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Eventually, when I was fifteen, it’s what drove me from my home. My brother’s “visits” were getting more frequent, and he was pushing things further. On top of that, I could see the dark road my father was driving his empire down. No longer satisfied with petty mafia shit like protection rackets, he was dipping a toe into the weapons trade, smuggling drugs, and bringing prostitution under the family business umbrella.
That’s when I ran and never looked back, disappearing before they could turn me into one ofthem, or break me in the process.
I thought I had escaped. Then my father proved how wrong I was.
Two years after I left, he murdered my brother before taking his own life, writing in the note he left behind it was to “save them both” from the horrors that Huntington’s would eventually wreak on them.
So even though the monsters are dead, they’re a constant reminder of the fate that awaits me, one that I’ll never escape.
The phone screams at me again. I groan as I grab it off the bed next to me, frowning at the unknown number on the screen.
Strange. I hacked my own phone years ago and put a perma-block on it, barring any number but those in my contacts from getting through.
So who the fuck is this?
I silence the ringer and let the call go to voicemail before I close my eyes again and turn to snuggle back into bed.
A text notification dings in the temporary silence, shattering it. Grumbling, I snatch the phone up, and instantly freeze at the text on my screen.
Unknown
Perhaps it’s my fault for not laying out the specifics of this arrangement before.
My spine snaps to attention as any last vestige of sleep drops from me.
It’s Mal. It has to be.
Unknown
Don’t blame yourself. I should have been clearer. I’ll correct that now.
Unknown
When I fucking call, you answer. When I tell you to do something, you fucking DO IT, immediately. Do us both a favor. Don’t play stupid. I know, Freya. I know your every dark secret. Every sin.
Unknown
And I know that Kir does NOT know that his favorite adopted goth princess comes from the family that murdered his sister.
My blood turns to ice as I stare at the screen, my throat slowly closing.
Unknown
I fucking OWN YOU.
I’m shaking as I pick up the phone and type a quick reply.
Me
I understand. I was asleep when you called.
The phone is silent for a full minute. Eventually, I stop staring at it and drop it onto the covers, rolling onto my back in bed and looking up at the ceiling.
That’s when it rings.
“How late you sleep in isn’t really my concern.”
I shiver as Mal’s dark, slightly accented voice rumbles like velvet, gravel, and smoke through the phone.
