Games of the Heart (The 'Burg #4)(22)

And Debbie hated it that all her life her Dad would grouse good-naturedly, “My Dusty-girl, such a rascal,” when Dusty would do something sassy or be what everyone but Debbie thought was adorably mouthy. And she hated it when Dad took Dusty and Darrin out to walk through the rows of corn and share his farmer wisdom. “My boy will carry the legacy, but even if he doesn’t, my girl will,” he’d boasted only for Dusty to take off like a shot after high school, proving him wrong. Did he care? No. Instead, years later, he’d brag about her f**king pottery like she didn’t make big, over-priced plates but like she cured f**king cancer.

Did either of them brag about the fact that Debbie made six figures, won the DC Woman in Law award twice and was asked to lecture all over the f**king country? No. All she got from Mom was, “Uh…honey, are you sure he didn’t do it?” when she’d defended that (alleged) ra**st who was all over the papers. Admittedly, she had serious suspicions he did do it but she couldn’t share that and it didn’t matter anyway. All she could say was, “Everyone’s entitled to a defense, Mom.” To which her mother mumbled, “All right, Debbie.” And to which her father, much later when they were all in The ‘Burg visiting, said under his breath when he thought she couldn’t hear, “Yeah, entitled as long as they can pay the bills and that guy was a millionaire who thought his shit didn’t stink and he could do anything. Guess Debbie proved that right.” This after they’d talked, or she did, since Darrin, Rhonda, Dad and Mom didn’t say a word, about how she got him off.

And Debbie hated it all her life that Darrin took Dusty’s side all the time. “She’s our little sis, Deb, we gotta look out for her,” Darrin would say but he was full of shit. He, just like everybody, thought the sun shone out of Dusty’s ass. They grew older, Debbie had to watch as her brother and sister grew even tighter. She knew Darrin and Dusty talked all the time. She knew his kids preferred their Aunt Dusty’s presents and her company. She knew that half the times Darrin called Dusty or Dusty called Darrin, Rhonda would get on the phone and jabber Dusty’s ear off about some stupid f**king shit.

It didn’t occur to Debbie that Darrin had tried the same with her the minute she went to Notre Dame and kept trying it even through law school. It didn’t occur to her that she blew him off because she was busy studying or she had better shit to do so he stopped.

All she knew was Dusty and Darrin Holliday were closer than close, tighter than tight and that just grew deeper as they grew older and, as ever, Debbie had no part of it.

Staring at Mike staring after Dusty’s car driving away, Debbie Holliday decided this was it. She was done. This was the end.

Because f**king Dusty had pulled her bullshit antics over two f**king decades before, cozying up to Mike, getting in his face, getting in both their space and Mike was a good guy. But Debbie knew he wasn’t putting up with her little sister because he was a good guy. He was putting up with her sister because, just like everybody, he fell for her shit.

And Debbie hated it way back when and, seeing what she’d just seen, she seriously f**king hated it now.

Debbie Holliday wasn’t stupid. She knew Mike Haines was the best thing she’d ever had. She knew it then and she gave it up because she wanted out of that nowhere town. But Mike made it clear, even back in high school, he was a small town guy, he was a hometown guy and he wasn’t going anywhere. So he broke it off and she let him, giving him up to get what she wanted.

And Dusty, just like f**king Dusty, slid right in to take away what was Debbie’s. It might have taken her twenty years but she did it.

And she used Darrin’s death to do it too.

What a bitch.

And Mike, God, she thought, years ago, he’d seen through Dusty’s bullshit when she went all grunge or goth or whatever the f**k it was. But, apparently, just like everyone else, she’d pulled the wool right over his eyes. Fuck, a cop, and he still didn’t see.

Debbie understood, rationally, that she had no intention of going there. Yes, if Mike had walked through the door she opened the day before, she would have been at his house like a shot to enjoy him and that tall, delicious body of his so she could forget all the shit swirling around her. Hell, he’d been a fantastic lover even as a teenager. Maybe not in the beginning but, seriously, even as a boy-man, he learned quick how to use his mouth, his hands and better parts of his body. And even as a boy-man he was driven to make sure she got something out of it too. Again, maybe not in the beginning, but he learned that quickly too and she let him. If he’d walked through that door yesterday, she knew nothing could come of it. She was going back to DC and she’d never, ever call The ‘Burg home again.

But that didn’t mean he was open to Dusty.

Debbie sat in her parked car and watched Mike walk to his dark blue Chevy Equinox vaguely thinking he needed to trade up. She didn’t know cars very well but it appeared his was at least two years old. She thought this as she thought not so vaguely that he’d never lost that sexy as f**k loose-limbed, masculine grace he’d had since high school.

Then she watched him swing in.

Then she watched him drive away.

Then she sat in her car, seething.

Her little sister.

Her f**king little sister.

Jesus, some things never changed.

Even the shit that should.

She switched on the ignition and drove back to her childhood home that she knew was now empty because her family was having brunch with her f**king little sister and she did this to take her Sunday conference call.