The past year it’d cleared up so much. I’d been satisfied enough to see the barest hints of gold, in those moments when she laughed, or red, whenever I purposely pissed her off, or even orange when I frustrated the shit out of her—
Anythingto get rid of that black.
And here it is, staring me in my face all over again.
“Reuben,” Dahlia relaxes her body as she sings my name. “My first favourite cousin. You’re here just in time.” The corners of her lips have curled up into a natural smile, and if I were anyone else I could be convinced she’s happy to see me.
However, there isn't even a ripple in the dark energy around her.
“What happened?” My gaze hardens.
Her smile freezes on her face. I like that she still tries even when she knows it’ll never fool me. It never has and until the day I stop seeing these ‘energies’ asAbuelitacalls them, it never will.
Dahlia ignores me to turn back to the man standing in front of her. The smile never leaves her lips, but it doesn’t reach her eyes and only makes her look more frightening.
“Everett, this man is Reuben Taiga,” she introduces me almost lazily, “the main family’s golden child.”
I don’t bother to correct her since I can tell the situation is serious.
“Reuben, this is Everett,” her smile sharpens into something animalistic as she leans off the table and steps into Everett’s space. So close I’m sure he would’ve choked on the stench of her perfume if he could.
“The sole survivor of the Nash Operation.”
The words sit in the air for a long time, banging around in my skull before finally registering in my brain, and the impact of those words makes my gaze soften.
My poor cousin really never catches a break, but it’s not the time to give condolences, instead, my gaze shifts to Everett. Tall, muscular, clean-shaven. His hair is tied up in a ponytail and his face, bruised and swollen, as though he’d just been in a brawl for his life.
When Dahlia leaves his space, he finally allows himself to take a breath and she walks around the table to take a seat between her guards, leaning back to lap her leg. She appears composed, but tension radiates from her body. She’s itching for a fight and her eyes are fierce even though her voice is soft and sweet.
“Tell him everything you told me,” she orders sweetly.
I walk deeper into the room and watch Everett hold his breath again. I’m not a big guy, but people have a habit of being intimidated, no matter how harmless I try to appear. ‘Crazy energy’ or something myidiotabrother told me.
When I lean back against the desk and fold my arms, only then does Everett find the courage to speak again.
“Christian set us up.”
The room listens to his story for the second time, and out of the corner of my eyes I watch Dahlia’s knuckles turn white, her grip on the handles of the chair, deadly.
The Adler Squad had been the medicine for her darkness when her husband died. It didn’t cure her completely of her despair, but it helped. I saw it at every family gathering and Christmas party. Noticed it in her prideful eyes whenever she spoke of them.
But now even the medicine is gone.
And I’m not sure I can keep her from going over the edge this time.
Not when this bastard’s energy is a disgustingly satisfied yellow.
“So to summarize,” my voice finally breaks the silence in the air, and I’m trying my hardest to rein in the voice inside me that’s screaming with rage, “Christian Adler, the leader of the Adler squad sold out the team’s plan to let Nash escape.”
“That’s right, sir.”
He’s lying.
Yellow is the tell. It is one of the colours I hate most.
There’s an itch building inside me. It’s familiar and scratchy, clawing at my ribs to be let out, but I ignore it for now as I continue. “He killed the rest of the team, but you were able to avoid a fatal shot, so you killed him, and then Geoffrey Nash before he could escape.”
“Yes, sir.”
