Lost : The Little Sisters Book One Read online

  “God.” Muttered Lucy, dragging herself out of bed to reach across the room to slam the door shut, and this time lock it. Her reflection caught in the mirror, drawing her rueful gaze down her scrawny length. But it was her unusually tanned skin that arrested her attention. As always, the colour of her skin raised ugly questions in her head.

  Questions she didn’t want answered. Questions she deliberately shied away from. Her dark-skinned heritage was just an aspect of her existence that she ran away from. Not because she resented her African American half of her gene pool, but she hated her birth father, Knyte Starr and what he represented. It was because of him, that her own twin remained lost to her.

  She was all of nineteen years old and she had never known her twin brother, Blaze. Blaze Starr had been kidnapped as a baby and had never been found. Was her twin brother dead? Had he suffered? All this time, where had he been?

  Turning away from her own reflection, Lucy firmed the tremble to her lips before turning back to take in her reflection. There wasn’t a day that had gone by where Lucy hadn’t mourned for the loss of her twin. Seeing Cat and Emily only made it glaringly more painful just what she had been missing. It was a dark cloud she carried with her everywhere she went.

  The twins, Cat and Emily, were a constant reminder of what she could have enjoyed, had her brother still been there with her. Her dark skin a reminder of a father who turned his back on her. But he no longer mattered. Lucy was her parents’ daughter now. The eldest Little girl. That was it. Her unusual colouring meant absolutely nothing. Deliberately tearing her gaze away from the colour of her skin, she took in the rest of her lithe figure.

  Tomboyish in appearance with her shorn goldish-brown locks and tall, thin frame, usually garbed in baggy t-shirts and shorts, Lucy did not come across as the bookish sort, and she wasn’t. The title of Nerdy Little was already safely in the bag, and bagged by none other than her sister, Cat. No, Lucy did not pass muster as any kind of a nerd; she was too athletic for that. A runner and a basketball player, she won the title of Sporty Little.

  Not that any of that mattered when one was lumped with a pair of twins who did their level best to create a new commotion every day. Although, in all honesty, it was just the incorrigible Emily who did the damage. But Cat, her shadow, was never far behind, lending her faithful support to no matter what hair-brained schemes Emily designed.

  The phone pealed, drawing her gaze away to it.

  Jace: Be there soon, honey. Get your lazy ass out of bed!

  “Fuck!”

  The message on the screen had her cussing. Honey? There was nothing sweet about her and Jace knew it. He also knew she hated being called that and did it on purpose anyway.

  Lucy: Go away!

  Lucy tapped out rudely. She didn’t need his taunting presence while she took care of business. Business being Emily’s untimely infatuation with her best friend and enemy—frenemy?

  Shaking her head, Lucy, stretched her pyjama-clad form into the simple yoga exercises she did each morning to rouse herself slowly, so that she could face the day’s catastrophes with some semblance of calm. A remnant of her schooldays’ teachings from one attentive coach. A method to hold her unruly temper at bay and cool down her chi. Something she needed doing constantly.

  A moment of nostalgia gripped her hard. School was out—for good. There would be so much she would no longer be returning to. Mrs Robin’s words of wisdom was just one of the many wonderful things she would be missing. Unwarranted tears moistened her eyes. Tears she rapidly blinked away.

  Show no weakness.

  It was a mantra she had to learn early. One she deployed at will whenever Jace was about.

  As the eldest of the Little siblings, Lucy took her role seriously. She was never losing another sibling, not if she could help it. Lucy knew her duty—protect the twins. Face all obstacles and overcome them. With sound reasoning and, if required, devious technique. In no way would she resort to tears as a mode of manipulation.

  That option had been already been snagged by Emily for herself, and from a very tender age. There had been no arguing with her about it then and there was no arguing with her about it now. The tears were hers. A weapon, to be honed and harnessed and used to all ill purposes.

  A watery smile tugged at the corner of Lucy’s lips. Emily was in for a heartbreak. It hurt her just to think about it. Why did it have to be Jace? Lucy lifted a hand to brush aside a recalcitrant tear. A sign of weakness. A sign that she wallowed in self-pity, or worse—that she clearly did not have her shit together.

  Picking out an old worn-out t-shirt, that had once seen better days and an equally trusty pair of shorts, Lucy disappeared into the bathroom. A quick shower later and she emerged to pad barefoot out her room and down the stairs to the living room.

  The old, worn carpet was soft beneath her feet and her hands rose, automatically, to straighten picture frames that held candid snapshots of the family. Reaching the last step, her feet paused of their own accord to afford her a full-length view of herself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror that marked the entrance.

  Drawn by her own image, Lucy padded closer to lean in and study the bags beneath her amber eyes. Eyes that sparkled gold when hit just right by the morning sun. They glowed gold at that moment, but Lucy was too busy peering beneath her long, dark lashes at the dark circles around her eyes to notice.

  Emily Little!

  But Lucy knew her annoyance at her little sister was unwarranted in this regard. It was not because of Emily that she was left with the dark smudges about her eyes; the last-minute cramming for her exams had done that damage.

  That, coupled with many a late night reading unsavoury books. Goths and space fiction being part of her latest fascination. Shaking her head over her own failings, Lucy turned away to head out to the kitchens, drawn against her better judgement by the aromatic scent of what had to be pancakes!

  “But I love him! I honestly do!”

  Lucy drew to an abrupt halt, to cringe inwardly, hearing her sister spout nauseating sentiments over the average boy was bad enough, but for her to turn it all on for Jace was just gross. It made her want to retch. As if Jace needed yet another notch to boost his already over-inflated ego. But a loud wail interrupted what could, at worst, have been a dry heave.

  Not a bad time to get enticed into throwing up—when she already had an empty stomach. Lucy braced herself for the inevitable, and ambled slowly towards the kitchens and the unwelcoming sounds of Emily crying over her new-found love, Cat’s faithful support, and their mum’s annoyed responses.

  Yep, there was every indication that the day would progress much along the same lines as usual.

  “And you know what? Jace loves me too!”

  The pang was instantaneous, but then reason prevailed. Jace would never! In a rare moment of compassion, Lucy felt a momentary twinge for poor Jace who was as yet unsuspecting of the emotional torpedo that was surely coming his way.

  Chapter 2

  “Lucy!”

  Their mum, Mary Little, rounded in on her, as soon as she set foot into the dining room. “Did you know about any of this?”

  “Cut her some slack, luv. At least let her have some coffee first.”

  Lucy’s dad, and frequent saviour, winked at her. Mum huffed as she waddled off to do her thing in the kitchen and Lucy grabbed herself a cup of coffee and went over to slump into a chair beside Dad.

  “Morning, Daddy,” Lucy said, leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “And, thank you,” she whispered as she leaned back. Dad was her favourite person in the whole wide world. He understood her. Stoic and kindly, he shouldered the emotional baggage of the Little women and faced the world bravely.

  Patrick Little smirked his usual secretive smile at her before diving back into the papers.

  Lucy paused for a moment assessingly, but the noise in the kitchens showed no signs of abating. She doubted the exquisite aroma of pancakes she had scented would ever materialise. With a heavy sigh, she
proceeded to slap together two slices of warm toast, slathered with a liberal amount of melting butter and sweet strawberry jam before cramming them into her mouth.

  “Tsk tsk,” Dad clucked at her shoddy table manners, but Lucy only grinned back unabashed.

  “So, she is in love with Jace today, is she?” Dad asked conversationally, after a while. He looked away from his paper at Lucy, wanting clarification. Emily’s on-again-off-again fascination with various men rarely pinged on their father’s radar, but Lucy wasn’t surprised to hear his interest in this one. He had business dealings with Jace’s father.

  In fact, he practically worked for him. He was the Neils’ family accountant after all.

  Lucy could only nod with her mouth still stuffed full. She munched slowly, hoping to reduce any need for further response to none. Discussing Emily’s love life, or lack thereof, was not the way she wanted to begin her day.

  “Fine! Go tell him that you love him. Make a fool out of yourself and your sisters for all I care,” declared their very flustered mother as she made her way back to the dining room with her sisters in tow. Mary placed a plate of bacon and eggs on the table and plopped down in her seat.

  “Are we expecting someone?” Lucy asked, eyeing the waiting plate of hot breakfast that her mouth instantly wanted to consume.

  “Jace is stopping over to fetch you girls for the long weekend.”

  The long weekend was four consecutive days off for those who worked, but it meant nothing to the Little sisters who were already on summer break. Lucy had already graduated but was still undecided over her career path, and Cat was waiting for term to start at university so she could pursue a career in medicine. That left only Emily, who would sadly be returning back to college, come the end of January. But the trio were on their break now and had been looking forward to having a leisurely time of it.

  Only, with Jace appearing so soon on the scene and commandeering their company for the weekend, it appeared the fates were ganging up against her. She appeared bound for a weekend from hell. Not only would she have to contend with Emily and her budding love for the infallible Jace Neil, but she’d have to suffer his smug mug for the duration as well.

  “Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Ohmigod!” Emily fell into instant raptures.

  Lucy rolled her eyes at Dad and chuckled outright at his look of mock revulsion. Dad loved Jace as if he were his own, but in light of Emily’s new-found infatuation with the poor fellow, even he could see the pitfalls of this visit.

  Lucy watched on with some amusement as both Emily and Cat squealed with joy. She scrunched up her face in distaste; starting her holidays in Jace’s constant company was not what she deemed fun, all things considered, but the twins’ enthusiasm was infectious. Lucy found herself reluctantly baring a gleeful grin. Time spent with the Neils was usually on the beach front and that could never be a bad thing. She’d have a chance to brush the cobwebs off her board. Suddenly, beaming in anticipation, Lucy did an about-face. Time with Jace would be as always—nothing short of fun.

  “This came for you, Lucy.” Mary Little returned with a largish envelope. Lucy paused instinctively, knowing who it was from. It was clear enough from the tone of her mother’s voice and written on her face besides, but Lucy tore her gaze away to stare at the envelope thrust in front of her.

  It was stamped San Francisco. A letter from the US. There was no pretending not knowing who it was from. It was no well-kept secret that Lucy Little was one Little who had no Little in her blood. She was the product of her mother’s teenage groupie fling with the then up-and-coming songwriter and singer—Knyte Starr.

  Lucy Little had once been Luxy Ara Starr, just as Mary Little had once been Mary Starr. Having been lodging abroad in pursuit of further studies, a chance encounter meant her mother had become entranced by Knyte Starr. A summer-long fling in his embrace resulted in a swift wedding and Lucy—born nine months later as Luxy Ara Starr.

  It was only six months after that tragedy struck and her twin brother, Blaze went missing. Broken hearted and deep in depression, Mary Starr took her only remaining child and fled back to Australia, where she later met and married Patrick Little.

  Knyte, broken and inconsolable, retreated from the limelight marking an abrupt ending to a budding career that would have seen him brushing shoulders with the very best of them. Ripe with grief, he vowed never to sing again until he had word his son was alive.

  And it was only six years earlier, on Lucy’s thirteenth birthday, that Knyte Starr stepped onto the stage to sing his first song since that tragedy. A ballade of love lost that catapulted him straight to the top of the charts, and he has remained there ever since.

  The letter sat on the table staring tauntingly at her. A letter, as always, addressed to Luxy Ara Starr. A name she no longer went by. It arrived each year on her real birthday. A birthday she no longer celebrated. Not just because of the loss her brother, which still pained her and her mother, but because she was no longer that person.

  Luxy Ara Starr died an infant the very night her brother went missing. She’d felt it then, in the sharp cry of pain she’d released as a baby and she felt it still—that hollowness near her chest. A hollowness that stung sharply every year to this day, and which pulsed with jealousy at the sight of the clear bond her younger, happier siblings still shared between them.

  Lucy turned away from the sight of the letter, feeling her appetite drain from her. She turned back to her meal to moodily pick at the crumbs on her plate.

  “You don’t have to open it now, if you don’t want to,” said Patrick Little, soothingly. As always, his deep baritone was a balm to her hurting soul. She managed a feeble smile of appreciation before turning to pour herself a glass of apple juice.

  Then the doorbell rang, Emily rushed over to wring it open, screeching out Jace’s name. Lucy covered both ears with her hands and cringed in embarrassment on her unwitting sister’s behalf. The excited chatter at the door could be heard all the way to the kitchen. She groaned out loud, hoping Emily hadn’t just blurted out her new-found love for him to his face. That would be the epitome of awkward.

  Already cringing for the inevitable, it was to that face—Jace appeared to greet. Thankfully, she was not the only one donning it. A quick look around showed that both Mum and Dad sported that very same look. Cat, of course, remained oblivious to any form of emotion at all.

  But the momentary pause, awkward at best, was swiftly overlooked. Jace did nothing by halves. The exuberance of his arrival swept about the kitchen in a tidal wave. Their mum was tugged into a heartfelt embrace, and all but wrung dry. She was released from his hold gasping for a breath.

  Their dad did not escape unscathed either; his hand was wrung in an enthusiastic shake. There was a lot of bustle, and then he was by Lucy’s side and reaching out for her. Caught up in the moment, Lucy lifted laughing, tawny eyes to meet his bright, grinning blues only to have her heart still. The catch of her breath as soon as their gazes clashed had the laughter drained right out of her. Time slowed to a thudding heartbeat and the most unusual tension sped down her veins.

  Their gaze clung and held. Bright blues warring with equally bright gold.

  Jace leaned in and her breath caught. Then his arms were going around her. She couldn’t hold back the shudder that raked down her thin frame. Thankfully, the ripple was concealed from all by his arms wrapped firmly around her.

  “Shhh,” he whispered in her ears huskily, as he rubbed his hand down her spine, soothingly, invariably sending a bout of goosebumps to break out all over her skin. A strange tingling emerged to settle in her heated core. Lucy’s eyelids grew heavy and her heart rate dropped to a sluggish beat.

  She dragged in a desperately ragged breath before, with another soothing murmur, Jace abruptly released her to catch the squealing Emily who floundered for his attention by pounding at his back.

  Just like that, the strange cocooning tension that had entranced her was gone and Lucy tuned back to the boisterous and noisy family
that they always were, feeling for once, strangely apart.

  She moved back a little, feeling the foreboding poignancy of changes to come. Her eyes swept over the group and avoided Jace’s altogether. But his pull was almost magnetic, and Lucy found herself going back, drawn to his gaze, again… and again. Brawny, blond haired, and light eyed, Jace looked more a part of her family than she ever did. He certainly had the easy rapport with them, built from years of hanging about intrusively in their mix.

  He made her feel alone and tossed out of the family fold. It was a common feeling whenever he came to visit. Which, to her way of thinking, was a tad too often, even with them being besties. Lucy was not his only friend, even if he was hers.

  Lucy flexed her hand, willing the blood to flow back to her chilled fingertips. She didn’t like the feeling that came over her whenever Jace came around. But there seemed to be absolutely nothing she could do to will her awareness away. God knows she’d tried.

  “Let’s get back to breakfast, dears,” advised Mary Little. “It’s getting cold.”

  Murmuring their agreement, they settled back down to breakfast at the table, this time with Jace joining them, taking up the chair Mary indicated, before a steaming plate of bacon and eggs.

  “I was making your favourite, Jace,” said Mary, “Pancakes. But you know how Cat is,” she shook her head exasperatedly. “She only takes her claws out for all kinds of flatbreads.”

  “Studying burns up a lot of calories,” shrugged Cat dismissively. “I don’t see why you were making Jace the pancakes. What about me?”

  “Us?” Chipped in Lucy, unable to retain her affront at that. She instantly regretted that input, when a pair of bright blues pinned onto her own. Her breath stilled, and she turned blue.

  “You don’t need to make me my favourites, Mary,” said Jace, slowly dragging his gaze away and allowing Lucy to breathe easy once more. Her breath came out in a rush, drawing her father’s reapproving gaze and drowning out the rest of Jace’s words, so that only the meaningless low murmur of his deep baritone could be heard. Lucy turned her gaze back to her plate.