Page 11 of Traitor
Chapter Four
Ford
The next day,I open the employee-only door to find something worse than a spoiled princess waiting for me on the other side. I’d rather face a porch full of socialites armed to the teeth than my baby sister, Mercedes.
As if things couldn’t get any worse.
“Now’s not a good time, Mercedes.” My parents thought they were clever naming their kids after vehicles. According to them, we were lacking in a sense of humor when we didn’t find it as funny. I thank God they didn’t name me Volkswagen instead of Ford.
“It’s never a good time with you,” she says, then adds, “Don’t call me Mercedes.” But I can’t help it. I’ve bugged her about her name since we were kids, and I don’t expect that’ll change anytime soon.
“Hi, Lexie,” I say to my niece, who's standing behind her mother working on a champion sulk.
Thankfully, my sister curbed her desire to continue the Collier christening tradition enough to name her Alexus instead of Lexus. She nods to me then goes back to texting or chatting or whatever the thirteen-year-old girls are doing these days.
Mercy shifts, and I notice the large duffle bag she has slung over one shoulder. “It won’t be for long.”
I scrub a hand absently over my hair and roll my shoulders. “I wasn’t kidding when I said this isn’t a good time. We’re fully booked. Can’t you stay at Mom and Dad’s?”
Mercy purses her lips, and then Lexie adds, “We already asked them,” causing Mercy to glare.
At my look, Mercy explains, “They’re going on a trip to see some lighthouses up north or whatever and having the floors in the house ripped up and replaced while they’re gone. Please, Ford. Don’t make me beg.”
Lexie can’t look me in the face at the pleading tone in her mother’s voice and it causes me to relent. “Of course you can stay, if you don’t mind sharing the spare room in my apartment. It’s not fancy,” I warn. “I’m still fixing up the top floor and it’s cramped.”
Mercy perks up. “No, that’s fine. I promise, you’ll hardly even know I’m here. We promise.”
I snort as I hold the door open for them to come in. “That’s what you said last time.”
“The waterbed wasn’t my fault,” Mercy says. “How was I supposed to know it would rip?”
“I lost my deposit over the mess you made, I hope you know.”
They throw their bags in the last room down the hall and we all take a seat on the couches in front of the TV. I have to admit, I hadn’t realized how lonely my part of the lodge had been until their senseless chatter fills the silence.
“Ugh, Mom,” Lexie rolls her eyes and takes the controller to change the movie I had on. “I really don’t want to hear about your sex life.”
“Me either,” I say.
“The both of you can shut your cakeholes. It was an accident. And Lexie, I don’t ever want to hear you say the word sex again.”
“Sex, sex, sex,” Lexie retorts and sticks out her tongue.
Lexie’s foot is within reach, so I grab hold of her ankle and yank her across the length of the leather couch and dig my fingers into her ribs. She shrieks and bats her hands at me, but I subdue them with my free arm.
“Who’s your favorite uncle?” I ask her.
Her face turns red with the force of her laughter. “Stop, omigod. You s-suck.”
Her screams make my ears ring, but they also pull me out of the funk I’ve been in ever since I woke up, after a nightmare with Peyton’s terrified face lodged firmly in my memories. I don’t know what trouble my sister’s found herself in, but I’ll take it in exchange for this.
“I give,” she says after a few more minutes. “Fine, I won’t say it again.”
“Promise?” I ask.
She draws in deep gulps of air, her long, dark hair askew. “I promise.”
Mercy jumps to her feet and rushes to the door the moment a knock sounds. “I’ll get it,” she says. I don’t miss the telltale way she fluffs her hair or the slight tremor of excitement in her voice.