Lysander: In the parking lot.
Nothing good could come from my ex-con brother loitering at my place of employment, especially at a prep school like EBA where everyone was judged on their wealth and propriety.
“Excuse me, Warren,” I muttered without looking up as I slipped my phone in my pocket and sped-walked around the corner to the parking lot.
The U-shaped lot was mostly empty, students and faculty off-grounds for lunchtime, and I didn’t know if Sander had a car or not. I stood near the Science building, squinting into the sun trying to find him when a large hand clamped down on my shoulder and dragged me behind the bushes.
I let out a loud squeak before I could control the reaction and then glared up at Sander once he had me settled between himself and the wall.
“What in the world are you doing here?” I hissed.
My big brother crossed his arms across his barrel chest and glowered down at me. I hadn’t seen him in three months but he wasn’t much changed. Prison had done that to him two years ago. He’d never been an upstanding citizen but after six years behind bars, he’d emerged tatted and roughed up in a way he’d never been before. There were scars on his hands, hands that I knew could make beautiful music, and harsh lines between his brows from a now permanent scowl. He was still beautiful to me and until I’d met King, I’d believed him to be the most handsome man in the world. What little girl doesn’t think her older brother is hero worthy? Especially when they very literally save your life?
His stern face broke into a small smile. “Good to see you too, princess.”
My heart broke open, crashing through my stupid anxiety at anyone seeing me with my thuggish looking brother. I threw my arms around his thick neck and peppered his face in kisses. His rumbling laugh worked through me as he wrapped me up in his bear hug.
“Missed you,” I whispered brokenly.
“Missed you too.”
We held each other for a long minute before he carefully placed me on the ground. I kept his hand in mine, rubbing the ridged calluses with my thumb.
“You look good,” he said. “Divorce never looked so good.”
“Thanks,” I beamed. “But not divorced yet. William still won’t sign the papers.”
Immediately Lysander’s face turned stony. “No fuckin’ way.”
“Sander, please,” I put my hand on his arm to calm him because there was no one more volatile than my brother. “Don’t worry about it. I’m doing really well.”
He stared hard at me for a second before nodding curtly. “Seems so. Got yourself a fancy teaching job at a fancy school. Thought you wanted to go back to school?”
“I need money for that. But I’m happy here for now, really. The other teachers have been really welcoming and the kids are good, really bright.”
“How you doin’ for money?” he asked, cutting right to the point of his visit.
I bit my lip. It was never easy to say, when Lysander brought up money, if he was going to ask for or offer it.
“Tell me,” he ordered.
“I’m fine, honey. I bought a tiny house by the water. It needs some fixing but it’s alright.”
“Got furniture?”
“A bit,” I assured him with a little shrug and a smile. “I pilfered some stuff from our storage unit before I moved up here.”
“Your mum and dad help?” It was always ‘your’ parents with him even though they were his as much as mine by blood. He hadn’t talked to them in years. The last time they did was seared on my brain, my father’s face as he shouted at Lysander for leading me down the wrong path right along with him and my mother’s wailing sobs. Now, they didn’t even mentioned Sander. He was worse than dead to them. It was as if he had never existed.
So, I got why he called them mine and not his.
I shrugged carefully because I didn’t want him to fly into a rage as I knew he would if he felt someone had wronged me, even if it was my own parents. “They aren’t very pleased with me right now. You know how much they love William.”
They still spent every Sunday night having dinner with him. Dad went fishing with him the first Saturday of every month just as they had done since before I hit puberty, and mum made him casseroles to keep in the fridge now that his (and I’m quoting her on this) ‘wife had abandoned him.’
I only spoke to my mother, and even then, only when she called me in an attempt to guilt trip or shame me into going back to William.
I didn’t say any of that because Lysander was unpredictable, loyal beyond belief to those he loved (only me, that I was aware of), and a little bit crazy.