I knew my name.
I’d worn it like royalty, when really, it’d been nothing less than a cattle brand. Burned into my flesh. Nowhere to go, nowhere to run, not until the day I was slaughtered.
“What’s up, man? You look happy to see me,” Logan whispered back like a razzing to his brother. “Do you remember Aster Costa?”
He hugged me to the side of his chest like we’d remained the best of friends. “A real long time, right?”
“Not long enough.” The grunted words left Trent on a growl.
Nervousness chattered my teeth, the freezing cold from outside dropping by thirty degrees.
This was bad.
Still, Logan just smirked the biggest smirk I’d ever seen and sat back in the chair, looping his arm farther around my shoulders and kicking an ankle onto the opposite knee like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Arrogance rolled from him in waves.
Crashed into me as heat.
I itched, shifted on the hard metal chair.
He pressed his nose into my hair and breathed out, “Relax. I’ve got you.”
“This is a bad idea,” I mumbled back.
He laughed a cocky sound. “All of mine are, Aster.”
He pointed at the older man who was still giving his welcome, Logan’s voice held just for me. “That’s Gary, Eden’s father.”
A question furled my brow.
Logan almost laughed like he was just catching up on the fact I knew nothing about anyone he was talking about.
“Eden is Trent’s wife.”
“Oh.” My lips formed it almost silently. There I sat, taking in the details as if I were the unwelcomed, second wife at her first family dinner.
Gary continued his introductions. “I just want to say how much we appreciate everything you do for this school and this community. We couldn’t do what we do without you. Most of all, we couldn’t do it without my daughter, Eden, our show director and producer.”
An affectionate chuckle left him as a blonde head peeked out from between the part in the curtains and waved.
The crowd cheered and she ducked back in.
I peeked back Trent Lawson’s way. My pulse thugged when I saw who sat on the other side of him.
Jud Lawson.
Logan’s other brother. He had always been a beast of a man, but different than Trent. Softer, maybe, easier to laugh, though it would be a mistake to believe he wasn’t every bit as savage.
It took me a second to notice he had his hand twined with another on his lap. A woman sat beside him, her attention rapt on the stage.
“Now, without further delay, enjoy the show…” Gary waved toward the curtains and the spotlight blinked out.
A second later, it flashed back on to the curtains sweeping open. It revealed a set made of painted cardboard, a winter wonderland of white paper confetti and silver stars that were strung from the rafters.
“Here we go.” Logan murmured it at my ear as if I were in this with him. As excited as he.
I shouldn’t be.