Page 1 of Wanting Wentworth

ONE

Kaitlyn

BARR TT RANCH, BARRETT VALLEY, MONTANA JUNE 2010

I wake up a full ten minutes before my alarm goes off. Instead of closing my eyes and rolling over to wait out the clock in blessed silence, I use the time to count all the ways my life is unfair.

It’s summer vacation. At seventeen and a newly minted senior in high school, I should be just crawling into bed—not getting ready to stumble out of it. Unfortunately for me, I’ve never seen the fun side of 3AM.

To tell the truth, I haven’t seen the fun side of anything in a very long time.

And who’s fault is that, exactly?

Throwing back the covers with a grumbling huff, I click on the bedside lamp and am promptly rewarded with an answering groan.

“It’s too early...” My sister mumbles from her twin bed beside mine, eyes screwed shut against the pale glow. “Turn it off, I’m sleeping...”

Standing in the narrow space between our beds, I want nothing more then to snatch my pillow up and whack her with it. Abbey’s fifteen and undeniably our father’s favorite.

“Sorry, princess—some of us don’t get to sleep until noon,” I hiss instead of whacking her in the head because if I whacked her, I’d never hear the end of it. “Some of us have chores.”

“S’okay...” Abbey gives me a sleepy shrug under her comforter. “Just be quiet,” she says before she rolls over in her bed, turning her face into the wall to block out the light.

Spoiled brat.

Dressing quickly and quietly so she doesn’t tattle on me at the breakfast table, I click off the light before heading downstairs. When I get to the kitchen, my older brother, Luke, is standing at the sink, steaming mug of coffee in his hand while he looks out the window above it.

When he hears me, Luke turns away from the window to watch me while I make my way to the coffee pot to pour my own cup. “What are you doing up?” I ask, careful to keep my voice down while I pull a travel mug out of the cupboard. It’s three o’clock in the morning. Not even our father wakes up this early.

“Never went to bed.” He gives me a crooked grin that almost always means trouble where Luke is concerned. “Me and a few of the guys went into town to shoot some pool at the Saddle.” The Saddle is shorthand for Silver Saddle—pretty much the only place you can go in Barrett if you want to hear music or shoot pool. Even though it’s technically a bar and grill which means they allow minors in and most of the valley kids hang out there every weekend, I’m not allowed to step so much as a foot inside without an escort.

For Luke it’s different. He’s twenty-three and a man. That means he can do whatever he wants. “After we shot a few games, Kelsey Hanover showed up with a few of her friends and we—”

“Nope.” I cut him off while emptying the rest of the pot into my mug—a small revenge for the fact that I’m my father’s designated work horse. If he wants coffee, he can make his own. “I do not need to hear what my big brother did with Kelsey Hanover on his two-week leave, thank you very much.” Switching off the machine, I set the empty carafe next to it. “I’m barely over catching the two of you skinny-dipping up at Northpoint last summer—I don’t need any more nightmare fuel.”

Instead of being offended, Luke laughs. “Speaking of nightmare fuel...” Finishing the last of his coffee, he rinses out his cup before turning away from the window. Leaning his hips against the counter, he gives me a chin jerk. “I saw Brock Morris out last night.”

When Luke says his name, my shoulders stiffen on reflex and I have to force myself to relax. Reaching for the sugar bowl, I give my cup a heaping spoonful and concentrate on stirring it. “Hmmm...” Making a sound in the back of my throat, I turn toward the refrigerator to retrieve the half and half.

“He and Amanda Swanson were all over each other,” he tells me, his careful tone telling me he’s not sure if it’s something he should mention or not.

“Good for them.” When I turn around again, Luke is where I left him, leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. “What?” I ask, shutting the fridge. I know what—I just don’t want to talk about it.

“Don’t what me, Kaity,” Luke frowns at me, suddenly serious. “I’ve been home for three days and you didn’t even tell me that you two broke up.”

“It’s not a big deal.” Walking the carton of half and half to my mug, I pinch it open and give my coffee a generous pour. “And why the hell would I want to talk about my love life with my big brother?” When I say love life, Luke blanches slightly and I can’t help but laugh. “See? Not fun, is it?”

“Fair enough...” Unfolding one of his arms, he gestures for the carton. Walking it back to the fridge, Luke sighs, putting it away before leaning against the closed door to look at me. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Absolutely not.” I give him a firm headshake. “Brock and I are over. That’s all you need to know.”

Still frowning at me, Luke isn’t ready to give up just yet. “And the fact that, last time I looked, Amanda Swanson was your best friend?”

This time I give him an evasive shrug. “We grew apart.”

“Okay, so…” Luke grimaces slightly before looking away. “What I heard about Brock catching you cheating on him—”

“Is a lie.” Even though I knew it was coming, hearing Luke say it still feels like a slap across the face. A kick in the ribs.

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