Luscious (Topped #1)(3)

“How are you getting to rehab?”

“Bus.” He was still wobbly on the damn prosthetic. He’d fallen more than once and the humiliation always burned through him.

Adam sighed. “You’re coming home with me. What of this crap do I need to pack? And where’s your damn leg? Shouldn’t it be close to you?”

His brother got up and started walking around the apartment, poking into everything. Macon was ashamed of how messy he’d let the place get. He’d been taught to be neat, that everything had a place. “Adam, I can’t go with you.”

Adam turned. “Why not?”

He couldn’t think of a single reason why. Not one. He hated his life. He didn’t have a family anymore.

He could have a fresh start. Maybe in Dallas he wouldn’t sit around and drink all day. Maybe if he wasn’t constantly reminded of everything he’d lost, he could build something new. Did he even want that?

Adam came to stand in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder. It was the first time he’d been connected to his brother in years. “That old life is gone, Macon. Unless you want to try to win her back…”

“Not in a million years. I can’t stand the thought of that woman. Or Alan. Or…god, I hate them all, Adam. I f*cking hate them all. It eats me up inside until I don’t want to do anything but remember how much I hate them.”

“Then come to Dallas and we’ll start over. I have a son. I promise you can’t be around him and keep all that hate in your gut. You can stay in the guesthouse if you like. It’s really just a house. When we moved we bought two lots and kept one of the old houses while we built the dream house. Now we keep it for family. Jake’s got a massive family and it’s really easier to not share a house with all of them. You can stay there long term and I’ll find a physical therapist in the neighborhood.”

Adam had a baby? A son? He had a nephew? He couldn’t let his nephew see him like this. He had to clean up. He had to sober up. Damn. He did have a family. Adam was offering him one.

“Macon?”

Macon focused again. “Why? Why would you help me?”

Adam sighed and leaned forward. “Because you’re my brother. Because I learned a long time ago that life is way too short to hold grudges or to waste it on hating things we can’t change. I would like my son to know one of his uncles. I would like to be a brother to you and I would definitely like to avoid having to bury you, and I’m fairly certain that’s where all this is heading if you don’t come with me.”

A single moment played out in his head, the memory as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. He’d been standing in the doorway, watching his big brothers getting in the car to go away to school. He couldn’t go to school, but Alan and Adam were going to learn how to be soldiers, like their dad. They would be gone for a long time. They were going to something called boarding school.

Just when he thought they would leave without another word, Adam had bolted back and he’d hugged Macon. “I’ll miss you.”

They weren’t supposed to hug, but it felt right. He held on to his brother until their father broke them up and hustled Adam to the car.

He’d been left behind, but Adam wasn’t leaving him behind this time. Despite everything that had happened, Adam was here.

He could stay and let hate eat up his whole f*cking life or he could start over.

“My prosthetic is in the bathroom, but I might have used it to smash the mirror, so you should probably watch out for that.”

Adam shook his head. “You’re seeing a shrink, too.”

He would if Adam told him to. It was far past time to listen to someone who had it together. “And I don’t need to bring much.”

Some clothes and one book. His mother’s recipe book.

Maybe it would come in handy.





Sarah Allyson Jones stared down at the headstones. One was fresh, the other only months old. She’d spent all the cash she had left on those two slabs of marble and concrete.

Sunshine washed over the graves. It was a gorgeous Georgia day and that seemed like the greatest insult of all. The grass was green, forsythia in full bloom. Everywhere she looked there were peaceful plants coming to life. The cemetery was a contrast—a garden of green for the dead.

She wanted rain. She wanted the plants to rot and the sky to fall around her.

She wanted to go back to the woman she’d been before Ronnie’s death. No. Before her mother’s illness. Had it really been so long since she’d laughed and teased and felt like she had a future?

“Your mother was a kind woman,” a soft voice said. When Sarah turned around she saw the preacher standing there. Reverend Alton was a nice man. She’d been going to his church since she was a teenager. “The last few months of her life were an aberration.”

The last few months of her life had been all about pain and lies. Agony from the cancer eating her lungs and lies from the Army. Her mother had sent her only son off to fight for his country and all she’d gotten back was a pine box and lies about how he died.

Ronnie hadn’t been her blood. Sarah had been a foster kid who won the lottery. She’d been thirteen when Carla Rowe agreed to foster her long enough to find a permanent home. A few months had turned into years, and she’d found a better home than the misery she had before.