Speak of the goddamn devil.
Satan’s lover, aka Lilith Armstrong, rushes toward us in a flurry of silk and fluff, her hair gathered in a bun, her eyes shooting imaginary lasers at me.
Lilith is Dad’s second wife, but she wasn’t his first girlfriend after Mom. No, she was probably the fifth that he introduced to me. I managed to drive all the others away, but this pest has been impossible to get rid of.
“You should be in bed, Miley!” Satan’s lover yells, attempting to pull my sister from my arm, and I lower her to her feet, breathing harshly to keep calm and not bash the woman’s head in.
Miley’s mother. She’s Miley’s mother. Miley would be crushed.
Stay calm.
Zen down, motherfucker.
My sister stares at her feet. “I wanted to see Preston.”
“You already have. Time for bed.”
“Pressie.” Miley’s lower lip nudges forward in a pout as she looks at me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I pat the top of her head. “I’ll pick you up after school, and we can go downtown, okay?”
“Okay!” Miley’s pout transforms to a wide grin in a fraction of a second.
Lilith grabs her hand and starts dragging her toward the stairs, but then she stops and stares at me, her lips curving in an evil smile. “That game was embarrassing to watch, dear son.”
I flip her off discreetly, so Miley doesn’t see, and she purses her lips as she takes my sister along.
One day, I’ll see that hag burned at the stake.
Or maybe just kicked out so Miley doesn’t suffer.
Listen, I indeed have issues. Yes, Mom taught me to hate whoever Dad brought along, because he was trying to replace us with them, but Lilith is just a bitch.
I was probably nine when she first got to know Dad, andunlike the others, she didn’t seem like a liar. She said she’d be so happy if I could accept her, because she’d always wanted a son.
And Ibelievedthe bitch.
I know, very amateurish on my part. Already murdered young me for all his insolence.
Moving on.
Back then, Satan’s lover made my favorite food and was still nice if Dad wasn’t there. She was so caring and attentive, I thought about how lucky I’d be if I had her after Mom’s death.
In class, I even painted her in a picture with Dad and Mom. I wanted to show it to her, but that’s when I overheard her talking to her best friend on the phone, about three months after I met her.
“The kid? A piece of cake. He was trying to be an asshole at first, but I knew how to deal with him. The little fucker lacks motherly affection, so I just acted the part, and he latched on fast. Men, right? Act a little, and they fall into place. Age doesn’t matter.”
She sipped on her coffee, staring out at the garden. “I’m telling you, Gabby. I’m marrying Lawrence and winning the lottery. No messed-up son of his with mommy issues will stop me. I really hate it when he hugs me. Ugh. He holds on so tight, it’s creepy, and I find it hard to stay in character.”
There was a pause as she listened, then she nodded. “I know, right? He’s really an oddball, this one. Sometimes, he keeps staring like a little psycho. Something’s seriously wrong with his head for real. Anyway, I’ll have him sent to a boarding school and get rid of the nuisance so I can have Lawrence all to myself.”
I just stood there as the mask fell to the floor andshattered, and I saw Lilith for who she truly was—Satan’s lover.
I burned that picture I drew and decided to make her life hell from then on, which I’ve been achieving with flying colors.
Anyway, I turn to leave. Now that Lenin has disappeared, I have no reason to subject myself to Dad’s lecture?—
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You don’t sleep, man?” I mutter when I find Lenin close behind me. I swear the dude moves like a ghost sometimes.
