Free LoversFeud by Ann Jacobs

within five feet of the others, keeping his arm around his trembling sister as he tried to rein in his own anger that was threatening to take control.
    His father’s attention was so focused on his mistress, he apparently didn’t hear them approach. But Bye heard the woman clearly enough.
    “Now that she’s dead, you can sell my place in Lubbock and I can move here. With you,” Marianne said to Byron, sandwiching his hand between both of hers. Bye couldn’t help noticing her long, scarlet nails. They reminded him of the slashing talons on a falcon.
    This is the day of my mother’s funeral, for God’s sake. What are these people doing in her living room? Why are Deidre and I listening to the old man’s whore acting as if Mae Caden never was?
    What the hell was the woman thinking about? So furious he didn’t care that he was literally getting into a woman’s face, Bye stepped forward and stared down at her, not even trying to mask his fury. “Ms. Duval, this is my mother’s home. Mine and Deidre’s as well. Don’t think you can weasel your way in here just because you’ve been our father’s whore for years.”
    He heard Jack’s deep intake of breath and sensed the other man had stood and was coming closer. Yeah, Bye had just insulted Jack’s mother. And he didn’t regret it. He might halfway pity Jack for the situation his mother had put all of them in, but right now he would damn reason and take any excuse to make mincemeat out of the man, mainly because he couldn’t tear in to Marianne or any woman, bitch or not. His mom had taught him better than that. “Back off, Jack,” he said through clenched teeth.
    “Apologize.” Four’s growled order didn’t carry quite the weight it had with Bye for the past twenty-some-odd years. But it still had that familiar ring of authority.
    Bye heeded it because it reminded him that his mom had also taught him never to insult a lady. Though he hardly considered Marianne Duval a lady, he figured she was probably a rung or two above your common garden-variety hooker. After all, his old man insisted on owning the best of everything—whores apparently included. “I apologize. My comments were out of line. But you have to know we—at least Deidre and I—don’t want you here. We’ve just lost our mother. This has come as a shock, hearing right after burying Mom that our father has apparently been keeping a mistress since before either of us was born, not to mention that a man we thought was our friend is actually our half brother.”
    His fists balled so tightly his knuckles turned white, and his face set in a fierce pose Bye knew meant trouble, Four stood and motioned toward the door. “That’s enough. Marianne, you’re not moving in here, now or ever. I’ve never given you any reason to believe otherwise. I don’t appreciate you barging in on us today. You go on home to Lubbock, now, and stay there. You will hear from me soon.”
    Bye had the feeling the woman wouldn’t like what she’d be hearing from Four. He’d been on the receiving end of his father’s temper often enough to recognize that tightly controlled disdain masked true fury about to be unleashed.
    Four turned back toward Bye and Deidre. “Bye, I’ll excuse your rudeness this time, but don’t let it happen again. It’s been a long and difficult day. It’s past time for us to say goodbye.”
    When Marianne made no move to leave, Jack placed a firm hand on her arm and lifted her to her feet. “Come on, Mother. Let’s go,” he said in a tone that suggested she’d do well to obey. “Deidre, Bye, I’m sorry for your loss. Father , I’ll be talking to you later.”
    * * * * *
    Bye could hardly wait for the door to slam behind Jack Duval and his father’s mistress before changing out of his suit and escaping. Whereas before the funeral grief had hung heavy in the house, now a pungent aura of betrayal pervaded every room, its scent oppressive. He doubted the place would ever feel like home