Page 24 of Bad to the Bone

“They’re going to be packing up soon. I didn’t want you guys to miss anything. I made them bring out the fresh fruit and passed on the picked over stuff.” She bounces in her seat and waves her fork as she talks, reverting to her younger self. It seems like we are all feeling carefree.

We avail ourselves of the muffins and tea and something that says it’s supposed to be coffee but smells like tree bark.

“You’re walking like an old man,” I tease Zayne, taking note of the slight stiffness in his gait as he returns to the table.

“You’re one to talk,” he says with a wink.

“Oh, barf. Get a room you two….no, on second thought, don’t.”

“Too late, we already have one,” I pipe up.

Brother and sister take one glance at each other and wrinkle their noses.

“What?”

“Oh nothing. Just maybe this isn’t the right moment to bring that up,” Zayne says, patting my hand.

“Why not?”

“Well, let’s see. If you and Zayne get married that would make him my brother-uncle, and your kid would be my cousin-nephew.”

The thought sends a shiver down my spine and I grimace for a moment.

“Oh yeah, in one swoop you’ve turned me into an Appalachian stereotype. Thanks Aunt Kim,” she says with a smile.

“Wait, so does that make us…” I am almost afraid to look too carefully at Zayne’s relationship to me.

“It makes us nothing. Your relationship to Shannon is maternal. Mine is paternal. There are no blood lines crossing here. It’s just going to be weird at Thanksgiving,” Zayne says, taking a bite out of his muffin and giving me a goofy smile.

“Well thank god for small miracles. Weird I can handle.”

“I don’t know what you two are so happy about. I’m the one who has to take the hit here! How do I explain to people that my brother is dating my aunt without sounding like I come from the kind of family tree that goes in concentric circles?” Shannon’s incredulous expression elicits laughter from the whole table.

“You always were a good team player,” I choke out between giggles.

“Yeah, thanks for taking one for the team,” Zayne says, his eyes full of tenderness. He means it. They share one of those warm brother-sister moments, clasping hands and smiling at each other.

I feel like an asshole for ever being jealous of that look. Shannon has lost too many people in her short life. She deserves to have as many people on her side as possible. And, long lost brother or not, Zayne isn’t a bad guy to have on your side.

We eat our breakfast and I sip my tea slowly. Shannon has the resort’s website up on her phone and is carefully selecting the items on her itinerary. Zayne generously agrees to pay for whatever extras she decides to get. Tickled pink by the opportunity, she wastes no time in taking off to the gift shop for a new swimsuit and the first spa treatment of the day.

“Show off,” I scold, leaning against his wide chest and letting the drowsiness that I have been evading slowly creep into my sleep deprived body. Zayne dips his head and kisses my forehead, pulling my body closer to his as I struggle to find the strength to lift my lead lined eye lids.

“How about I call in sick and we stay for a day or two,” I mumble.

Zayne’s body goes stiff, and he jumps. His once steady, soothing heartbeat becomes erratic under my ear. I open my eyes, blinded for a moment by the bright morning light.

“How about you call out for good, and get the hell away from my son,” says a voice I don’t have to think twice to identify.

“Dad-”

“You shut up!” Mayor Turner’s eyes are ablaze with fury as he towers over us in the nearly empty dining room.

“Mr. Turner, I-”

“You know, MISS Macmillian, I like you,” he interrupts me. “I do. You are a bright young woman. You are also predictable.”

“Fuck,” Zayne mumbles under his breath. I can feel the tremor pass through his body as fear and panic overtake his brain.

“I wasn’t trying to be evasive,” I say defiantly. I always had more courage than brains. “You wanted me to keep Shannon away from him and I told you that they weren’t dating.”

“Right. How could they? You were fucking him yourself. It’s not like Macmillian women to share,” he says softly. The gentleness in his voice is more frightening than his dark presence itself.

“You caught us. Now what do you want,” Zayne says, tightening his grip on my shoulder.

“Oh, you don’t get to make the demands now. This is what they refer to as, having you over a barrel, son. And I’ve got you from every angle.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cell phone. Cuing up a video, he sits the screen down in front of us. Before the video starts the pit in my stomach tells me what I am going to see.

---