Page 77 of Royally Bad

She stood there as if she hadn’t been gone for ten years.

Lulabelle.

My older sister.

- CHAPTER TWENTY -

SAMMY

“Lula!” Frannie squealed, jumping onto the other woman. Where the twin was tan, Lula was light. Her dark eyes were more like Hawthorne’s, her long hair pulled into a loose tail that ran closer to caramel brown than the rich mahogany of her sister’s hair.

I barely recognized her from the family photo, but I was smart enough to realize who she had to be.

Holding her tightly, Lula said something into Fran’s ear. I couldn’t hear it, but it made Fran pull back, her eyes suddenly narrowed. “I know,” she said, “and I don’t care. Gawd, it was just a wedding, you had your reasons for not making it.”

It was plain as day that whatever Fran said, she was hurt by her sister not being here for her big day. Lula hesitated, then she just gave the girl another quick hug. Pulling free, she eyed the large kitchen. Her hand came up, waving casually at all of us. “Hey,” she said. “Long time no see.”

Maverick rushed forward, breaking the frozen moment. Crushing his daughter in his arms, he held her so long it should have been awkward. It wasn’t.

Her mother hadn’t moved, she—much like Costello—just stared from where she was.

Puffing out a bit of air, Kain said, “Don’t hog her, Dad.”

The large man deflated, patting the woman on the shoulders even as he disengaged. Standing aside, he let Kain and Hawthorne take turns embracing Lula.

Thorne motioned at her suitcase. “How long are you staying, Lulabelle?”

“I don’t know yet.” Her glance at Costello was so fast I almost missed it.

Dropping beside me again, Kain gripped one of my hands under the table. I clasped it in return, smiling at him. The tension was thick, and still, I understood so little of it.

I realized Lulabelle was staring at me. Leaning away from Kain, I waved a hand. “Hey. I’m Sammy.”I’m the girl who’s trapped here.I didn’t say it, of course, but I kind of wanted to.

Mama Badd stood up, shoving her chair backward from the table. “Well. Tonight we should have a nice celebration. We can bring in a florist, some live music ... the works.”

“How?” Fran mumbled. “Daddy won’t let us bring anyone onto the estate, he thinks everyone is out to murder us.”

“Frannie!” her mother snapped.

I’d seen them all together once before. That photo where they were all smiling ...

Where the future looked bright.

None of them looked happy now. Especially not Francesca.

Lulabelle shifted enough to face her father. “You know what, I don’t even want to know what she’s talking about. It was a long flight, I’ll be happy just to get settled in.”

He held out a wide arm, corralling her from the kitchen.

The rest of us were left to the silence. Mama Badd hovered by the sink, her lips trembling, moving from an uncertain smile to a much more solid frown. The appearance of Lulabelle had thrown their world for a loop.

Hawthorne ran his hands down the front of his shirt. “Come on, Mom.” Heading to her, he scooped up her elbow. I wasn’t used to seeing him acting so ... kind. “Let’s go look over some ideas. Lula might not want a celebration, but fuck her, we can still throw something together anyway. Dad isn’t stopping me from going anywhere, I’ll buy whatever you want.”

Patting his arm, she let him lead her from the kitchen. “Buying me things? You always know how to cheer me up.”

Costello had been as still as a suit of armor in a museum. Abruptly he pushed off the wall, his legs cutting a path from the room.

And then there were three.