Page 27 of Nevermore (A Cruel Love #1)

TWENTY-FIVE

REIGN

Mama’s acting weird today.

I watch her as she flutters around the kitchen, trying her hardest to make… something. She’s never been what anyone can consider good at cooking. Growing up, I’d eat everything she gave me, mostly because I never wanted to hurt her feelings, but partly because there were never any other options.

Now, however, with the gourmet chef, I do wonder what the fuck she’s doing.

“Mama,” I start slowly, feeling her frazzled energy. “Is everythin’ alright?”

She whips her head at me wildly, blue eyes big and chaotic. “Of course, baby. Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Because you preheated the oven three different times now. Didn’t even know you could do that…” I mumble. I stand from the kitchen island when I see her trying to reach for a bowl on the top shelf. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Duck,” she says proudly as she kisses my cheek. “It’ll be great. Emiliano needs a nice home cooked meal.”

I raise a brow at that. I don’t think duck counts as ‘nice’ or ‘home cooked’ but I guess we’re just going with it. “How can I help?”

“Well, you can prepare… that,” she says, pointing at the duck.

Okayyyy . Nevermind that the only food I’m familiar with is a double patty melt, but I’ll give it my best effort. I move to the counter and poke at the raw duck, feeling the slimy goo, and gulp. Fuck me.

Knowing there’s definitely more to this cooking craze, I begin tentatively. “Mama, I know somethin’s eatin’ at you.”

She shakes her head. “It’s nothin’.”

“ Holly Morrison .”

“Fine,” she relents, throwing her hands in the air.

She comes up beside me and places gentle hands on my shoulders that can only mean trouble.

It’s a familiar gesture. It’s what she did when Dad died and what she did when she told me about this move to Crescent Hills.

Still, I’m patient as I wait for her to spill whatever monumental news is making her like this. “We’re gonna have a weddin’.”

My eyes widen and I chuckle in relief as I pick up the duck. “That’s it? Just a weddin’? You’re already married, though.”

She waves a dismissive hand. “I know but you and Santiago weren’t there for it. It’s a regret I have. I think we owe it to the both of you to do somethin’ special as a family.”

I nod. “I can see that. But why is it so bad that you started going all expert chef on me?”

“Because…” She takes a deep breath before spilling, “I’m pregnant.”

The poor duck slaps against the floor as everything comes crashing in. She’s?—

“What the fuck?”

“Reign Morrison! Language, baby!” she scolds, even though there’s a nervous lilt to her voice. “Emiliano and I… Well, it wasn’t planned, but we’re happy as clams. Can you imagine a new baby brother or sister?”

No, I absolutely can-fucking-not.

I know that underneath my shock I should be excited but—damn—it’s a bit daunting.

I don’t know the first thing about being a big brother.

It’s different from being a stepbrother where Santiago was already cooked and ready.

I have to be someone who can guide another.

A role model. Someone that’s going to make our already blended family so much more…

permanent. It’s not that I believed Emiliano wasn’t going to be permanent, but it’s funny how things settle in at different speeds.

But I can’t leave her hanging or make her feel bad about something so great. So, I bring her in for a hug and smile. “That’s great, Mama.”

When she pulls back, her eyes are misty and she sighs. “Ugh, I’m so glad you aren’t panickin’. I really think this is just amazin’. You and Santiago will share a sibling now, just like a true family.”

While I don’t believe sharing a sibling constitutes a ‘true family’, that’s not what I’m stuck on. It’s the fact that…

Oh, fuck me.

We’re going to share a sibling. Our already slightly taboo relationship is going to get even weirder. How do we explain what we’ve been doing? How can I tell my mom what I feel for Santiago has grown so deep—deeper than I ever thought—and I’m too selfish to give it up.

But that’s not what’s freaking me out.

What if he freaks out? What if Santiago decides this is too weird and we have to stop messing around?

I call it that because while my feelings have gotten intense, I have no clue about his.

The idea that he would put an end to this makes my heart race uncomfortably.

My hands get clammy and my throat dries up.

The desperation to keep this a secret for as long as possible overcomes me, but I know I can’t do that.

He deserves to know—no matter what decision he makes—and that breaks my heart.

Because I think I love him.

I think that’s what you call it when you can’t stop obsessing over someone. When their mere presence fills you with so much joy. When just their name makes butterflies flit around your stomach. I love him. It’s quick and it’s raw, but it’s there.

I fucking love him.

“Mmm, let’s just order pizza,” Mama says, sighing as she looks at the pathetic little duck. “Pepperoni okay?”

“Yeah,” I mutter through a gulp, still in a somewhat panicked daze. “Sounds good.”

She turns to leave but stops midway. She throws herself into my unprepared arms and gives me the biggest hug before pulling back to kiss my forehead. “We’re gonna have such a happy life, baby. I can’t wait.”

With that, she leaves to order pizza, and I’m left standing here like a dumbstruck idiot.

I don’t get to settle into my feelings for long, however, because Santiago appears at the very next second.

My head snaps up when I see him, and the truth is on the tip of my tongue, but he’s plastering me against the counter before I can even think.

“Hey,” he whispers in my ear, his hands dragging up and down my sides as he kisses my neck. “I was looking for you.”

“Yeah?” I mumble awkwardly.

“Yes,” he says. “I was thinking we could do something fun today.”

“Fun,” I parrot, still unable to fight the urge to say something. Gathering my courage, I shake my head and lead him over to the island. “We need to talk.”

He cocks his head but follows me. We both sit down and my heart leaps when he refuses the distance between us and drags my chair closer to his. Bracing his hands on either side of my face, worry creases his brows. “What is it, querido ?”

Not with the Spanish pet names, for fuck’s sake.

“Santi,” I start with dry chapped lips. “I gotta tell you somethin’.”

He nods. “What is it?”

“Mama…” I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. “Mama’s pregnant.”

I don’t know what I expected but it still hurts when his hands disappear a moment later.

I open my eyes and see shock and disgust covering his features.

I should have known—and maybe a part of me did—that he would react this way.

He stands quickly, shaking his head as he begins to pace. “No, she’s not.”

“Yeah, she is,” I state. “She’s pregnant and we’re?—”

“Going to have a sibling,” he cuts in quickly. He runs a hand down his mouth and groans. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

In desperation, I rush to him and take his hands. I know it’s pathetic—I can practically feel it—but I need him to know this doesn’t change anything for me. It should but I’m too damn selfish to care. “We’re still okay, right?”

“We’re still okay?” he throws back, his archaic face contorting in an anger I can’t say is unjustified. “Reign, how can we be okay ? We’re going to share a sibling.”

“I know,” I rush out. “But that doesn’t mean this has to end.”

“What? Fucking around with my stepbrother isn’t bad enough, now we add this to boot?”

That slices at my heart. “I thought you didn’t care about that?”

“This changes everything,” he snaps, pulling away from me. “Reign, we can’t do this anymore.”

I shake my head as tears pool in my eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, it fucking is!”

I don’t know what to do. Everything inside of me is crumbling as he takes another step back. I gulp because maybe I should have kept this to myself, but he obviously would have found out eventually. He drops his head into his hands and mumbles, “I can’t do this right now.”

“Wait!” I shout as he moves towards the garage door. “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“Santi—”

But I can’t finish whatever I was going to say before he’s out of my sight. I consider rushing after him but think better of it. He might just need some time. Time to think, to reflect, to?—

To decide that I’m not worth it after all.