“Then why don’t I ever hear from you? Why did I have to find out where you work from Thorne?”
“Thorne told you where I work?” I’m surprised she found out through my best friend and not Father. Even though I go through great pains not to communicate with the asshole who sired me, I know he keeps track of my movements. Where I live. Where I work. He probably thinks he does it out of love, and even if that’s true, it’s a twisted, controlling love. I’ve considered leaving Jasper and the Earthen Court altogether just to place distance between us, but I stay close for several reasons. Sheer stubbornness. Proof that we may live in the same city, but my life is my own. And Angela.
If I ever catch even the slightest whiff that he’s pulling the same bullshit with her that he pulled with me, I will end him. His reputation, his position in the government. I’ll end all of it with the secrets I keep.
But ruining my father means ruining the whole Phillips name, Angela included.
Which is why I chose to leave the family yet remain close by. To stay quiet. To bear this burden alone.
“Thorne is the reason I had to hunt you down,” Angela says. She removes a letter from her purse and hands it to me. “He wanted to ensure you received this in person, so I offered to deliver it.”
I open the envelope and pull out the letter inside. The script is messy and slanted in expression of my friend’s displeasure.
Greetings fucker,
Why haven’t you RSVPed to my goddamned wedding yet, you prick? Oh, I know. It’s because your answer is so obvious you’ve decided a response would be superfluous, right? Right. You’re my best man, you asshole. Get your pathetic ass to the Cyllene Hotel by Friday afternoon next week or my soon-to-be wife will haunt your nightmares, and I’ll bake you into a pie.
I’m serious.
I will kill you.
Best,
Thorne
I glance back up at Angela. “You didn’t read this did you?”
“No, why would I? It’s quite rude to read one’s personal correspondence.”
“Good. Thorny boy uses quite a lot of expletives when dealing with me.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m in college now, dear brother. You wouldn’t believe the colorful language I hear on the daily. You don’t have to be so protective.”
I read the letter over again, guilt sinking my gut. To be honest, I forgot about the wedding invitation I received several months back. Between establishing myself at a new job and fretting over loan payments, I left my best friend’s wedding in the back of my mind. I didn’t realize the time had already come. Now that it has, I’m not sure what to do. If I’m expected at the Cyllene Hotel by next Friday, I’ll have to leave the day before. I’ll have to miss one of the fixed matches and, in turn, my weekly payment. Furthermore, if the wedding is on Saturday, I’ll be gone all weekend. I won’t have any case study lessons or modeling sessions with Daphne.
“So,” Angela says, “are you going to go? You can’t refuse.”
I give her a scolding look. “You said you didn’t read it.”
“I didn’t, but I know what it’s about. I’m going to the wedding, after all.”
Of course she’s going. She’s always considered Thorne Blackwood a second brother, and most of the time she seems closer to him than she is to me.
She wrings her gloved hands. “Well, in truth, I can only go to the wedding if you’re going. Father won’t allow me to travel so far unless I have a proper escort.”
“I doubt Father considers me a proper escort,” I say under my breath.
“He said so himself. If you agree to act as my chaperone, he’ll give me permission. He’s just outside if you want to confirm?—”
“He’s here?” My lungs tighten, my eyes darting to the closed door to my office. The blood leaves my face with every panicked pulse of my heart. I can’t stand the thought of seeing his face. Hearing his voice.
“He’s at the café across the street,” Angela says, her expression pinched with worry.
I heave a breath and take a cigarillo from my silver case. My igniter trembles between my fingers as I light it. After a deep inhale of the herbal smoke, my nerves begin to calm. I return my attention to my sister and find her eyes on me.
“What happened between you?” she says, her voice soft. “What happened to our family? What are you and Father and Mother not telling me?”
I take another drag while I consider what to say. I hate keeping such a secret from her, but she can’t know the truth. She can’t know because Father has ensured I can’t tell a soul. It’s his fault I can never get close to anyone. His fault I bear life-altering secrets bound in a bargain of silence. His fault my sister considers my best friend more of a brother than me.
