For a fleeting second, regret flickered within me, gnawing at my conscience.
I shoved it away just as swiftly, convincing myself I had made the right choice. Perhaps now, when I recounted the incident to my father, it would spare me from a beating that night.
“What did you do that for?” she exclaimed, her voice tinged with hurt. I wore a smug smile, reveling in the moment.
“Just felt like it.” A laugh escaped me as I glanced at Dante for validation, but Dante’s expression was not one of amusement. Instead, he looked at Amelia with pity.
My nostrils flared. I kicked mud toward her, watching her cringe as she whimpered. Dante was my friend, not hers. I couldn’t bear the thought of him feeling even an ounce of pity for her.
“Hilarious,” she muttered, annoyance lacing her words. She stood, anguish settling in her eyes, and turnedto walk away.
“Yeah, go cry to your druggie mom! Oh wait, she probably won’t care!” I shouted, my voice dripping with malice, relishing the sting of my words.
“That was harsh,” Dante remarked as he began to stride forward.
I shrugged, feigning indifference. “I thought it was funny.”
“Yeah, okay. C’mon, I’ll race you!”
Laughter bubbled up within me as I chased after Dante, the heaviness of guilt momentarily forgotten, replaced by the thrill of our youthfulness.
THE PRESENT
AMELIA
We were nearly a day into the drive, the miles stretching out behind us like an endless path. Caiden and I had managed to avoid conversing, each of us wrapped in our own thoughts.
Sabrina, ever the social butterfly, had offered a convenient excuse to the others: I was shy and needed time to warm up to strangers. It was a simpler explanation than the reality, which lingered between us.
“I was thinking we could spend the first few days just chilling in the spa. Then, maybe we could all go on some adventures in the wilderness!” Sabrina’s voice danced through the car, a constant stream of chatter that filled the awkward void.
Now, she had drifted back to planning activities.
“That sounds good to me,” I replied absently, my gaze fixed on the back of Caiden’s head. The sight of his dark locks, so familiar yet so distant, stirred a sense of dread within me, a creeping sensation that snaked its way under my skin.
He was engaged in conversation with Shane, their words washing over me like distant waves.
“Have you started looking for places to live yet?” Shane asked, his voice steady and curious.
Caiden shrugged, the movement almost rigid. “Sort of. I haven’t found much yet. Been busier with packing.”
Shane's response was immediate, filled with a brotherly warmth. “You can feel free to crash at our place until you get on your feet.”
Caiden shook his head; a stubbornness etched into his features. “No, I couldn’t do that.”
“Don’t be so stubborn, man. We’re family; that’s what family does. We help each other.”
I sensed a bitterness creeping into Caiden’s tone as he replied, “Yeah, well, you got the better life with my mom. I was stuck with the asshole who made my existence a burden.”
In that moment, the anger I had felt toward him faded, replaced by a delicate sorrow. I had forgotten how deeply damaged Caiden was, how cruel his father had been.
He had not had it easy. Neither had I. Yet a small voice whispered within me, reminding me that he didn’t have to take his anger out on me.
“Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to hit a nerve. But you won’t be a burden to us. You’re my half-brother, and I want to help you out,” Shane offered, his tone genuine and concerned.
Caiden sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of resignation. “Yeah, okay. I’ll think about it. Thanks.”
He had always been a man of few words, and I hadn’t expected to witness a heart-to-heart between him and Shane.
