“I was so upset that I went into my room and tore up that poster. Then, finally, I cried myself to sleep.”
I’m just about to tell her that I’d saved up all my yardwork money, ready to buy her the dog of her dreams, when the look on her face drops, expression turning deadly as she scratches Shadow’s head.
“I think he told me no because he didn’t want the dog to be loyal to me instead of him. Couldn’t have something protecting me when he chased me through the woods, right?” she says with numbness in her tone, a forced laugh barking from her lips.
The atmosphere in the room turns somber; a fucking black shadow cast over our heads as our past hangs heavy between us.
Flipping onto my back, I tear my hands through my hair, ripping at the roots until the pain at my scalp distracts me from the anguish in her words.
“You know I’m fucking sorry, right… I’m so, so, fucking sorry, angel.” I rise on the bed to kneel beside her. Shadow licks my hand as I take Amira’s face, forcing her gaze to meet mine. “I would have come for you. I fucking swear it. I would have come. I just… Tommy… I lost it, and by the time everything came to… I was being taken away.”
My apology doesn’t even come close to being good enough, and the fucking crestfallen look on her face is all the reassurance I need to do fucking better.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she whispers, pushing back the curl of hair that falls over my eye.
“Okay,” I concede, pressing my lips gently against hers before jumping off of the bed altogether.
Our wounds are still too fucking fresh to deal with right now, but there are too many things unsaid between us, too many revelations we need to unpack.
The games.
Her family.
We’re fucking half-siblings.
That last thought sends chills down my spine as I step from the room into the bathroom across the hall. Bile surging into my mouth as I think over the moment Adrianna dropped that fucking bomb on us.
I thought I had died and was watching everything I loved being shattered around me.
It was a fucking lot to take in. It’s still too much to absorb, but I fucking love Amira, and regardless of our DNA, I’m gonna be with her until the day I die.
The bathroom door opens as I’m washing my hands, then Amira steps in beside me to grab her toothbrush from the counter.
We brush our teeth in silence, the image of a perfect, happy couple reflected in the mirror in front of us.
It’s funny how mirrors work. They show us how we appear outside, but not as we are. It fails to shed light on the fucking rot that taints our blood.
We are not the image in the mirror. Instead, we’re the people who escaped hell, only to make it on the other side with our demons still scraping their fangs along our hearts.
I hold the foamy mint toothpaste in my mouth as I wait for Amira to finish her facial routine, ready to choke on the fucking shit if she doesn’t hurry the fuck up and wash the pomegranate scented scrub off of her face.
Her bratty stare meets mine in the reflection, a tilt lifting her lips as she slows down her process.
I’m about to tickle the shit out of her to get her to move away from the sink when a sudden banging comes from the front door.
Our heads shift in that direction simultaneously, wondering who the fuck is banging on our door at almost three in the afternoon.
Using her distraction for my gain, I spit the spearmint foam into the sink, but at the last second, she moves back, causing some to get in the ends of her hair.
“Roman!” she screams, spinning around swiftly to smack me over my shoulder, but I’m just too fast for her and slip through the doorframe before her palm can connect.
“I’m going to get you back!” I hear her shout as I scamper through the hall.
I wipe my hand over my mouth, ensuring any toothpaste residue is gone before I open the door.
What the fuck?
“Dude. What the fuck are you doing?!” I ask, watching Ash vomit into the bushes by the stair rail.
