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PROLOGUE
Cade – Then
“I didn’t do it,” Clara cries, pressing her hands over her chest as she looks at me with those manipulative eyes.
Those eyes then swing to my father and flutter with an innocence that is so far from the truth. Clara is anything but innocent. She can play this family better than even the best and most dangerous men. She has a streak of evil that is going to get her in trouble one day. It doesn’t stop me from being there when she needs me, though. That’s the problem when you’re raised the way I am—you protect your own.
Every now and then, I see the light inside her soul, and it’s what keeps me going strong. When she cries herself to sleep after my father has beaten her, I can’t help but want to protect her. The urge is strong, it’s in my bones, and after we lost our mother, I knew I had to step up. That doesn’t mean I trust her, because she would throw me in front of a bus to save her own life.
That’s the kind of person she is.
Still, she’s my sister, and I have a duty of care toward her.
My father, with his dull green eyes and heavy beer belly, takes a step toward my sister. The alcohol on his breath wafts past, stinging my nose. He’s drunk, and when he’s drunk, he’s abusive. Something I really don’t feel like dealing with right now. “This screams of you, Clara,” he drawls, his voice low and slightly slurred. “How fuckin’ stupid do you think I am?”
“It was Cade.” She shakes her head, putting her hands up. “He was the one who gave it to me.”
Another lie.
Turning the blame onto me means I can take the wrath and she doesn’t have to. It’s my fault, really. I protected her. Every waking moment of our childhood, I would take the blame for everything, because I didn’t want to see her hurt. Now, it has become the new normal, something she no longer feels any guilt about.
Maybe it’s because I can fight back now, or maybe she likes it.
It’s hard to tell.
My sister is on the verge of being a sociopath, I’m almost sure of it.
“That true, boy?”
Turning his piercing glare to me, he twists his big body and takes a step forward, getting in my face. At sixteen, I’m not as big as him, but what I don’t make up for in size, I do in strength. My father is weak, the alcohol and drugs long dragging any power from his body and burying it. He’s big, but he’s weak. That doesn’t mean he can’t make it hurt, though.
We both know he can.
“Doesn’t matter what I say,” I mutter. “You’ll believe her anyway, so get it over with.”
He bares his teeth with rage and curls a hand around my throat, shoving me back until I slam into the kitchen counter. His hot breath makes my stomach turn as he leans in, baring his rotting teeth. “You dare aggravate me, boy?”
“I said,” I grind out, leaning in closer and never breaking eye contact, “get it over with.”
His fist connects with my jaw, sending my head to the side. I don’t make a sound, even though, for a second, my vision blurs. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he has any power over me. Slowly, head pounding, I meet his gaze again. “That all you got?”
Another punch, this one harder, splitting my lip. Blood fills my mouth and trickles down my chin as I spit it onto his face, the red splatters coating his pale grey skin. His eyes widen with shock and rage, and then he reaches beside him for a knife. Then, and only then, does Clara stop him with a pained yell. “Don’t, Daddy, don’t hurt him.”
Hand trembling, my father holds the knife, his body rising and falling with every ragged pant as he fights the urge to plunge that blade into my flesh. I don’t flinch, don’t move, don’t show a single ounce of fear.
“Daddy,” Clara cries again. “Leave him alone.”
Anything for his little angel, he releases me, but not before he hisses out a warning. “She won’t be around to protect you forever, and one day, boy, you’ll open your mouth for the last time.”
Swiping my hand across the back of my mouth, I smirk. “I can’t wait.”
With that, I glance at my sister once more.
Gone is the fear on her face, and back is the blank stare she holds so well. She’ll be the death of me one day, I’m sure of it. She knows I’ll take care of her, but one day, even I’m going to get tired of her games. One day, I’m going to throw her out into this world on her own and she’ll find out very quickly just how far her manipulation won’t get her.
But by then, it will no longer be my problem.
By then, I’ll be free.
