I clench my teeth so hard they hurt, and I don’t care about the mess on my thighs or the fact someone could still walk in at any moment and it might look bad.
All I care about is Faust andher.
She might not fully belong to me yet, but she seemed to draw closer after Faust’s test, not further away. And if she’s still here after this, what does that say about all of us?
FIFTY-ONE
NEVE
“Don’t you need to, I don’t know, actually go into work?” I pull a jug of apple juice from the fridge after a quick glance at Nolan, perched on my couch with a notebook between his long fingers. His laptop is on the coffee table, and he’s dressed in a beige sweater and brown pants, glasses pushed up past his short, dirty blond hair. Helookslike an attorney, and he’s dressed as if for meetings, but he’s certainly not acting like a high-profile lawyer.
And he hasn’t been for the past three weeks.
Because he’s been here. Sleeping on my couch, invading mine and Cynthia’s space. Even my bookshelves are starting to glare at him, and Casper asked if the “gentleman upstairs was a permanent feature.”
Nolan has never stayed here before. He’s dropped by Darkmouth a handful of times, but he typically prefers five-star hotels in Drayton proper.
Turns out, I like him better when he’s away. He’s been surly, snappy, and overprotective isn’t the half of it.
I promised Cyn I’d have him out by the weekend. But it’s Thursday now and things don’t look promising. His large,brown leather duffel is still gathering dust by the black Jung shelf between the skull-gilded mirrors, and he’s not mentioned driving back to New York in his rental truck anytime soon.
Nolan is and always has been neat and organized, and he’s a good cook, too. So there have been perks to him being around, and Cyn has been spending most of her time at Tylone’s, but I know this can’t be comfortable for her, no matter how polite she’s been about it. The fact I’ve paid for Darkmouth doesn’t mean shit to me either; when we moved in here at the start of fall semester, I promised her this place was as much hers as mine, period.
Besides, it’s not comfortable forme.I see Faust and Sylvan as often as their practice and my schedule allows but bringing them back here isn’t an option with Nolan all in my business and staying away for the night doesn’t seem to be in the cards either. Anytime I suggest I might, Nolan guilt trips me.
I’m annoyed but trying to be empathetic.
He came because of the murders. Four on the campus his little sister attendsisa lot, and I do understand that. It’s scary too because there are no suspects. Shockingly, Detective Lincoln hasn’t called me in anymore, neither has he requested to speak to the boys, as far as I know. Considering Sylvan and I seemed to be some of the last people to see Ace alive, there must be some other person of interest they’re not yet naming. I certainly haven’t told anyone about Ace calling my name in the castle, and I’ve rationalized that I don’t need to. He died on campus, not at Haunt Night. Still, thinking of it freaks me out. No funeral yet for him either, and I wonder if his body is still evidence.
“I can do everything remotely now, for the most part.” Nolan doesn’t take the hint as he answers my question about needing to go into work. He yawns, stretching his hands high overhead, his sweater riding up a little to show his abs. He’s always been religious about fitness and nutrition.
Fanatical might be a better word.
“Cruel” or “punishing” could work, too.
“Do you really need all that?”He asked it so innocently growing up when I put a lot of food on my plate, or if I went to grab ice cream from the freezer. I assumed it was his way of keeping me healthy. Now, as I stare at the glass of juice I poured and realize I’m going to throw it all down the drain, I know he was part of what fucked me up.
The bitterness of the thought creeps up my throat and I set down the glass, nudge the fridge closed with my hip, and cross my arms. I’m in a black, long sleeve PJ set, and it’s gorgeous and comfortable, but I’m so covered up not because it’s freezing outside—it’s always warm in the bookstore and my apartment—but because my brother is here and I feel as if I can’t relax with him camping out in my fucking living room.
I lean against the counter and stare out at him.
“I won’t be home tonight.” I say it firmly, not as if I’m asking for permission. Every time I’ve left lately, even for classes, I felt as if I had to apologize for my absence even though this ismylife he’s intruding on.
He turns sharply to me, and mirrors my posture, his arms folded over his chest as he narrows his eyes. “Why not?” His tone is soft, but I’ve heard him use that same voice to absolutely eviscerate a junior associate over the phone.
“I’m going out.” I purposefully keep my answer vague. He knows I’m dating, but he doesn’t know who. And he doesn’t know there are two of them. I’ve barely gotten to speak to Cyn about it either, and she’s the person I feel most comfortable telling.
Nolan smiles, but it’s his fake lawyer smile. The one he uses to suck up to a judge or a client he’s failing. “You’ve been out before,” he says slowly. “Do you mean you’ll be home late, or not at all?” There’s something in his voice that I’ve never noticedbefore. Maybe it wasn’t there. Or maybe I never psychoanalyzed him because he’s my brother.
Maybe I thought he was safe.
And now that I’m caught up deep with two boys I truly know are safe—at least, for me—I can actually see through him. All that training, all that knowledge, and yet it never let me see these microbehaviors that don’t make sense to me now.
“Not at all.” My body is tense, like I need to run. Is it true fear I feel? Is this worse than when Sylvan broke Will’s nose?
There’s something different in the air. A piece of the puzzle shifting between us.
This is mybrother.I remind myself like it makes a difference.
