“Let me go.”
“Answer the fucking question.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Summer entering the living room, but I don’t look away from Chris as I lean in close and whisper, “Yes. I fucked him.”
There’s no point in denying it, not when I’m wearing the proof on my skin. Besides, why lie? What’s he going to do? Forbid me from leaving the house? Lock me up? Join the fucking line.
“How could you be so fucking stupid?” he asks, dropping me as if he can’t bear to look at me anymore. “Do you think he cares about you? That you’re special? Are you really that naive? Desperate for attention?”
“Enough!” I shout. It sucks that I’m tearing up, but I refuse to stand here and listen to him talk to me like this, not when I can still feel Kane inside me every time I shift.
“You don’t get to dictate my life, Chris. I’m sick of it!”
I move around him. He grips my arm again, digging his fingers into my skin. I avoid looking at him. I can’t. If I do, I’ll start to cry. That’s the last thing I need right now.
“Chris… Don’t…” Summer’s soft, hesitant voice cuts through the tense air between us. He hesitates. I can feel it. Then he snaps, “This doesn’t concern you.”
I remember a time when he was one of my closest friends. Back then I looked up to him. Late at night, he’d sneak into mine and Summer’s room with a flashlight and his favorite adventure book. It was tattered and had a broken spine after years of being handled by grubby children’s fingers but that made it even more special.
We’d hide under the quilt and turn the pages until one of us fell asleep, usually Summer because she was the youngest. We already knew the story by heart so we’d make up our own.
I miss those days when we’d go on imaginary adventures to distant lands. I’m not sure exactly when we stopped, but it happened somewhere between our father’s tenth beer on Thanksgiving and Chris’s introduction to his right hook. My brother had to grow up quickly after that to keep us safe.
“Please, Chris,” Summer pleads quietly, standing meekly in the doorway.
Sometimes I wish she weren’t so soft. This world and all the sharks in it will swallow her whole if she doesn’t toughen up, but other times I hope she never loses her gentle nature. It’s a rare gem.
“Go upstairs.” Our brother’s strained voice leaves no room for argument and she heads back upstairs after a final uncertain glance in my direction.
“What are you gonna do?” I ask him as the steps creak beneath Summer’s feet. “Use your fists like Dad?”
It’s a low blow. A really fucking low one. My brother would never hurt me or our sister. I know that. But I still can’t stopmyself from lashing out. There’s this ache in my chest that demands relief, and the only time I feel somewhat sane is when I’m with Kane. Honestly, I like myself when I’m with him. The same can’t be said for this version of myself right now. She’s not a nice person.
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t fucking say that.” Chris looks down at me, but I can’t meet his gaze. “Mark my fucking words when I tell you this, little sis. Ravencourt is not an option for you. Got that? Whore yourself out to him again and see what happens.”
There’s something about our fights that brings out the worst in us. Maybe because there’s deep-rooted trust and love there, which can turn ugly sometimes.
I swing before I can stop myself. His reflexes are quicker. He catches my wrist. We lock in a tense standoff, glaring at each other. He looks ready to kill, and I know the same fury is reflected in my own eyes.
I remember a time when he was my refuge, someone I wanted to share my secrets with. Then we grew up. Look at us now. We’re broken.
This home, this family, is held together by playing cards.
A flicker of regret flashes in his eyes before disappearing just as quickly. He drops my hand with a disgusted scoff and stalks off. The door slams shut behind him, making me flinch. Before the silence can settle, his battered car reverses out of the driveway.
Tears finally fall. My bottom lip wobbles as I wipe my cheeks dry. My heart feels bruised, but there’s no time to recover. Mom needs me. I should spend time with her.
Screw Chris and his stupid pride. Maybe one day he’ll set it aside and do the right thing instead of hiding behind cowardice.
The bell above the café door jingles as Summer and I step inside, warm air wrapping around us, heavy with the scent of roasted coffee and cinnamon. We’re already late. Between losing track of time at the hospital and a road collision that turned the drive into a nightmare, it couldn’t be helped.
Rain is settled at a small table near the window, sipping a steaming cup of coffee while typing on her phone. Her purple hair is swept over one shoulder, a bright streak against her dark tank top. Silver hoops catch the light when she tilts her head.
“Sorry, we’re late.” I pull out a chair and sink into it. My coffee waits for me, dark and steaming in a chipped mug. Thank heavens for small mercies. After the drive we just had, I need caffeine.
Rain sets her phone down. “I already ordered for you both.”
“Have I told you that you’re my hero?”
