Chapter 48: Bide: Chapter 44

“Lux!”

“I’m coming!”

When five minutes pass and her bedroom door stays firmly shut, I pound my fist against the wood. “Lux, I swear to God!”

An annoyed groan sounds from within. “I said I’m coming!”

“They’re almost here!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Oscar.” The door swings open, revealing my swearing, glaring, furious sister. “Happy?”

“Took you long enough.”

Bony elbows catch me in the stomach as she pushes past me. “I was getting dressed.”

I eye her outfit skeptically. She’s wearing the same dress she always does, one of the ones that hang in her closet specifically for these visits, but with a huge chunky cardigan over the top. I wince before the next words even leave my mouth. “She’s not gonna like the cardigan.”

Understatement; she’ll hate it. It’s homemade—a Lottie creation from back when she liked us enough to make us things—and it looks like it.

Lux shoots me a dirty look. “She can kiss my ass.”

God, she’s in a fucking mood lately.

Following my stomping sister into the kitchen, I find the rest of them gathered around the kitchen window, watching our impending doom inch its way closer, the atmosphere chillingly somber.

It says a lot, really, that a visit from our grandparents harshens the mood more than burying our mother did.

They didn’t show up to the funeral. It was too short notice, they said. But they sent their condolences, of course, in the form of fat deposits in each of our bank accounts. I don’t know why I was even surprised. They’re too busy for holidays and birthdays and graduations; why would the death of the mother of their beloved grandchildren affect them any differently?

Something about their visit today feels… off. Worse than usual. For starters, both our grandparents are making an appearance; it was our grandfather that called. So, when two doors open instead of one, I’m not surprised.

But when a third does, my heart drops.

When I recognize the person getting out of the back seat, it fucking burns.

“Is that-”

I cut off Grace’s shaky question. “Go upstairs.”

“What-”

“All of you, upstairs, now.”

I don’t wait to see if they listen to me. The screen door slams off the wall as I throw it open and storm outside, porch steps groaning beneath my feet as I barrel down them. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“

.”

I ignore my grandmother’s shrill, indignant voice. My gaze, my attention, all of my fucking anger is focused on the younger man cowering behind his parents. “Leave, right now, or I swear to fucking God-”

“Oscar, stop.” I flinch when he says my name, hating how it sounds coming out of his mouth. “I’m just here to pay my respects.”

.

Paying your respects would involve having respect. He didn’t respect her, he didn’t love her, he didn’t even fucking like her. This, showing up almost a week after the fact, is fucking disrespect. “Consider them paid. Now, leave.”

For the first time in his pathetic little life, Oscar Jackson Senior stands his ground. Stands straight-backed, hands fisted at his sides, face serious.

God, he looks just like Lottie.

“I want to see the girls.”

Over my dead fucking body. “No.”

He actually has the audacity to look offended at my refusal. “They’re my kids.”

“The fuck they are.” He gave away that right, literally and figuratively, a long time ago. He threw it away, threw us away, like we were nothing. He never earned that right.

I did.

“

raised them. Not you. Not them.” I gesture towards my grandparents before stabbing a finger at my own chest. “

. They’re my fucking kids and I’m telling you to stay the fuck away from them.”

“Oscar Jackson, you watch how you talk to your father,” Grandma hisses, her face red with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

“He’s not my anything.”

“Lower your voice.” All three of them glance anxiously around the ranch. Like paparazzi are going to erupt from the treeline and discover that, shock horror, their beloved, charismatic, oh-so-progressive politician-turned-philanthropist is actually a massive jackass with five illegitimate children he abandoned over a decade ago. It would ruin his career, if that happened.

would ruin his career.

Hence why our grandparents pay us off and keep us hidden away on the ranch.

“Fuck you,” I spit at the woman who has caused me and my sisters so much fucking pain.

There must be something in the air because for once, my grandfather finds his voice. “You will not disrespect your grandmother like that.”

I laugh in his face. “Fuck you, too.”

“

.”

I ignore my father’s voice, instead sweeping my arm in the direction of their car. “All of you, leave.”

My grandmother narrows her eyes, turning up her nose at me. “You can’t tell us to leave. This is our land.”

“How much do you want for it?”

The words come out so quick I barely register that I’m saying them. I think, for quite possibly the first time in her long, miserable, life I’ve rendered my grandmother speechless because she gapes at me for a moment before choking out, “What?”

Can’t back down now. “How much is it gonna take for you to leave us alone?”

She scoffs, regarding me with utter condescension. “You couldn’t possibly afford it.”

Clearly, they’ve lost count of all those deposits. “Try me.”

They blurt out a number and I almost laugh; God, they really have no idea how much this place is worth. “Done.”

“Wait-”

“And you’re gonna transfer legal guardianship of the girls to me.”

“What-”

“Send me whatever the fuck I need to sign and I’ll sign it. Now, get off my ranch.”

I think it’s the shock that has them leaving without protest. They amble towards their shitty little car, casting stunned glances over their shoulders, hopefully setting eyes on me for the last time. Before he shuts the door behind him, my father casts me a look, a long one that I guess is supposed to be meaningful, supposed to convey something to me but all it does is make me hate him a little more.

Fucking coward.

It’s only when they’re completely out of sight that I let myself breathe. I pretty much crumple in half, my palms resting on my knees as I suck in a breath. A hand curls around my shoulder. Dazed, my gaze drifts to my side to find Lux staring wide-eyed up at me, face pale and mouth slightly ajar. “What did you just do?”

“I have no idea.”

A week later and I still have no idea what I’ve done.

It happened a lot quicker than I thought it would. Actually, I didn’t really think it would happen at all. I anticipated a fight. I didn’t expect them to send the paperwork over before the weekend was even done. A couple of signatures and a check in the mail and that was it.

They must have been more eager to get rid of the place than I thought.

Or, more likely, eager to get rid of us.

Whatever. It’s no skin off my back. The place is mine.

Serenity Ranch is mine.

Well, technically mine. Really, the place has always been Lux’s, in the way that counts.

I thought she was going to kill me, when I actually went through with the sale. At first, she got angry, berating me endlessly about how reckless I am. Then she got all weird and soppy and cried while hugging me and thanking me for making them leave. And then she got angry again, at our dad this time, cursing his name and calling him every derogatory name under the sun.

He tried to call. Or at least I assume the random numbers blowing up my phone, the girls’ phones and the ranch’s landline have all been him. I ignored every single one, made sure the girls did too, and blocked any number I didn’t recognize.

He doesn’t get to do this. He doesn’t get to miss our entire lives and then suddenly show up when we’re all grown, after the hard part is done. After Lux and I did the hard part for him. He doesn’t get to be some sick consolation prize. Like, hey, you lost one parent, but here’s a backup.

I got paranoid that he would turn up again unannounced and get to the girls this time so I packed them up like I wanted to do the second the funeral finished and carted them all down to Sun Valley for a couple of days. Lux put up a bit of a fight—she acts like the place will sink into the ground if she leaves it—but the others were more than happy. Even Lottie. The guys didn’t mind letting them stay with us, thank God. Nick’s hardly ever here anyway so I stuck the twins in his room and let Eliza and Lux have my room while I took the couch.

My friends each had their own different reactions to finding out about what I’d done since they’d last seen me. Nick barked out a laugh and clapped me on the back, snickering under his breath as he wished me luck. Cass smirked and asked if this means he gets a discount in the guesthouses now; Lux responded with a scoffed ‘hell no.’ Ben just blinked at me and said, “Are you still rich? Or are you normal like the rest of us now?”

I just laughed.

We haven’t really been doing much the last few days. We’ve just been… dealing, I guess. With everything that’s happened. I had a game earlier today, so I brought them to that. It felt nice having someone cheering in the stand for me again. I missed that.

They leave sooner than I’d like—Lux had some appointment she needed to get back for—and the second her car disappears from sight, I start wishing I’d gone out after the game like the guys did.

The house feels too quiet, too empty, and as I laze on the couch, it hits me that this is the first time I’ve been alone since everything happened. The first time I’ve had a second to think. To process, or whatever.

I don’t like it. I don’t really want to. What’s done is done, I can’t change it, and if I have to think about my fucked up family for one more second, I might lose it.

But my mind won’t let me not think about it. It keeps straying to the day of the funeral, easily one of the weirdest days of my life. It felt so wrong. Like nothing that was happening was real. Like I wasn’t actually there, just watching from afar. All these people were in my house, people who didn’t even know my mom, they just came for us, her kids.

I hated it, the crowd and the attention, but I was grateful for it at the same time. I’m glad the girls have a support system since I can’t be there all the time. At least, not until after I graduate.

It’s ironic that the one bright spot in my day came in the form of someone who makes my chest ache every time I look at her. I knew the others were coming but I didn’t think she would. I didn’t realize how much I wanted her to, how much I needed her to, until she was in my living room and my knees almost gave out at the sight of her.

It was weird, how normal everything felt. How easily we fell back into that familiar pattern. Sad too, because I had this voice in the back of my head constantly reminding me that it was only temporary. That much was proved when I woke up the next morning and found a cold, empty spot in my bed.

Pathetic, really.

At my own mother’s fucking funeral and all I could think about was her.

No wonder I drank myself silly.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I grimace at the message from Cass asking, no, me to join them. I don’t really want to. I’m not sure I’m in the mood to be around drunk people, especially the baseball guys.

But I’m definitely not in the mood to be alone.

With a groan, I mutter a ‘fuck it’ and scoop my keys up off the kitchen table, texting Cass back with one hand and pulling the front door open with the other. I don’t realize there’s someone standing on the other side until I almost knock them down.

A surprised shriek echoing in my ears, I reach out to stabilise whoever the hell I almost flattened, getting a handful of soft skin as I yank them forward. When the scent of vanilla tickles my nose, my face falls in a frown.

“Luna?”