The Revenge by Tijan

Payton was not Quinn.

Matt showed up at the end, sneaking into a chair on the other side of me. Kash was on my right, and Matt made sure to pat him on the arm. We’d had breakfast together and Kash had given my brother a full lecture on being smart with whatever he and I were about to do.

Matt listened through it all, then leaned forward, plopped his elbows on the table. “Now, let’s talk about how I’m not going to be replaced by your new brother.”

He kept his voice low so no one else could hear, but the rest of the meal was full of Matt peppering Kash with questions, Kash not answering them, and Matt then asking even more questions. By the end, Matt seemed reassured he wasn’t going to be replaced.

Matt slumped down now, grabbing the drink Theresa just sat in front of me, and stabbed his fork into my chicken. He sipped and chewed at the same time while Peter looked up, his nose pressing in. His eyes narrowed, lingering on his oldest before he shook his head from side to side, slowly, and reached for his own wine.

Matt watched the entire perusal and then smirked. “What’s up, Pops?” He didn’t wait a beat, his eyes sliding across the table to where Payton had stilled, half bent toward Cyclone, but biting down on her lip. Matt’s smirk widened. “Look what prodigal reject swept in with the wind.”

Payton sucked in her breath, her eyes blinking rapidly.

Peter instantly scowled.

Kash glanced at me, a small frown.

Marie was sitting with us, next to Peter, and her eyes widened. “Aye aye aye,” she muttered under her breath, making a point of looking down at her lap.

Theresa had been returning to the kitchen, but now she paused and swung back to glare at Matt. One hand on her hip.

Seraphina frowned, a tiny wrinkle in her forehead.

Cyclone burst out. “You shut up, Matt!”

Matt jerked back.

Payton’s eyes rounded. I had a feeling that if she could’ve poofed in the air and disappeared, she would’ve.

Everyone else was as surprised as me.

And Cyclone was not done!

He pounded his fist on the table, sitting up on his knees. He lifted that fist and pointed at his brother with a finger jabbing in the air. “You’re always so mean to Aunt Payton. Stop it!”

Out of the mouths of babes …

I swiveled my head until I was only watching Matt, the back of my head to everyone else. He seemed frozen in place until his eyes jumped and met mine. Guilt flared before he blinked, and then it was gone. His smirk remained, but it was much less, and he leaned forward. His fork was poised over his plate, just hanging from his hand. “I’m being mean, Cy?”

Cyclone’s face got beet red and he sat back down. But his mouth was still tight and his chin jutted out. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Not always, but a lot of the times to Aunt Payton and Dad.”

Matt’s eyes started dancing. His smirk was more a flat line, but I had the impression he was holding laughter in. “Really?” He leaned forward, placing his fork down in an exaggerated move and smiled politely. “Well, Dad. I am sorry for being mean so much of the time.” He sat back, nodding to Payton. His tone was more genuine and softer. “Payton.”

Her mouth turned down at the corners, but she nodded back. “Matthew.”

“I didn’t mean that in a mean way…” He winked at Cyclone. “But in a way where I was making fun of Peter Dearest, since, you know, he sent you away when the big guns came home.” His eyes darted to Marie, holding, before he leaned back in his chair. His arm came up, resting on the back of my chair, and he turned to me, his look holding on me, too.

The back of my neck got hot. “You’re being mean to me now?”

The smirk was back, and it was wicked. “I called you a ‘big gun.’ How is that not a compliment?”

I opened my mouth, but Payton beat me to it, and her comment came out way softer than mine would’ve. “Because it’s not, but thank you in a backward way.” She turned to me, then Marie. “When Peter asked if I’d come back, he explained both of your concerns.” She looked from Marie to me and back. “I’m not here to disrupt anyone. I’m only here for Cyclone and Seraphina. I love both of them so much, and Peter said it’d be good if I came back. I do not condone what my sister did. If I did, I wouldn’t be able to sit here. I condemn what she did. I no longer consider her my sister.”

Cyclone stiffened, and it was noticeable enough for everyone to look his way.

Payton, too. “Oh, honey. You have to know that what your mother did was wrong. I can’t love her back, not until she apologizes to everyone she’s hurt because of her actions. To Bailey. Kash. Everyone she hurt. Right now”—she put her arm around Cyclone, drawing him to her side—“she doesn’t think it was wrong, what she did. That’s why you can’t see her right now, not until she gets better.”

Seraphina frowned, but she didn’t say anything.

Cyclone’s eyes were so big and wide, and heartbroken. My throat swelled up, seeing that last emotion, and then I heard him whisper, “Does that mean we’ll never get to see her again?”

“Oh!” Marie’s gasp was hushed.

I looked over. Peter seemed to be struggling himself, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down repeatedly.

A tiny tear slipped from Seraphina, sliding down her cheek.