First Look: Chapter Two of Unlucky Like Us (Patreon)

And so it continues! This is the second chapter of Unlucky Like Us. If you haven't yet, be sure to read Chapter One first. Soon, very very soon, the entire novel will be here!! We. Are. Pumped! And we truly hope you enjoy this part and all that's to come 👽💜💘✨⌛️🌟

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“Me?” Farrow says.

“Yeah, you,” my dad retorts. “I want to laugh. I would really goddamn love to, but this has to stop.” He raises his hands in a way like he’d love to strangle his son-in-law.

Farrow looks stumped. “I don’t follow, Lo.”

“You. Donnelly. Acting like you’re nothing more than two hallway acquaintances.” He stakes a glare on him. “Do you know how annoying that is? Do you know how different things would’ve been if you’d just been upfront with me?”

Visceral heat radiates off Farrow’s brown eyes. He could give Cyclops a good run. “I’ve been upfront with you, Lo. I told you exactly the kind of person Donnelly is, and you still chose not to listen to me.”

“You never said you met him when he was seventeen.”

Farrow’s face screws up. “What difference would that’ve made?”

“Papa?” Ripley blubbers up at Farrow.

He takes a breath. “It’s okay, little man.” He kisses his son’s cheek. “Lily, do you mind…?”

After my mom ditches the broom and fills the dustpan, she gladly lifts her grandchild in her arms. She bops his nose, and Ripley lets out the cutest giggle. I’m a little jealous of the baby cuddles. I just hug my arms around my body.

Farrow faces my dad head-on. “And?”

“You were teenagers.”

“Okay, but what does that change? I told you that he has no bad bone in his body. I told you that he’d give you the last shirt he owns. Right off his back. Shit, I told you he’s been kind towards the women he’s been with, and he would let Luna rule his world if she wanted to. I told you he’d be there for her. I told you they’d be good together. So what the hell does us meeting as teenagers have to do with shit?”

“I wish I knew what he meant to you from you or even him. Not from Luna. Not from Moffy. Instead, you just kept telling me who he is.”

Farrow keeps shaking his head.

“You left out an important part.”

Farrow breathes angrier, shaking his head harder. “I didn’t.”

“You forgot to tell me he’s like your brother.”

It knocks Farrow one step backward. He rotates his head away from my dad.

“That’s the thing, Farrow. I had no goddamn idea the depth of how close you were to him. I didn’t know what he meant to you.” My dad cringes into a wincing smile. “And that’s the other thing, I should’ve known. It was right there in my face.” Guilt knits his brows. “He was your best man, but for some goddamn reason, I thought you were just college buddies. Crossed paths later and decided to become bodyguards around the same time. But you aren’t just college friends. Right?”

Farrow takes the longest second to recoup from this bombshell. I haven’t seen him this frazzled before. Not much ever seems to unsettle him.

My dad crushes the silence first. “I learned that he followed you to Yale when he was a teenager. I did some digging after that nonchalant comment from Paul, and I learned from ‘sources’ that he stayed with you for most of your adult life. I learned that you do know him better than anyone else on this fucked planet, so you can stop acting like you don’t.”

Farrow’s eyes are reddened as they meet my dad again. “It shouldn’t have mattered. I gave you enough.”

“I didn’t know how deeply you knew him. So when you vouched for him, I would’ve liked to know it was coming from the closest thing he has to a fucking brother.”

Farrow looks tortured. He combs a rough hand through his hair.

Dad sees. He blinks a lot, like he’s reassessing what he’s saying to Maximoff’s husband. “I’m not trying to blame you, Farrow. I should’ve asked more questions. I should’ve realized sooner. I’m not saying you’re at fault—”

“You’re saying it would’ve made a difference,” Farrow says through clenched teeth. “I don’t advertise my relationships like they’re commercials on a fucking TV screen for other people to consume. They just exist. They are.”

“I guess I missed it,” my dad says, bitterness to his words. “Maybe I didn’t even want to see it. Maybe I was afraid of what it’d mean. You and him. He’d be inescapable.” Skin pleats between his cinched brows. “It would’ve been easier to be slapped in the face with the truth. But that never happened.” My dad shrugs at Farrow. “Why do you both undercut what you are to each other? You more than him? I don’t get it. Honestly. What’s the point?”

“We don’t undercut shit,” Farrow says quietly, almost under his breath. “We know what we mean to each other, and that’s all that’s ever mattered. This is the first time it’s ever been a point of contention with anyone.”

“I would’ve liked to know,” my dad says just as quietly. “It would’ve meant something to me.”

“We didn’t grow up together,” Farrow reminds him.

“Neither did me and my brother. I met Ryke the day I turned twenty-one.”

Realizations wash over me about the same time that Farrow’s expression changes shape. I think we’re both understanding just how much this would’ve meant something to my dad. He loves Ryke to his deepest, rawest core, and I wonder if he’s reevaluated everything Farrow has ever said about Donnelly.

I wonder if that’s ultimately a big reason why his heart has shifted.

I imagine he’s thinking if Farrow has seen good in Donnelly for years, if Farrow loves Donnelly to his deepest, rawest core, then maybe Donnelly isn’t a bad influence or a bad guy. Maybe he’s a man worthy enough to be with his daughter.

To be with me.

I don’t even care that it might’ve taken Farrow to change my dad’s perspective.

I don’t care that it wasn’t me who could’ve done it.

I’m just glad it’s happening.

It’s shifting.

Hope glimmers, and I wonder if Donnelly saw this tiny spark before he left the house. I wonder if this is partly what he was trying to leave me with too.

My dad holds Farrow’s gaze. “Christ, you were younger than even me and my brother when you two met.”

Farrow is unblinking, stunned silent.

“I would’ve liked to know,” my dad says strongly. “It would’ve mattered. And I don’t know why it is, but the bonds we make matter to other people. I know that Ryke and Rose’s friendship matters to me. Connor and Daisy matter to me. Willow and Daisy matter. Garrison and Lily matter. Just like you and Donnelly are going to matter to me. Hell, you both may even annoy me.” He grimaces but stares deeper into Farrow. “But these relationships mean something to the people who love you. And I love you like a son, and I’m…I’m sorry I didn’t take your word beforehand. I’m sorry I’m an ass. I’ve been an ass. You deserved a father-in-law who listened, and I didn’t. But I promise, I’m going to try from now on.”

Mom smiles a soft, proud smile over at Dad, but like me, she’s on pins and needles looking back at Farrow.

His eyes are bloodshot, and his nose flares from emotion. “I’m going to hate knowing that’s all it would’ve taken for you to believe me earlier, because I would’ve done anything, Lo. I would’ve done anything for him.” His Adam’s apple bobs against his neck tattoos, and he scrapes another hand through his hair. “There is something that I thought would’ve made a difference—but it was never that.”

“Yeah?” my dad frowns.

“Yeah.” Farrow takes a beat. “I’ve been wishing I could give you the slam-dunk: the reason you’d actually feel like shit for ever hating Donnelly, but I couldn’t. Because I love that motherfucker, and when he tells me not to say shit to you, I don’t say shit to you, but you need to ask him. At some point. You need him to tell you everything he’s done.”

I assume this has to do with the adoption and Ripley. All my penthouse roommates know Scottie only let Farrow and Maximoff adopt Ripley after a deal that Donnelly made. He’s been giving Scottie his paycheck, and as far as I know, my dad has no clue Donnelly has been broke for Moffy’s son.

“I’ll ask him,” he says.

I take a small step forward. “You don’t hate Donnelly anymore?”

Dad locks eyes with me. I’ve been pretty quiet, and my voice sounds raspy and hurt still. I can see him trying to soften his gaze for me, but honestly, it’s making him look constipated. “I’m getting to know him. Let’s start there, okay?”

I nod, knowing it’s a beginning at least. He’s never really tried before.

“But you need to put the brakes on this, Queen of Thebula.”

“Dad—”

“You and him. Brakes. Can you do that?” Severity sharpens his gaze.

Pain flares again. “But—”

“His family is dangerous, Luna. There are no buts. I’m handling this with Donnelly. It’s the team-up no one saw coming, especially me.” He touches his chest. “It’s Cyclops and Peepers.”

“Peepers?” I cringe at the worst X-Men villain ever. He did not just refer to Donnelly as Peepers. His enlarged eyes and bald head make him look like a toad.

Like my dad is eating glass, he slowly amends, “Cyclops and whoever you choose.”

I don’t know if Donnelly reminds me of anyone but himself, but I’d never cast him as a villain.

“Peter Parker,” I say softly. I think about Peter’s tragic backstory and light-heartedness amidst adversity as he swings between buildings with a joke and a laugh. He’s also one of my favorites. “Spider-Man.”

Dad makes another cringey face. “Fine. Cyclops and Spider-Man.”

A team-up. It is a strange reality, but one that feels better than them being at odds.

Dad looks at me with more seriousness. “And in the meantime, just use some patience.” He glances over at Mom. “Does anyone in this family have any?”

Mom raises her hand. “Me.”

He smiles lovingly. “Yes, you do, love.” He swings his head back to me. “Your mom will share some patience with you.”

“All the patience,” Mom says to me, like we’ll get through this together. I’m not alone. It tries to swell inside me. It tries to banish cynicism and dark tides. But negative voices creep up and whisper, you have to do this alone. You shouldn’t need her aid.

“I’ll help.” Kinney begins to smile. “Let’s take down the Donnelly family.”

Dad turns to her. “This is a solo slaughtering, little Slytherin.”

She gapes. “But you just said Donnelly is helping!”

“How exactly is he helping?” Farrow questions, more ire in his stance.

“We’re working on it. If you want to join, I might accept your membership. We’ll see.”

Kinney looks peeved that she’s not being included.

“Might,” Dad assures her.

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”

Farrow runs a finger over his lip piercing. “You said you’re going to protect him, Lo. So if your fucking plan is to send him back to South Philly to speak to his father, you better not hang him out to dry. Or else I’ll have a problem with you.”

Dad wears another half-smile. “Spoken like a true brother.”

“I’m serious.”

“As am I.” He shifts his weight, his sarcasm replaced with real gravity. “I’m going to protect him. I promise you that.”

My teeny tiny ember of hope sparks to life again. Maybe, possibly, taking down the Donnelly family is a priority to my dad. Maybe it’s not something impossible.

Maybe it’s right around the corner.

At what cost, though? The concern all over Farrow is verging on fear, and I know how heinous the Donnelly family is. They went after Beckett on Halloween, and in turn, they assaulted Beckett’s bodyguard. But I’ve never really met anyone related to Donnelly. All I have is my overactive imagination.

I start to picture Donnelly drifting in the dark. I picture him opening a door and drowning in a sea of vipers. My pulse races, and my deepest desire is to run right after him. I think of all the times he’s run after me, and I don’t want him to be alone.

But we’re not together, so how does this even work?

“Unlucky Like Us," Copyright © 2023 by K.B. Ritchie