

  "But I am responsible for Corin, Grandpa. I got us into this mess by being so...so forgetful and irresponsible. This wasn't his fault, it's mine."

  "Bullshit," Grandpa spat. "Number one, there's no sense in playing the blame game. But if you're going to insist on placing blame, it was both of you--you for forgetting birth control, and him for not taking precautions whether you were on birth control or not. Reality of things is, babies can happen even when you're on birth control, even through several layers of precautions. A young couple came through here a few years ago, staying here on their honeymoon. They'd had an unexpected pregnancy, while she was on birth control and he was using protection, and she was only a day out of her cycle, so she shouldn't have been fertile in the first place, and she still got pregnant. This stuff just happens. You have sex, you run a risk of getting pregnant, no matter how you do it, unless you're having, you know...the kind of sex where--" He stopped with a gruff clearing of his throat. "Well, anyway. You get what I'm saying."

  "Yeah, Grandpa, we all get what you're saying," I said, cringing. "Seriously no need for further detail."

  "Right, right." He resumed his seat beside Grandma. "Point here is that passing blame around is a waste of time. It won't solve anything, and it won't help you figure out the future. Accept the way things are, and get on with what you gotta do."

  "I know what you're saying, Grandpa. I get it." Tate scrubbed her face and intertwined her fingers in Corin's, and then looked at me. "It's just hard, because Aerie and I have been making our decisions together, about each other's lives for our whole lives. I've never even thought about not taking her into account, and now, this thing, being pregnant, it...like you said, it changes everything. It already has changed everything, and I haven't even had the baby yet."

  "You've got that right," I muttered.

  Tate's gaze snapped to mine, blazing with anger. "If you've got something to say, then fucking say it, Aerie."

  I shook my head, standing up from my place on the arm of the couch. "No, not now. You being pregnant does change everything. For you, for Corin, for me, and for Canaan. That's all I'm saying right now. But Grandpa is right--you have to do what's best for you. You, the baby, and Corin. What I want, want I wanted, what I thought was going to happen, none of that matters anymore. All that's left now is for you to figure what your future is going to look like, and I have to do the same for me."

  "Aerie, about yesterday--" Tate started.

  I held up a hand to stop her. "I'll quote you, here--I don't have the energy for that conversation." I moved toward the stairs. "You and me are going to have to sit down and have a hell of a conversation, and soon, but right now, I need to shower and change, and get some time alone to think about what I'm going to do about my own life, which is pretty messed up too, at the moment."

  Tate sighed. "Aerie, I don't want things between us to be like this."

  I turned back and went over to her, bent to give her a hug. "You're my twin, Tate. I love you. No matter what. It's going to be fine, okay? We will be fine. You figure out you, I'll figure out me, and when the dust settles, we'll figure out us. Twinsies for life, always, no matter what. Okay?"

  She sniffled, nodding, and clung to my neck. "Love you."

  I let her go, and went upstairs to shower and change.

  I managed to avoid thinking about Canaan while showering, dressing, and then meeting up with Claire and the girls downtown. I managed to continue to avoid thinking about him as we shopped for new clothes, shoes, and purses, and then got our nails done and our hair blown out, and all sorts of fun girly endeavors meant to keep my mind off of Canaan and the clusterfuck that was...well, everything.


  It was weird to be out with girls and doing fun girl stuff without Tate. Weird, meaning...abnormal. Disconcerting. Disorienting.

  I've spent every single day of my life, my entire life, with Tate. All day, every day, forever. She's more than a twin, more than a sister--she's...she's like an extension of myself. You never think about your shadow, right? So she's not a shadow, which is a tempting analogy to make, here...she's so much more. She...she's me. A mirror image of me. I feel her. I am her. It's...you can't fathom it, if you're not us. So, to spend this time without her, to be doing these things, picking shoes and purses and skirts and bras without my twin...it's almost anathema.

  But what hurts, what scares me, what niggles under my skin, like a pebble in my shoe...is the fact that it also feels...normal.

  That's the disorienting part, the paradox, the oxymoron: it is both anathema and inconceivable and bizarre, and also a new kind of normal that feels right.

  These girls, they're family. Claire, Dru, Eva, and Mara--Zane was off work this afternoon and volunteered to stay home with Jax so Mara was able to come out and join us. Let me tell you, Mara is something else. She's the kind of woman you'd imagine being woman enough to fulfill and challenge and satisfy a former Navy SEAL and man like Zane Badd.

  Each of them found her own way to comfort me, to take my mind off things, to keep me relaxed and having fun.

  It would only work for so long, but...like Claire said, taking the time to push the events away, to push my initial emotional reactions away long enough to look at the situation with a bit more objectivity did work wonders for me. I even managed to feel, for a few hours, that life was something like normal.

  But when we got back to the apartment above Badd's to unload our haul, Tate was there, waiting for me.

  "You went shopping with literally everyone except me?" Her voice quavered. "Nice. Thanks for thinking of me, A."

  "Tate, I--"

  "No, of course, I mean, why would I want to go shopping with the girls? It's not like I'm your sister or anything." She shot to her feet, shaking her head, hissing in anger as she paced back and forth in front of me. "Nah, screw Tate, right? Why include her? It's not like she'd need a girls' day out or anything. I mean, it's not like I'm dealing with anything stressful at all or anything."