Page 50 of Courting the Consequences

That had hurt the most. She had started all of this by dating just him, not his brothers. Now she didn’t know where she stood with any of them. She hated the self-conscious doubts that crept in, hated how the little girl deep inside her that just wanted to be loved showed her ugly head.

She forced down the feelings and the thoughts and decided to call her big brother. It had been too long since they’d had one of their talks, and she missed him.

She curled up on the couch in the great room and pressed her phone to her ear. “Hola, mi estrella brillante” (hello, my shining star). Marcos’s deeply accented voice answered on the third ring. It was loud on his end, lots of shouting. She heard a door close before the sound was cut off.

“Hey, big brother,” she greeted with a sigh.

“Oh no,chaparrita(shorty). I know that sigh,” he groaned. “What happened?A quien tengo que matar?” (Who do I have to kill?)

She smiled sadly even though he couldn’t see her. “Nah, it’s not like that,manito. I’m just having a bad day.”

He hummed noncommittedly. “What have you been up to?” he asked instead.

“I met someone,” she started, wondering how to broach the subject of dating three men. She honestly didn’t even know if she was datingthem or if they were just fucking around at this point.

Marcos chuckled darkly. “Yeah, lilmanita? He the reason you’re calling me upset?”

Kara rolled her eyes. Maybe she shouldn’t have called him after all. He could always read her, always catch her in a lie, even over the phone.

“No, Marquitos,” she groaned. “I told you, I had a bad day. You gonna keep being an ass, or can I tell you about them?”

“Them?” He homed in on that word immediately.

Now Kara did groan. Her brother was ten years older than her and took after their mother more than she did. He was raised more Mexican while she had been raised more American. Even their last names were different: Marcos Candela and Kara Carmichael.

Their mother had claimed it was because she was born with blond hair and blue eyes that she had received their father’s last name. Kara didn’t question it because Marc hated talking about their father.

She hadn’t even told him about her visit to Mac in county jail. There was a lot she hadn’t told her brother about in the last two months. Their weekly text check-ins were lacking.

“Si, manito,” she sighed and stood from the couch. She started pacing, figuring she might as well tell him. “Them. I’m dating three men at the same time.”

“Pinche cabróns,” (fucking bastards). Marcos growled. “The hell you are. No sister of mine will be some whore,” he added in English. His tone immediately set her off, her own anger rising to the challenge.

“Well you better believe it, Marcos,” she snapped. “Because I just spent all weekend with the three of them getting railed in every hole I’ve got, and I fucking loved it! So fuck you and your backward-ass thinking.” She hung up the phone after that.

He didn’t call back.

She finally gave in to her tears and went into her bedroom to bury herself under the covers as the sobs racked her body. She hated fighting with her brother, hated that she had to defend herself with him and put up with his chauvinistic bullshit all the time.

Some days he was more like their father than he knew.

The next morning, Kara woke to crusty and swollen eyes. She hadn’t taken her makeup off before crying her eyes out all night. She had barely slept. Her throat hurt and her nose was stuffy. She sent her assistant a text that she wouldn’t be coming into the office and crawled back to bed.

She managed to sleep for a couple more hours and felt a little better when she woke up. She rolled out of bed and hit the shower right away. It was after ten when she finished.

Her face was still slightly puffy from crying, but her sinuses were clear again. She knew her throat would be better once she had some water. She headed to the kitchen to find something to eat when she heard her phone ringing from the bedroom. She doubled back for her phone and groaned when she saw her father’s name on the screen.

She thought about ignoring the call but knew he would just continue to blow up her phone until she answered him. “Good morning, Dad,” she greeted pleasantly.

“Morning, daughter,” he replied. Well that was good at least; it sounded like he was in a good mood.

“How can I help you this morning?” She headed for the kitchen with the phone pressed to her ear.

“Well, I’m wondering where you are. I’m at the office and you aren’t here,” he deadpanned.

Kara stopped dead in her living room. “You’re in town?” she questioned.

“Sure am. Thought I would swing by the office and check on my darling daughter and see if she wanted to do lunch.”

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