Lost : The Little Sisters Book One Page 2

  But Blaze remained missing still. And yet, his father had sung.

  That had angered Lucy, enough to break into a fight with her mum and then to come storming over here to relay it all to Jace. But it was what Jace had done that sent the tears rolling down her cheeks, unchecked. How could he have said all that to her? Sure, they’d had their spats in the past. Each one violent in the verbal assault they unleashed at each other but this… this had been over the top. And all for some floozy she’d caught him in bed with.

  Lucy’s cheeks flushed red in anger. Anger and tears were a horrible mix. It made one do horrible things. And with Lucy, it made her want to break that vow of never singing for anyone other than Jace again. To more like never singing for Jace again. Perhaps she should take a leaf out of her father’s book and keep her voice for only those who meant nothing to her at all.

  Her feet picked up speed. It was a long way back home. A long run on foot. But she should be back by nightfall, and she would have her song to guide her. Her melody to soothe her. Her words to rip into the hurt and anger that dodged her every step of the way.

  Four years on, and seventeen-year-old Lucy eyed her best friend with interest. Lucy found there was not much to dislike about her best bud. Not his careless, longish locks of blond hair, nor his flashing baby blue eyes, and it was certainly not his tall frame, complete with his six-pack abs. But it was really his flashing white grin that she found irresistibly charming.

  Even so, she was not giving in her win. Aerial ping-pong might not be her forte but she sure as hell was going to give it all she had. Lucy was not feebly built, despite her relatively dainty frame, but that was like comparing a lamb to a charging bull. There was no defeating Jace when it came to a match of the bulk.

  He outweighed her, outmuscled her and, sad to say, yes, outgunned her, but that did not mean she was going to simply roll over and give it up to him. If he wanted it, he was going to have to come get it. Sadly, the wicked grin he was wearing said he was going to relish every moment of the attempt.

  Lucy firmed her chin and gritted her teeth, panting hard. Sweat dripped down her brow from the unexpected heat. But not all that heat had been due to the exertion of the game. Rugby was no gentle sports by anyone’s account, but with Jace, Lucy tended to take a beating to the senses more than anything else. She was already being bombarded with sensations, and all of them overly pleasant. When was she going to get over this ridiculous attraction to her best friend?

  “Ready?” He called out, slipping easily into position.

  “Huh?” Lucy gaped, momentarily spellbound by his supple grace.

  Jace chuckled, cocking his head to the side as he flicked the ball between his hands tauntingly; he tried again, this time more slowly, in a sing-song tone, as if talking to an infant. “Are-you-ready, Lucy?”

  “Ready,” she hollered out, spreading her legs and crouching into position, her eyes fixed on the ball. Jace was going down.

  Jace grinned then drop-kicked the ball into a high arch. They both took a moment to stare at each other before they took off laughingly after the ball. Of all their games together, rugby was never serious. It couldn’t be when it was just two mismatched players trying to cover every angle of the game. Jace with his longer strides easily took over and was swiftly closing in. He would have caught the ball in a second had Lucy not jump-tackled him.

  They both went down in a thud, luckily for Lucy with him landing beneath her and cushioning her fall. But he was swift to break free, crawling forward to make a mad dash for the fallen ball. Lucy was not having it; she elbowed him and, ignoring his exaggerated howl of pain, lunged for the ball, only to find herself tackled onto her back for her efforts. Lucy’s peal of laughter rang over the oval as Jace’s nimble fingers were swift to seek retribution. He knew she had ticklish sides and was not afraid to exploit that fact.

  “If you guys are finished…,” interrupted the sugar-coated voice of Jace’s latest squeeze. “I’d like my boyfriend back, Lucy.” The buxom bottled-blond shot her brows up at Lucy. “If you really want to grapple with a man, Lucy, why don’t you find your own boyfriend?” She suggested sweetly, accurately hitting the nail on the head.

  Lucy desperately wanted to grapple with a man, but no other than Jace would do.

  Chapter 1

  Melbourne, Australia - Present Day

  “He is the love of my life!”

  The dramatic outcry shattered the peace of No. 11. Perched precariously at the top of one of the few inhabited hill slopes in the otherwise flat Melbourne, the Little residence looked about to topple over from the sheer angst pounding against its four walls. But the storm brewing within was nothing unusual for the residents of Merryville Drive. Frantic footsteps could be heard pounding all over the wooden floorboards of the double-story brick-veneer house. The Little’s residence was not large, nor was it small either. It was certainly adequate for the three teenaged girls and their harassed parents who lived within.

  Lucy Little stirred in her sleep. The sounds of the commotion below reaching up to her, chasing away the last vestiges of sleep. The door to her room flew open. But then a frantic exhalation of hot air fanned hotly across her face. Lucy smelt jam. Strawberries to be sure.

  “I love him! I love Jace!”

  It took Lucy a moment for the words to sink in. But then they did. The pang she initially felt, but refused to acknowledge, was swiftly hidden with the sardonic upward twitch to the corner of her lips. Her usual front for all things related to her best friend Jace Neil.

  “In love again, are you?” The sardonic words that left her lips belied the panicked urgency she felt, and her next words were uttered with forced amusement, “And with poor Jace, too.” Lucy clucked her tongue in mock sympathy for the poor unsuspecting Jace, but she knew in her heart that Emily Little was a catch for any man.

  “Lucy!”

  Lucy Little stared up with false amusement into the earnest blue eyes peering down at her. Long, darkened lashes blinked pitifully at her, eliciting an unbidden desire to laugh, and her answering pout of mock sympathy wavered. But it was too early yet for outright laughter. Lucy Little was not a morning person by nature.

  A puff of blond hair fell across her face, teasing a sneeze out of her. “Achoo!”

  Lucy waved Emily’s hair off her face, irritably. “Get lost, Emily.” Then she added with a heartfelt groan. “Go bug Cat.”

  “She already has,” came the calm retort from the Cat in question. Lucy turned her head to clear her vision from Emily’s blond tumble and stare at Emily’s identical twin lounging nonchalantly against the door, book in hand.

  Catherine Little was no novice when it came to bearing Emily’s passionate little outbursts. Exposed as she had been to her sister’s needy nature for constant attention since birth, she took in this newest outburst with an outward calm that was almost eerie. But then, nothing ever phased Cat. Nothing could. Cat, being the brains, graduated ahead of her age group by two years and was unnaturally unshakeable in all things Emily. Despite being only sixteen to all of Lucy’s nineteen years of age, Cat still knew more about everything than Lucy did.

  But it was not Cat who held her attention now; it was her twin, Emily. Daylight gleamed through gossamer curtains to shine down on them, lending a dangerous sparkle to those blue orbs. It was a sparkle she was more than familiar with. Tears. The start of laughter faded just quickly as it begun. Lucy’s over-protective nature rose to answer.

  “You deserve better than a player, Em. You do know Jace is a player, right? He has a long line of broken hearts behind him. There isn’t a skirt he wouldn’t chase, and his sweet words and sweeter smiles only last so long.” Jace was her best friend but there was no denying that truth.

  “Of course, I know. I know him as well as you, Lucy, and I have heard things being said. I am not as dumb as I look.” Emily stated stubbornly.

  At that, Cat looked up, protesting. “Of course not! You don’t look dumb at all,” she exclaimed, affronted. It took
both Emily and Lucy a moment, but they caught on to her meaning and laughed. With twins, the insult of one’s looks affronted just as easily the other.

  Lucy sobered up after a bit, and stated with some finality. “Jace is a player, Emily, and that’s that.”

  But her sisterly concern was overridden with a cry of protest. “Oh no, Lucy. How can you say that? I thought Jace was your best friend. You, more than anyone, should support me on this.”

  Lucy thought back to her friend and his impressive good looks and couldn’t help muttering, “Fuck, Jace!”

  “Lucy!”

  Emily’s cry drew her attention reluctantly back to her.

  “Yes?” Lucy’s resigned sigh was clearly involuntary, but it still served to set off another round of unwanted declaration.

  “Jace Neil is a dream. I can’t imagine my life without him.” There was just the right touch of drama to her voice to ignite a flare of gold to Lucy’s own tawny gaze. The possessive streak she had trouble hiding when it came to her best friend Jace, now rose its ugly head.

  This was an odd pickle she often found herself in. Her possessive nature for her sister warring against that for her best friend. In the past, she had always unfailingly sided with her sisters against her friend. She had never liked it, picking her sisters over her best friend, when they both meant so much to her. Not because blood was thicker than water. But because she’d lost a blood relative before and was doubly protective of those she still had.

  A pang for her own missing twin rose up in answer. But Emily’s want was not so simple. Not when her own heart was secretly mingled in the mix. They couldn’t both love Jace Neil. Even if that would make his every dream come true.

  “A dream? Really?” Lucy could not help the sarcastic edge to her dry tone. She could not relate with that sentiment. Having known Jace every bit as much as Emily did, Lucy could safely say there was nothing at all dreamlike about her best friend Jace… if one ignored his inherently gorgeous face and frame.

  “How could he not be? I mean, have you seen his face, Lucy? Have you really seen him? His bluer-than-blue eyes, the sun-kissed streaks through his hair. That jawline. Oh God! I can’t believe I haven’t fallen in love with him sooner!”

  He’s a player, Emily,” Lucy muttered again, exasperatedly. “You could do better than falling for a player,” Lucy added, this time more vehemently, almost as though she were reiterating that fact to herself instead of Emily. Lucy shook her head. She could just imagine the self-satisfied smirk Jace would be wearing when he found out about this recent development. Not that Lucy would tell him. But there was every chance that Emily would. Unless she could knock some sense into her first.

  The pounce was unexpected, and the resulting tussle went a long way to soothing her ruffled feathers. Her little sister singing out her love for her player best friend was the last thing she’d expected to wake up to this morning, and this tussle was exactly what she needed to legitimately vent a little. The resulting shrieks were not from her own lips.

  “Get off me!”

  “You get off my bed, first!” Illogical as that request may be, and pinned down as Emily was by Lucy’s skilled efforts, it did not stop Lucy from demanding it. With her famous temper already spiked to unreasonableness, it would take time before sanity returned. And still more time yet, before it actually prevailed.

  “Cat! Save me!”

  As always, Emily retreated to call on her fail-safe-back-up for help. With a resigned sigh, Cat tore her bespectacled gaze away from the thick tome she had her nose buried in to peer pointedly above the rim at Lucy. It was the sheer nonchalance of her gaze that snuffed the fire out of her. Only Cat had mastered that dead-bored look to such a finely honed weapon that it could cut through the most passionate of situations to ignite lucidity.

  Lucy responded, blinking away her irrational temper to release her hold of Emily. With a well-placed shove, Emily Little was successfully dislodged from Lucy’s bed. The barrage of insults that escaped her lips was nothing unusual. Lucy turned to her side and deliberately tugged a pillow over her head, pretending to go back to sleep. It did nothing to block out the sound, but the light was adequately snuffed out for her purposes.

  Immediately, images of Jace Neil flooded her mind. Tall; rugged. His six-pack abs glistening in the sun, slicked, wet, and fresh from the surf with the damp strands of his sun-kissed blond hair ruffled by the wind. It was a scene from a memory. One of many to haunt her doggedly. With a muffled groan, Lucy buried her face further into her pillow, trying uselessly to snuff out all thoughts of the irresistible Jace.

  It’s not as if Lucy wanted to think of him. To all intents and purposes Lucy was a forward-thinking kinda girl. She didn’t do pondering over her past. But Jace had a way of persistently haunting her past, present, and future. Seeping into her thoughts, at the most unexpected of moments. Lucy had long conceded she had no control of her thoughts when it came to Jace.

  A commotion of footsteps running out her door was the signal she needed to draw her head back up for some much-needed air. Emily had left. Ran out for reinforcements undoubtedly. But who? Woof, the dog? It was unlikely she would be back with mum in tow. Lucy drew in a ragged sigh. Emily and Jace? She couldn’t help but shudder at the thought. That and a twinge of something else she didn’t want to investigate too closely. But Jace as Emily’s latest infatuation was not unexpected. She’d seen the signs coming.

  Emily’s none-too-subtle sighs whenever Jace was about were not the least of them, but Lucy had thought she still had some time before she would have to deal with it. Then again, she was surprised that Emily’s infatuation hadn’t dawned on her earlier. Lucy, herself, had been all of sixteen when she first fell head over heels in…

  The patter of approaching feet told her solitude was once again about to be compromised. Invaded by her exuberant family. Emily was on her way back. With a muffled groan, Lucy turned to stare out the window.

  Melbourne insistently beckoned from her window. The light from the morning sun lit the room, demanding she partake in the beautiful day by doing more than slumbering indoors. Outside, a cockatoo pecked away insistently on her window. The regular alarm nature had sent over, and which she had been diligently ignoring. Like clockwork, the cockatoo appeared in a barrage every morning, to knock on her window and demand scraps of bread. The white feathered birds were plump off her leavings. But they could wait. Or better yet, fly away. She was not up to it this morning. It was the day after Christmas with a long weekend ahead, and the sleepy Melbourne suburb—along with Lucy—would be slow in waking.

  With the rush for Christmas thankfully over, and the requisite presents exchanged, it was time to enjoy the lazy week ahead before Melbourne got set to party hard into the New Year.

  Emily, the youngest of the Little sisters, was always more than a handful. Glamorous and full of fun, falling in and out of love was a common occurrence for Emily. With her good looks, Emily turned heads wherever she went. Infatuated with just about every boy who paid her the slightest attention, she gave them all a run for their money. High maintenance or not, Emily expected the very best, and had no qualms demanding it. But that was not the worst of it, Emily was convinced that every boy she met was similarly affected, even Jace Neil.

  “I love him! I really do!” Emily declared vehemently, marching back in. While not exactly back with reinforcements, she had certainly regrouped. Emily reached down to tug away Lucy’s blankets. The crisp morning chill was swift to send her curling up in affront.

  “Emily,” Lucy groaned, before reaching down to tug at her doona. The goose down feathered comforter was rudely tugged back. “Emily!”

  “Cat! Help me out here,” Emily called out. Cat, stubborn to a fault at any other time, was sadly a pushover to her twin. Of the two, when they were together Cat was the twin without a backbone, despite being the older of the two. Where Emily was enthusiastic and loud, Cat was a quietly bookish, bobbing her head to whatever Emily said, and unfortunately, Emily said
plenty.

  “Em can’t help it if she loves him, Lucy.” Cat mock pleaded dutifully, on Emily’s behalf, before she abruptly turned back to the open book in her hands. A grotesque picture of a lacerated boil flashed up at her. Lucy winced, shaking her head exasperatedly at her. Cat was nothing like her namesake, no claws whatsoever, a less cat-like Cat she’d never seen. At least when it came to her favourite twin. It was really Cat’s fault that Emily was such a handful.

  Cat was all about her ambition to one day become a doctor. It was her all-consuming goal and therefore her nose was forever buried in a book. If Lucy admired her little sister, Cat, for her brains and determination, she also despaired over her never standing up to Emily. If only she were not so mousy when it came to her twin. She was far too easily led by her more rambunctious replica, Emily.

  “This is beyond me. I’m telling mum,” Lucy exclaimed dramatically, drawing out her big guns at last. Ammo loaded and ready to fire at will, she narrowed her tawny eyes at them both. Hoping to put the fear of God into them. What did it take to get a good morning’s lie-in around this place?

  “Yes!” Emily cried out immediately, calling her bluff. “Let’s go see mum. She will see my side of it for sure.” In so saying, she turned on her heels and marched out the room door, head held high, with her trusty Cat at her heels.

  Lucy sighed in resignation. This was not the best start to her holidays. Summer break was just starting and, already, the shit was about to hit the fan. She could only imagine what the rest of summer was going to be like. She needed to get a job. It would keep her out of the twins’ hair and, more importantly, them out of hers, shorn short as it were.

  “But I love him, Mama!” The plaintive wail could be heard all the way up in her room.