Page 2 of Nevermore (A Cruel Love #1)

ONE

REIGN

She’s a stubborn one.

I huff out an exasperated breath as I adjust the ball cap on my head, angling it so the Texas sun doesn’t make my already sunburned face any worse.

“Mama, don’t do that!” I chastise as I hop out of the truck bed and rush to her. “It’s heavy!”

Mama throws her head back with a laugh as she carries the last box out of our rickety trailer. “It’s just your old baby clothes. Wasn’t about to leave that to the poor saps movin’ in later.”

“What do you need my baby clothes for?” I ask as I take the box from her. “I thought we wanted to clear out some of this goddamn shit.”

“Reign Morrison!” she scolds, slapping my arm. “You did not just take the good Lord’s name in vain on a Sunday!”

I chuckle as I set the box down in the truck bed and raise the tailgate.

Wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans, I accept the bottle of water she hands me and take long thirsty gulps.

She gasps when I take my ball cap off and pour some water on the top of my head.

“What?” I ask. “It’s hot as hell, Mama.”

“We’re supposed to be lookin’ presentable today,” she says, sighing as she looks down at the new dress she got from the thrift store earlier this week. “I’m guessin’ this’ll do.”

Clicking my tongue, I shake my head. “You know you’re the prettiest… except in the mornin’ when you insist on blastin’ your music at seven for the whole world to hear.”

“Glad I raised such a gentleman,” she jokes with a roll of her eyes. Clapping her hands, she ushers me to the front of the truck. “Come on, now. They’re waitin’ for us and we’re already late.”

I groan because the inevitable has finally come.

I thought maybe I could sweet talk my way into staying at the trailer park by myself, seeing as I’m eighteen and legally allowed to make my own decisions, but my mom wouldn’t have it.

She was ready to whoop my behind for even suggesting it.

Apparently, her little angel baby is not going to spend the summer living on his own in this town.

My shoulders slump as I make my way to the passenger side of the truck, hopping in with so much reluctance that she snorts. “Baby, it ain’t gonna be that bad. You’ll like Emiliano.”

I deadpan her with a look. How am I supposed to like a guy I’ve never met? “You kept him a secret for however long you two were datin’. Now you’re married—in secret, by the way—and you expect me to just be alright?”

“It wasn’t in secret . It was in the moment .” She sighs dreamily as she starts the truck. “He took me to Paris and the lights were just so beautiful. I ain’t ever seen anythin’ like it, Reign. When he got down on one knee, I didn’t think. I was just so happy.”

It’s obvious to her that I’m still bitter about the fact that her only son didn’t even know she was dating this jerk until she came home from her mystery ‘girl’s trip’ with a ring on her finger and plans to move us both to the extravagantly extra town which is Crescent Hills.

She claimed she didn’t want to bring another man into my life unless she was certain he was ‘the one’ and it turns out she must have found him.

My mom is an amazing person. A true free spirit.

She leads with her heart but doesn’t always think of the consequences of her actions.

After my dad died when I was five, she went from boyfriend to boyfriend trying to find one that would stick.

It wasn’t because she was desperate to have someone take care of us but more so just wanting to have love in her life.

For the most part, all she dated were assholes who didn’t treat her right, so it’s no surprise she kept this one a secret for so long.

But seriously? Marriage ?

I try to put on a happy face when she pouts, because I really do want her to be happy.

After the life she’s lived, she deserves it more than most. Still, I’m skeptical that this arrangement is going to work.

She’s from the ‘wrong side of the tracks’ and Emiliano—fancy ass name—is apparently the richest of the rich.

Some fancy media type or something like that.

And, to top it all off, I get a stepbrother to boot.

I haven’t even met him and I’m already nervous.

I don’t do well around other people. With my mom, I’m perfectly fine.

She’s my best friend and we do everything together.

With other people… let’s just say I make a fool of myself nine times out of ten.

It’s uncomfortable and gives me this scratchy feeling in my chest. After four years, I got used to being the odd one out at my school.

The one that was freaky smart but freaky quiet.

Awkward in all social situations. Kind of a bumbling mess.

Now I have to be a bumbling mess around a stepbrother .

It still feels weird to say. Living as a single child, I’m not used to having to share my space with anybody but my mama. Based on the way she talks though, it seems like sharing a space isn’t going to be necessary.

“Just think, baby,” she starts as she turns out of the trailer park and onto the highway. “We can do so much now. You’ve always wanted to travel and Emiliano is so generous. We can take family trips like we always should have.”

I frown. “Mama, there ain’t nothin’ wrong with the way we were livin’ our lives. I was perfectly fine stayin’ put.”

It’s the truth too. I always knew that based on our financial situation, we couldn’t live a life of luxury.

It’s not uncommon around these parts, so I never felt like I was missing out.

My mom already had to work two jobs to keep up the payments on the trailer park, and I had to work at the local fast food joint.

I always figured I wouldn’t go to college either—no way in hell to afford that—so I’ve made my peace with it all.

“We could teach you how to drive?” she suggests, blue eyes bright with excitement. “That’d be sweet, wouldn’t it? I never had the time but now I do!”

I nod along. If there’s one thing I’m happy about is that Mama doesn’t have to work anymore.

Not because she’s being spoiled or all of a sudden turned into less of a hard worker, but she finally gets a break.

I’m sure after a few months she’ll get antsy for a way to get out of the house, but for now I think she should enjoy it.

“What’s the kid’s name again?” I ask, staring out the window at the passing industrial buildings that grow fewer and farther in between. “His son?”

“He’s eighteen, just like you,” she answers with a roll of her eyes. “And it’s Santiago. Beautiful, right? I ain’t ever met him, but I’m sure he’s a sweetheart just like his daddy.”

I gulp. Let’s hope that’s the case. It’d be manageable to have to spend a few months with a decently cool guy, but with an evil stepbrother?

I think I'd die before I could get out of the house, which is exactly the plan. Get a good paying job with benefits—maybe fixing cars or doing electrical repair—and get my own place. Build a life I can be proud of and stand on my own two feet. Show my mom that all her efforts raising me weren’t for nothing.

The ride to Crescent Hill takes about an hour, but it’s obvious when we turn off the highway that I’ve been transported into another dimension.

My jaw drops, because I’ve never been here before, and it’s absolutely shocking.

The stark difference between where I grew up and where I’m spending the summer is like night and day.

To start, there definitely aren’t any trailers around these parts.

The actual town looks like it’s plucked out of some fancy show about ritzy teenagers who solve crimes or some shit like that.

Everything is polished and perfect with the cute brick buildings that are a humble contrast to all the damn lakes.

This is Texas. Why are there so many fucking lakes?

We pull up in front of a thick iron gate and Mama stops the car. “Ooo, this is my favorite part.” She squeals as she reaches into her purse for a clicker. “He gave me this when I saw him a few days ago. Look, baby. Watch what it does.”

Like it’s some fabulous magic trick, she clicks the controller and the gate opens all on its own.

I don’t want to burst her bubble and tell her that I’ve seen cooler things on TV, so I just nod along with her enthusiasm.

Figures these two would live in a gated community, even though Crescent Hills is known for their almost zero percent crime rate.

I try to keep my cool as we enter the neighborhood but my breath still gets caught in my throat with every house we pass.

It’s… I don’t even know what to say. Every house is different and big as fuck.

For someone who lived in a one bedroom trailer home his entire life, seeing homes that must have at least five bedrooms is like a culture shock to me.

Perfectly manicured lawns, luxury cars parked in the driveway, and… Is that a fucking tower on that house?

“It’s called a turret,” she tells me when she notices my surprise. “It’s cool. I read about it the other day.”

I roll my eyes and try not to give her shit, but she makes it too easy. “You mean in that—” I make air quotes “—educational literature about medieval times?”

It’s smut.

“Reign,” she gasps, reaching over to slap my arm. “Hush. You better keep that sass in check when you meet the family.”

The word ‘family’ doesn’t sit well with me. She and I are family. It’s always been us against the world and letting someone else in just seems so… off. Still, I’m going to put forth my best effort for her. Like I said, her happiness is all that matters to me.

“This’ll be great, Mama,” I tell her. I straighten in my seat and gesture at myself. “You look good. How about me?”

She licks her lips and wrinkles her nose. “Did you even take a shower before comin’?”

“I was too busy movin’ all our shit?—”

“Reign Morrison! The cursin’, baby!”

“Sorry,” I mumble, sinking into my seat. “Alright. Which one of these palaces is ours?”