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I never for one second missed Nate. He was dead to me, and I didn’t mourn him. I had no feelings about it whatsoever. I didn’t use to have feelings about much anyway. I know Ozy did. She was eaten by guilt, she missed her older brother no matter what he did to us. She hides it, but she’s sentimental like that, has too much empathy for the people who spent their lives mistreating her.
I run a hand over my face. There’s no point being sad about it all. We’re back into it now. Nate wanted to be our legal guardian, he got it. Bianco wanted us back in his life, he got it. Now we just roll with it. We learned a long time ago that fighting back only makes it worse.
I get in the shower and put pajama bottoms on before going down. There’s one thing I hate in the morning, and that’s tops. I can’t stand material on my back when I just woke up. I get too hot.
My stomach rumbles as I walk down the double stairs. My eyes are focused on the group chat between Chris, Luke, Rose, and me. Luke and my stupid sister had a lot of fun sending hundreds of gifs last night because their lives are boring like that. I have to look up mid-step when I hear voices downstairs. One voice in particular.
My heart takes a plunge into my stomach and my brain is automatically on high alert. Cold sweat running down my neck, down my back, hands slightly trembling. The automatic response one’s body gets when they’re faced with an old abuser. Reflexes never go away, survival instinct never leaves your body.
Bianco is standing in the grand foyer, hands in his charcoal suit, steel eyes, sharp gaze aimed directly at Sam. I can’t hear what Sam replies to him or see his facial expression, I can only see his tensed shoulders and back, tight around his black tee.
I’m secretly hoping I can run back upstairs without any of them noticing me, but my wish is short-lived when Bianco’s gaze shifts to me.
“Jake,” his smooth voice is already announcing manipulation. “Enjoying your return, boy?”
“Hmph,” I rumble. I turn back around to go upstairs. I don’thaveto talk to him. I don’t owe him shit. Being back in his world, I constantly feel like he’s my guardian again. Back to being a kid. I’m not. Nate is my guardian, and I don’t have to stay around when Bianco is here.
Right now, I want to go back upstairs and tell Ozy to stay locked in her room. And so I will.
“Not so fast,” Bianco cuts my plan short. I’m a hundred percent sure he’s going to want to talk about me seeing Jamie last night. We were surrounded by NSC guys and girls, I know he has tons of eyes and ears there. I also know if we talk about it, he’s going to want to punish me somehow and I don’t exactly want to know what he’s got in mind.
Next to him, Sam is standing as still as a pole. His eyes are on me. His mind is somewhere else.
“Sam and I have to go on a trip tomorrow. I want to have dinner all together tonight. As a family. Just like old times.”
My heart is beating too hard in my ears for me to hear myself think.
I need an excuse.
Think. Think. Think.
Anything, Jake!
“Rose and I aren’t here tonight. We have a thing with friends. It’s far from here, we can’t cancel.”
Bianco chuckles the way only he does. That humiliating chuckle that warns you to listen.
“It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a request. See you tonight.Allof you.”
And just like that, he’s gone.
My body is shaking from adrenaline as Sam and I cross gazes. It’s almost impossible to read the fucker’s mind but right now I think I’d be pretty close if I said he was worried about tonight. Just like me. Because Sam doesn’t care about hanging around Bianco. He doesn’t like it – he doesn’t likeanyone’scompany – but it doesn’t scare him. However, if his precious girl has to be around his boss, it becomes a real fucking problem for him.
“Ozy, hurry the fuck up,” Nate screams toward the stairs as we both put our coats on. She comes down the stairs ever so slowly, Sam walking behind her. “Come on, we’ve still got to drive to D.C.”
Rose’s hair is tied up in a tight, high ponytail and I don’t control my teeth when they start grinding. Once Sam and Nate are out of the door, I grab her arm, gently holding her back.
“You don’t have to do this to your hair, Ozy. Nothing’ll happen if you don’t, I promise.”
She looks at me with that spark of sassiness she always has in her eyes when she doesn’t take what I’m saying seriously.
“Don’t look so worried over a hairstyle, Jake. If it doesn’t suit methatbad just say I’m ugly,” she chuckles.
“I know you’re doing it to make him happy. It’s okay to be scared, but you don’t have to be.”
She huffs loudly, emphasizing that she’s not happy with the serious conversation. “Small efforts cost nothing, Jake. Mistakes cost lives.”
And then she’s out the door, leaving me wondering when she became so wise.
