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“You don’t know anything about me,” she snaps, and yanks her hand back. “Or him. Or my other friends.”
Guilt twists inside me, because I suddenly realize that this is a topic that she’s self-conscious about. My expression softens, and I raise my hands in surrender.
“Look, I’m not saying that people don’t like you for you,” I explain. “I’m just saying that Lionel is a selfish asshole who doesn’t deserve to be your friend.”
Cold fury burns in her eyes as she flicks a mocking look up and down my body. “As opposed to you?”
The words hit harder than I want to admit. Because I did actually think that we had started to become friends in a way. But I make sure to keep my expression blank as I just stare back at her.
“I’m just doing my job,” I say tightly.
“No, you’re not!” She throws out her arms again. “You’re being obnoxious and difficult?—”
“As opposed to you?” I throw back in her face.
“You’re ruining my life!” Her chest heaves with rage as she stares up at me. “It’s not my fault that you’re the screw-up of your family who got stuck with babysitting duty while all of your brothers are out doing cool hitman stuff. It’s not my fault that you don’t measure up to the rest of your family. So stop trying to ruin my life too.”
Her words hit me like a knife to the gut.
For a second, all I can do is to stand there and stare down at her while something crumbles inside me.
She jerks back, as if realizing what she just said.
But I don’t care.
I simply turn around and walk towards my bedroom.
“Jace,” Kayla says from behind me, her voice strained. “Wait. I didn’t?—”
The door lets out a soft thud as I shut it completely behind me.
Standing there on the other side of the door, alone, I let the blank mask slip from my face. Raking my fingers through my hair, I tilt my head back and draw in uneven breaths.
Fuck. It feels as if my chest is caving in.
I drag in another breath and walk over to the drawers by the bed. Yanking one open, I grab the bottle of whiskey I’ve kept in there. I haven’t felt the need to drown out my thoughts ever since I started this job, and I know that I shouldn’t drink when I’m technically still on duty, but her words just… hit too close to home.
Slumping down on the floor, I sit with my back against the side of the bed and drink straight from the bottle while staring out the window. Purple and red streaks from the setting sun are reflected in the windows of the building across the street, and the sounds of cars honking echo outside.
I drink from the whiskey bottle again.
Because Eli, Kaden, and Rico are so effortlessly skilled at everything, I’ve grown up always feeling like I have something to prove. That I need to prove that I’m as good as them. It’s the curse of being the youngest sibling.
But it’s more than that.
All of them are completely fine with just continuing on the legacy of the Hunter family and the Morelli family, as if the thought that they could do something else is not even worth considering. And it makes me feel as if there is something wrong with me. Why else would I be the only one who is angry about not having a choice in the matter?
Kayla said that I was the screw-up of the family. That I didn’t measure up to the rest of them.
Pain stabs through my chest.
Because she might be right.
Gripping my shirt right over my heart, I curl my fingers into the soft fabric so hard that my joints ache.
Fuck, what if she is right.
I have always been terrified that my brothers would think that I don’t measure up to them if they ever found out my true feelings about being forced onto this path. And now they know. So is that how they see me now?
