The Fable of Us

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Authors: Nicole Williams
shadows at the top of the stairs.
    It was a large, imposing figure, and one I didn’t need to look at full-on to know whose outline it was. I’d memorized all there was to know about him years ago. Those memories might have been shuffled to the back of my mind, but they’d always be there.
    “Unemployed,” the figure now coming down those stairs spoke up. “That’s my profession at this current time. Any other questions? I’d be happy to answer them now that I’ve gotten me and Clara settled in.”
    Three sets of eyes skipped to the stairway—Avalee’s widening the least, my mom’s widening to the point of being legendary—followed by three mouths falling open as they watched Boone make his way down the stairs. The fourth set of eyes, belonging to Ford, stayed focused on me, narrowing a bit more with every step Boone descended.
    Mine though? Mine narrowed into slivers aimed at Boone. What in the hell was he doing? He wasn’t incapable of following directions, and I knew he’d heard me ask him to stay upstairs. He was doing this intentionally. He was purposely trying to make this hard on me. I’d agreed to pay him ten grand to act as my plus one for the week, but I’d forgotten to lay down a set of much-needed ground rules. It was clear he was going to spend the next week paying me back for what he deemed I owed him from our past.
    I would have been better off showing up solo.
    “Get the hell out of this house, Cavanaugh. You practically destroyed this family and this girl.” Ford’s voice filled the foyer, his finger thrusting in my direction. “You have no right to be here. Leave.”
    Boone paused long enough in the middle of the stairs to look at Ford. To the others in the room, I knew Boone appeared as cool and in control of himself as he ever was, but I read the finer print they had yet to learn. The way the corners of his eyes creased when he was fired up. The way his knuckles pulled through his skin like they were readying themselves for a brawl. The way the muscles in his neck stiffened just enough to be visible. Boone had never liked Ford. Ford had never liked Boone. It wasn’t just teenage boy rivalry; it had gone much deeper than that.
    “If messing up this family and that woman is your qualification for who does and doesn’t deserve to be in this house, then you better be the first to walk out those doors.” Boone’s hand tightened around the bannister, looking capable of turning the redwood into sawdust.
    Ford shook his head, trying to look away from Boone, but he couldn’t. “I’m done talking with you. I learned years ago that trying to rationalize with a wild, savage animal is like expecting them to have a conscience. Neither is possible. It’s just in the animal’s nature to be wild. And savage.”
    “Is that a promise I can get your signature on?” Boone continued down the stairs. “Because I really think I’d like that in writing.”
    My poor mother was looking between Boone and me like she couldn’t figure out what was happening. She backed away when Boone tromped down the last few stairs. Avalee stayed where she was, giving me a curious look, while Charlotte’s head looked ready to spin.
    Ford’s gaze sliced in my direction. “I thought you were smart, Clara Belle. The kind of girl who learns from her mistakes and doesn’t make the same one twice.”
    Talking to me like I was a child. Patronizing me like I wasn’t in possession of a scrap of intelligence. If he wasn’t so far away, I might have slapped Ford McBride right then.
    “It’s you who’s implying I made a mistake in the first place—no one else.” My voice came out two keys lower.
    “I wasn’t exactly implying anything,” Ford replied, his gaze shifting between Boone and me like he’d just witnessed a train wreck and was trying to figure out what to do next.
    “And he’s not exactly alone in his not implying that either,” Charlotte added, coming up beside Ford and winding her arm through

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