Having Em home has been awesome, yet I still can’t help but wonder why she came back. I have made subtle attempts over the past few days to pry it out of her, but anytime I mention anything that could lead to a conversation about her being here, she avoids the topic and brushes me off; I’ll find out sooner or later, I always do. I can’t blame her for not wanting Mum and Dad to know the ins and outs of her life; having them sailing around the world on their private yacht has been pure bliss for me. I can’t say Kinsley and I would be where we are today if they were here hovering; trying to control me , and dictating what I do with my life …

Her voice pulls me from my thoughts. “How are Harley and the boys?” We are on the way to have a few drinks at the bar with Kins. Her shift finishes at 9pm tonight and the girls wanted to do something fun before Emma leaves tomorrow.

“I haven’t really seen them. I’ve been busy with the business.” My response comes out a little short and I see her straighten in her seat.

“You’re twenty-seven years old, Tanner. When are you going to stop letting Mum and Dad walk all over you?” Emma shakes her head and her loose curls fall into her face. She tucks them behind her ear and continues to speak, “Those boys are your family, don’t push them away.”

“Enough, Em. Just drop it.”

I glance sideways at her and see she has her arms crossed over her chest. “Finish the tantrum before we arrive, Princess, or you can wait in the car.”

‘We’ll always be here for you, Chonk. Do what you need to do.’ Harley’s words the last time we spoke whisper in my mind as I indicate and turn into the car park of Twisted Sister. He understands; one day it won’t need to be this way. A sting of guilt hits me and I rub my chest, feeling the physical pain of juggling two worlds; the one I was born into and the one I should be grateful for.

I scan the inside of Twisted Sister as we enter. There are a couple of girls sipping cocktails on couches over in the far corner, as well as a few others standing, scattered along the length of the bar. Making our way through the small crowd, people part as I direct Emma to a tall table with three stools and wave Becky over when she looks our way.

“Could you watch this one for a second? Grab us some menus and a round of drinks for the three of us? I’m just going to grab Kinsley from out the back.”

“Sure thing, I’ll only be one second,” she says, whisking away to get the menus.