Page 130 of Second Sets Omnibus

“See? I'm Seger fucking West. The real fucking deal.” Turning to his twin who can only be Zeppelin fucking West with a gigantic grin and murmur, he says, “I think she and Kace would get along fucking fine.”

Zepp side-eyes Seger with a snort, steps up to the counter, and flips open his wallet. Everything inside me goes numb and haywire at the same damn time. My jaw drops open, and their shit falls to the counter with a loud thud.

“The fuck are you doing here? Listen, the shit I said about Dad, I…” I ramble through terror until Seger holds up a hand, stopping my words.

“Dad was the biggest fucking cock on the planet when he was alive…” he says with a cringe, running a hand across his neck.

“We're not here to discuss a dead man's shortcomings. We're here to discuss your inheritance,” Zepp says, gaining my complete and utter attention.

I swallow the hard lump forming in my overly sensitive throat and shake my head. Rage once again boils in the pit of mystomach. How could a man who gave me life walk away without contributing anything and have his two favorite sons show up and tell me there's money? Nope. Even if I need it more than anything right now, I still have my morals.

“I don't want his fucking money. I don't want anything from the piece of shit. He kicked Ma and me out without anything but the clothes on our backs. Ma dragged us back here, and we've lived on food stamps and the medical card for fucking years. I don't need a damn dime from Corbin West,” I hiss, jumping to my feet, which is a damn miracle these days. “I've done fucking fine without him.”

My teeth grit when pity takes over Seger's eyes as they fall on my giant stomach protruding from my long band shirt. I frown when he doesn't take his eyes off it, staring like he's never seen something like it before

“What? You’ve never seen a pregnant woman before?” I chide, narrowing my eyes at him.

He snorts playfully, running a hand down his face. “Sure, I have. It’s just fucking uncanny. You’re as far along as our wife. Twenty-eight weeks, right?” He looks at me as my hand flies to my stomach and my nose scrunches.

“Um, yeah,” I say quieter before nibbling on my lip when he nods.

“Do you have time for lunch?” Zepp asks, gesturing toward a diner across the street.

I lick my lips, envisioning a delicious burger and strawberry milkshake, as a loud rumble erupts from my stomach. I could have denied lunch because of a lack of funds. My stomach, on the other hand, had other plans and outed me for the starving woman I am.

“Now that you know we're your brothers, we have some shit we'd like to discuss with you. And I think you may want to hear it,” Seger says with a little too much enthusiasm, licking his lips.

When I finally meet his eyes, indecision weighs heavily on my mind. They showed me their licenses with their names on them. So, I shouldn't be afraid. But something holds me rooted to the spot. Every person I've ever trusted has left me dangling over the cliff with no way back up. Who is to say they're different? Are they lying to gain something from me? Is there an inheritance to receive? I blow out a breath, weighing my damn options. It isn't until Zeppelin speaks that I finally decide to say fuck it.

“Let's get some burgers, fries, and hell—a milkshake. We do have things to discuss with you—important things,” Zepp tacks on with a convincing voice.

I lick my lips again and finally sigh. “Fine. Class was fucking boring today, anyway. Who cares about the history of business bullshit? Take me to lunch, but don't expect me to take a damn handout,” I gripe, shutting my computer down and closing it. Quickly, I pick up a small backpack-style purse and fling it over my shoulder before grabbing a set of keys off the counter.

Whatever this lunch leads to, I'll listen. But I won't make any promises, especially regarding the people in my family.

“Hold the Weiner,” I say, putting a finger in the air. My entire body trembles with my mouth hanging open. Did they say what I think they said? There's no way in hell. This can't be right. “Twenty million dollars? Shut the front door,” I gasp, slumping on the bench as the waitress drops off my delicious strawberry milkshake and mounds of food. I've been starving all day, holding out for the food I got from the store. But when we came in, they said to order whatever I wanted. And who am I to deny that? “I just… I can't… he just…” I stutter, shoving ahandful of fries into my mouth, and moan at the greasy, salty taste slithering across my desperate taste buds. God, this is even better than sex.

“Twenty million is just the tip of the iceberg, River. More will be deposited, according to our father's lawyer. He left money for each of you…”

“Each of us?” I ask, taking a swig of my milkshake. “You've met…”

“All fucking fourteen of the West children, yeah. We've been down that road, and you, dear sister, are the last damn one,” Seger mumbles, shoving his cheeseburger into his mouth with the same zest as me. Maybe we're more alike than I thought. “Fuck. Nothing beats a quaint little diner’s burger,” he moans around his food, taking another bite.

“Animal,” Zepp grumbles, taking a small bite of his burger.

Every muscle in my body locks up at the sultry sound blasting through the speakers. Looking around, every patron stops what they're doing to marvel at the song playing overhead with smiles. Seger bobs his head with a grin, closing his eyes and taking the tune in, seeming pleased with himself.

My milkshake turns to ash on my tongue, and heavy lead is in my twisting stomach. I've avoided everything Whispered Words from the moment they walked away without another word. I've avoided anything online mentioning their newly found success and articles interviewing them for various reasons. If I hazard a guess, I'd say they're taking over the world one song at a time.

“Is this?” Zepp asks, tilting his head.

“Fucking right it is. They're hella fucking talented, and I can't believe they came out of nowhere,” Seger says with a grin, turning to look at me.

His face falls at the sight of what I'm sure is my pale face. Moisture beads above my lip as a heat of rage boils my blood, and my fists clench under the table.

Angry tears pool in my eyes, and my breath shudders in my chest. Of all the songs I could have heard today, why did it have to be theirs? And why did it have to be Roaring River? Like, do they seriously sing that still? Why couldn't they have lost and gotten what they deserved? To rot in the depths of hell. I swear to God, one day, I will enact my revenge on the boys who stole my heart, crushed it, and then abandoned me when I needed them most.

“Whispered Words,” I mutter with my lips twisting into an angry scowl.