Moving slowly, I locked my car and walked toward the steps, forcing my heartbeat to steady itself. Victor’s head lifted, and when he smiled, a sick, twisted version of something that once used to be brotherly, a shiver crawled down my spine.
I clenched my jaw so hard I tasted blood.
The struggles of our childhood had shaped us differently. I had used them as fuel, a reason to keep going, to keep fighting, to get the hell out. Victor had let them consume him. The boy who had once shielded me from our father’s rage had disappeared, leaving behind someone unrecognizable—someone desperate, cruel, and dangerous.
I had given him chances to prove that version of him still existed.
Those times were long gone.
My voice was calm, controlled, a blade honed to lethal precision. “Victor. You have three minutes to get off my stairs before I call the police.”
“Great to see you too, sis.” He stood, and with it came the reek of body odor, cigarettes, and old sweat, the stench curling in the cool air between us. His teeth were yellowed, his hair greasy, his clothes wrinkled and hanging off him like they belonged to someone else.
I felt nothing but disgust.
No guilt. No sympathy. He had made his choices.
“Word is you’ve done well for yourself.” His gaze swept over me, but I didn’t flinch. “Went and found yourself a money man.”
And just like that, I knew what this was about.
Money. Brooks.
I should have known the second I saw the note.
I forced my shoulders to stay relaxed, tilted my head with indifference. “Not quite sure what you mean.” Glancing at my watch, I raised a brow. “Two minutes, thirty seconds.”
Victor didn’t move, but his smile widened, the sick amusement in his eyes making my stomach tighten.
“You’re dating that baseball guy. He has a nice house and drives a nice car. A Lexus, huh? Doesn’t seem to care that you’re from a trailer-trash family.”
The words punched me in the chest, but I didn’t react. I had spent too many years building armor against this exact attack.
“My life is none of your business.” I crossed my arms but kept the mace within reach. “You made damn sure of that.”
His smile faltered, just for a second, before he spat on the ground, shaking his head. “Dad would be so proud to see you be such a slut.”
I went still.
The rage built so fast, so sharp, that I almost saw red. My nails dug into my palm, my breath coming out hard, controlled, slow.
He ran a hand through his hair, acting like he hadn’t just slapped me across the face with words.
“He looks good,” he mused. “Prison cleaned him up.”
Every part of me locked up. My breath stuttered, my heart slamming against my ribs as my mind whirled with a hundred different emotions at once.
“You’ve seen him?” My voice wavered, just slightly, but it was enough.
Victor grinned.
Shit. I had let him see a crack.
“I thought he had five more years?” I forced the strength back into my voice, stamping down the fear. I was so annoyed at myself that I didn’t check more regularly.
Victor’s laugh was cruel, empty. “Keeping up with the good ole family?” His amusement made my skin crawl, the way he toyed with me instead of just asking for whatever the hell he wanted.
“He asked about you.”
