I squeeze my eyes shut, leaning deeper into the pillow.I’m going crazy in here.The silence is deafening.I want to reach out to Freya and ask her to come over, but with her mother trying to get clean, grieving her brother’s death, and trying to mend Lucas’s broken heart, she’s got enough to deal with.
Every time I call her and ask if I can help her in any way, she says no.I still check in every day, just to be there for her.I wish I could take away her pain.My chest constricts, and it feels as though someone is stepping on it, making it hard to breathe.
I grab my black leather journal that’s worn around the edges, flicking through the pages that are covered in ink.Words that hold my deepest and darkest thoughts.I laugh.It knows me better than anyone.
I grip the black pen and start writing.With every stroke of ink, the heaviness on my chest starts to dissipate.
I feel trapped.Like I’m detained in my own home.With my hands gripping the bars.I’m screaming.Let me out.I feel helpless.Useless.I want to help, to make a difference and have some kind of purpose in this world.
I’m sick of being the precious princess who’s locked in her tower.I want to do something useful.To have some kind of impact.All I do is shop.Party.Sleep with men who are too scared of my brother to fuck me right.It’s fun, but it doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.
I’ve tried to do more in The Brotherhood, but Gage doesn’t allow it.He doesn’t want me to be part of it, says it’s his job, his responsibility, and no girl should be put in the firing line.He doesn’t want me getting hurt.He’d never forgive himself if I did.But can’t he see I’m fading away here?That doing nothing is slowly killing me?
I wish he’d notice or listen to me.Give me some kind of responsibility.But as a woman in this man’s world, I know I stand a snowball’s chance in hell.
I hate that it’s this way.
What would it be like if women were in power instead?Like me in charge of The Brotherhood.I know it’d never happen, but I can dream here.Of a time when I’m in charge of a movement to create union.Where women have more of a voice.
There’s a knock on my door.I finish the last line.
And I will.
I close my book, then put it into my top drawer.After rolling off my bed, I push my feet into my slippers and make my way over.Opening the door, I’m met with a familiar set of brown eyes.Lily, my old nanny.Huh?What’s she doing here?Still, one look at those familiar eyes, and I notice the sheen of tears.
My arms fly around her neck, and I pull her in.Her rosy scent feels like a warm hug.
“Oh, I’ve missed you,” I say, and Lily wails, holding me tighter.Oh God—something must be seriously wrong.
As wetness soaks into my knitted top, I pull back.Tears line her wrinkled cheeks, and I bring her into my room, closing the door.
“I’m so glad they let you in,” I say, and Lily wipes away her tears.“Are you okay?”I ask the question, though I already know she’s not.
I study her closely.Her graying hair is a mess, with pieces falling all around her face.Her eyes are bloodshot, and tears spill from them effortlessly.My heart aches as I wait for her to answer.
“I need your help.”Her words come out hoarse.She takes a seat on my bed, and I join her, taking her small hand in mine.
“Anything.”I mean it—I’d do anything for her.
She’s looked after me for as long as I can remember.It broke my heart when she left the family three years ago when I turned eighteen.Gage had insisted it was time for her to leave, but I hadn’t wanted her to.It was silly, a grown girl needing her nanny still, but it was nice to have a woman around—someone I could talk to about all the crazy things in my life.She never judged me, just always listened.
“It’s Jewel,” Lily says, and my chest tightens.
When Lily was fired, I lost my friend too.Jewel and I said we’d keep in touch, but she never returned my calls, and as time went on, I stopped making them.Maybe she was eager to get away from The Brotherhood princess, just like everyone else seems to be.
Still, I care for her.
“What about her?”I ask, tensing up.
“She’s missing,” Lily sobs.
“What do you mean, missing?”
Lily releases my hand and wipes hers on her linen pants.“I haven’t seen her much in three years, since we stopped working here.”Her words hang heavily in my room.
“What happened?”I ask, and Lily looks out the open door to my balcony.
“She began coming home late, with more money too.She was working at a restaurant called Pini.Then she started changing, becoming more distant.Never coming home, spending her nights with her ‘new friends,’ as she called them.”Lily releases a heavy breath.
