Her mother's house.

Impossible as it may be, she finds James’ truck parked in the drive, and her nipples swell at the sight of it. James is here, she is sure of it, though she cannot figure out how that might be. Her mother and James have never gotten along well. Though her mother is beautiful, she is also at odds with the world, angry at having the life that she has had and even angrier to see her daughter making similar mistakes. James was, in Paige’s mind, just another reason to abandon Kendall and berate her for her mistakes. Images of James’ dick flash in Kendall’s mind however, and Kendall wonders if that has any influence over why he is here.

When Kendall had left James, she had done it quickly and while he was out of the house. In effect, she had left him penniless and homeless. James had no job at the time and had little interest in finding one, and the last she heard from him before his sudden return, he was going to be kicked out of his house, unable to pay his bills. At the time, she had felt justified, and even now she doesn’t feel guilt, but she does feel fear as to what that made him do and how he did it.

She steps shakily from her car, putting one foot in front of the other in a slow, uncertain succession, all the way up to the front door. The stairs, in particular, are a difficult climb despite their brevity. At the door, she stops to take in the yard, the house, counting the stories and the garage, peeking as well as she can into the back yard, trying desperately to prove herself wrong. Her fears are confirmed, however, when she knocks at the door and has it answered by her brother, Oliver. At least, she thinks it is Oliver.

He meets her at the door wearing white lingerie. All his life, Oliver has been a slender and anxious man. When Kendall last saw him, he wouldn’t leave him room for fear of the world outside. His hair had grown long and unkempt, his nails untrimmed, and his time was spent shuffling alone in the darkness, gaunt and afraid. In youth, the two had been almost identical despite the two years that separated them, and now he looks very much like her again, save for missing the curves and the freckles across his nose. Everything else, though, is nearly a mirror image.

She stammers his name, and he smiles a pink-painted smile before showing her in. From up the stairs that lead to the living room, James’ booming voice shatters the silence. “Olivia, who the fuck is it?” Kendall’s heart hurts when she hears him.

Blushing, Oliver turns his back on Kendall, his slender ass displayed by sheer white panties, the fabric of which rides up between his cheeks. He adjusts the panties while calling back to James, “It’s Kendall, daddy.”

“Then bring her fat ass up here.”

“Yes, sir,” Oliver says, turning back to Kendall and smiling again. “Come on in, Kendall, he is just up the stairs.”

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