“Welcome,” he says with a shrug, then follows his brother up the stairs.
Maryanne frowns. “What has gotten into them?” she mutters, then looks at me. “I apologize for their behavior.”
She moves to put an arm around me, and I instinctively sidestep her. She doesn’t seem to take it personally.
“I promise,” she says gently, “we’re happy you’re here, Lina. Just give them time. They’ll come around.”
I really hope she’s right. Otherwise, the next four months are going to royally suck.
∞∞∞
Later that evening, I’m lying in my new bed, earbuds in, music low, letting the familiar rhythm of my favorite playlist numb the static in my head.
Suddenly, my bathroom door slams open.
Shit. I forgot to lock that.
Axel storms in like a thundercloud, fury radiating off him. There’s heat behind his eyes—anger, yes, but something colder too.
Instinct kicks in. I scramble upright, heart hammering, sliding back until I’m pressed against the headboard. I yank my earbuds out just as he looms over me.
Too close.
His presence feels predatory, and I hate that my first instinct is to brace for impact.
“Let’s get a few things straight,” he growls, jabbing a finger at me. “You”—he practically spits the word— “don’t belong here. We heard all about Joe. You’re putting everyone in this house at risk. Our lives aren’t worth yours.”
He straightens, jaw tight, voice low and cruel.
“Why don’t you just repack your shit and let witness protection stick you somewhere else?”
My mouth is dry. I swallow hard before I manage a whisper.
“B-Ben wants me here.”
It sounds pathetic, even to me.
Axel barks out a mean laugh.
“Ben loves playing the hero. Your daddy wants everyoneto see what a good guy he is, taking in his poor, troubled daughter.”
The words land harder than I want them to. I don’t want to believe him, but I’ve never had a parent choose me. At least not without needing something in return. Ben’s been nothing but kind, but I’m still waiting for the catch. Still holding my breath. People don’t just...care.Not for free.
Axel must see it on my face. His smirk widens like he’s scored a win, and maybe he has, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of watching me fall apart.
“I know,” I reply calmly.
The smug look on his face falters. He wasn’t expecting agreement.
“You’re right. My life isn’t worth more than anyone else’s, but I have nowhere else to go. I turn eighteen in January, and my plan is to be gone the second I’m legal. You’ll never have to see me again.”
A flicker of something… guilt? Understanding? Seems to pass over him, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appears. He snaps back to that mask of cold indifference.
“We only have to coexist for the next four months,” I tack on, trying to pacify him.
“Fine,” he snaps. “Don’t get comfy.”
He turns on his heel and disappears through my bathroom door, slamming it shut behind him.
