Home for Christmas: New Adult Holiday Dark Suspense Romance Read Online Free PDF Page B

forehead, as if she was checking for a fever. “Are you okay?”
    “I’m fine, Mags.” Ginny unslung her backpack and dropped it onto an ice patch. Her shoulders ached from carrying it everywhere, although she was starting to finally get used to it.
    “Did you get a chance to go to the bank?” Maggie asked, shading her eyes against the sun—it was bright, but the day was too cold to allow for much melt—to see what the boys were up to when Michael let out a war whoop and took off after his brother.
    “I...” Ginny swallowed, the memory of the bank visit and her near-miss with Brody still fresh in her mind. Thank God for Mr. Spencer and his lonely longing for someone to talk to for a while, or she would likely be in Brody’s dangerous and unpredictable company as they spoke.
    “Damnit, Ginny!” Maggie sighed and shook her head. “I need that money! I’ve got to get a place for the boys before Christmas. Will you please try to be a grown-up for five minutes and take some responsibility for once? You’re not always going to be able to draw pretty rainbow ponies and pretend the real world doesn’t exist!”
    Ginny didn’t say anything as she watched the boys tumble into a snowbank, laughing and tussling, shrieking in that high-pitched tone only kids seemed to be able to hit when they were young. She remembered doing that with Maggie, when they were little kids. Her older sister liked to grab the back of Ginny’s head and rub her face in it. They called it a “face-wash.” They weren’t mean to each other, but they were siblings, after all.
    Once Brody came along, though, they found themselves banding together in ways they never had before. And after their mom was gone, Maggie became the little mother out of necessity. She was always telling Ginny to grow up, be responsible, practical. Art school wasn’t practical, of course. Art school was a pipe dream that was never going to get her out from under Brody’s thumb.
    “I’m sorry, Mags.” Ginny swallowed again, the words coming out slowly. She didn’t want to have to tell her sister that her addict husband had emptied not only their bank account, but their safe deposit box too. She didn’t want to tell her a lot of things. It was better that Maggie kept thinking she was living at home, untouched by Brody, untouched by the rest of the world and its very cold shoulder.
    “You always say you’re sorry.” Maggie scowled, crossing her arms over her chest. It reminded Ginny of the lectures she used to get in high school for her grades. Brody didn’t seem to care about school, as long as they weren’t truant or in trouble. C’s were find for Brody. But not for Maggie. She constantly pushed Ginny to get A’s. Even a B+ was cause for alarm.
    Of course, Ginny was glad now. She’d made it through high school with a 3.8 average. Geometry had been her nemesis. Algebra she understood. Trig was easy. But geometry? Nope. The good news was that her transcripts were amazing. She could apply at any college in the country and have a good shot at getting in. That just created another point of contention between the sisters—Maggie wanted Ginny to go to a good school and choose a smart, profitable profession.
    You could be a lawyer, a doctor, anything, Ginny! Just don’t be a goddamned artist.
    But Ginny knew her sister was speaking from the land of lost opportunities. Maggie was looking back at her own high school career of skipping classes and going out with boys and generally goofing off until she found herself just a little bit pregnant. Not that Ginny could blame her. Maggie had kept her secret from her younger sister as long as she could. She probably never would have confessed it, if Ginny hadn’t actually seen it for herself one afternoon when she’d come home from school sick with the flu and found her sister bent over the kitchen table, Brody rutting behind her like an animal.
    “Boys!” Maggie called, giving that helpless cross-armed wave Ginny always