Page 32 of Thin Lines (Donati Bloodlines 2)

“Hey, I wasn’t avoiding—”

Cynthia shot him a burning glare. “Yes, you were. Youdon’t like Daddy, Cal. I’m not fucking blind.”

“Your mouth has gotten worse, I see.”

Calisto wondered who his cousin had been spending timewith for her mouth to be so damn dirty. He figured that was another thing hehad to own. He had no one to blame but himself for not knowing what was goingon in Cynthia’s and Michelle’s personal lives.

“Saying you’re sorry is just another excuse,” Cynthiatold him.

Calisto sighed. “You’re right.”

“And do you want to know what’s worse?”

“What?”

Cynthia stopped walking, and let her arms fall to hersides. Calisto stopped beside her, letting the teenager work through whateverit was she had going on in her head. At least if she took it out on him, shewas unlikely to go at her father with it. Affonso wouldn’t stand for that, andwhile he never laid a hand on his daughters, he wasn’t above making their livesmiserable to punish them.

Wasn’t being sent away from home for the majority ofthe year miserable enough?

“What’s worse,” Cynthia said quietly, “is that youcan’t even make this up to me like you used to do.”

Calisto shoved his hands in his pockets. “Sure I can.”

“No. I’m graduating at the end of this year. Then, I’moff to college. But if I get my way, it won’t be a college in this state. Daddywill be so busy with the new baby that he won’t give a single fuck about me orMichelle, especially if he finally gets the son he’s always wanted. He’llprobably be happy to let me choose whatever college I want, no matter where itis.”

Cynthia’s tone was sharp enough to cut steel.

It damn well cut through Calisto.

“So, yeah,” she said with a flick of her wrist atCalisto. “You can’t make this up to me. I won’t be around for you to do it.”

She was right.

Calisto’s guilt climbed higher, shaking hisfoundation. He’d always made a conscious effort to spend time with his cousins,and to be there for them in case they needed him. It wasn’t like they had thatin their father.

Jesus.

He was no better than Affonso.

“I’m sorry,” Calisto repeated.

Cynthia shrugged, but wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Whatdifference does it make?”

Sadly, she was right again.

“Cynthia, make sure you have everything you need fortomorrow,” Affonso said as he took the steps two at a time. He fixed thecufflinks on his suit, and then glared at his watch. “Fucking woman. I am latealready. Did you hear what I said, Cynthia?”

Calisto watched as his cousin walked on past Affonsoon the staircase without a word. She ignored her father, and quickened hersteps.

“Cynthia!”

“She’s pissed at me, zio,” Calisto said.

Affonso blew out a heavy breath, glowering over hisshoulder. “Women are God’s way of punishing men. Boys are a far easier creatureto raise, let me say.”

Calisto didn’t think his uncle was only talking abouthis daughters being troublesome to him. Usually, Emma would join Affonso as hecame downstairs in the morning, but sometimes she came down right after him,too. She wasn’t anywhere in sight right then.

“Why is she mad at you?” Affonso asked. “What did youdo?”