She lets out a puff of breath, like she’s thinking hard. “You know, I’m not sure.”
“It’s behind your back,” I deadpan.
“Oh…right.” Lily steps forward and offers the comic to me. Before I even read the title, I notice the large creases and wrinkled pages. We really did fuck on it. Jesus.
And then I skim the title: Uncanny X-Men. The latest edition. The one I haven’t read yet. Irritation flares for a second, but it’s gone before I can even bottle it.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, her eyes big and round. “I’ll buy you a new one.”
The smallest slights usually grate on me enough to open a bottle of Macallan. Not today. “It’s fine, Lil. It’s just a comic book.” I can always buy another.
The surprise in her face almost makes me smile.
I step forward to wrap her in my arms, but our bedroom door opens abruptly, no knock, no warning. I expect Ryke to come barging in. For our secret to catch up to us.
But it’s so much fucking worse.
Scott Van Wright stands in the doorway, chest pumping with livid intensity. He clutches a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. I try not to concentrate on it.
“Get the fuck out of our room,” I sneer, my veins turning to liquid fire. I block Lily’s body from view. I’m used to our siblings invading our privacy, but not this guy. That’s something that I will never be okay with.
Instead of leaving, he shuts the door closed with a loud thunk. “We need to talk.” No humor in his voice. He pulls his cell out of his pocket, and his dirty blond eyebrows rise like you know what I’m talking about.
Oh yeah.
My lips curve in a bitter smile. “Sure. Talk all you want. I’ll listen.” I mockingly wave him on. Lily plops down on the edge of the bed, a pillow pressed to her lap.
“You deleted all of my contacts.”
“Did I?” I feign confusion. “I don’t remember picking up your phone.” I scratch my head. “But now that I think about it…I may have touched it once. With gloves. I was scared of catching whatever disease you have that turns you into such a fucking prick.”
“Loren, I had contacts stored from executives that I can’t get back without making a billion phone calls of numbers that I now don’t have. You see the problem here?”
“Yep,” I say. “Sounds like a real fucking problem. Sucks for you, man.” I shrug.
“I’m not acting,” Scott snarls. “There aren’t cameras rigged in here. This is serious.”
I glare. “As serious as you approaching my girlfriend every goddamn day and calling her a slut?” I take a step towards him. “You’ve been making our lives miserable for the past three months. And you just walk around here—smiling.” Another step closer. “You think I’m the weakest person in the house, so you’ve been going after me and Lily. But get this straight, Scott. I’m the last person you wanted to fuck over. You try to pull my arms like I’m a fucking marionette, and I’ll yank yours out of the socket.”
His nose flares.
And before he has a chance to say a word, I ask, “So how’s texting going for you? Has it sucked?” I reprogrammed his auto-correct. Every time he types in yes, it reformats to say cocksucker. No is now blow me. And the phrase, I’m on my way is retranslated to I want to smell your asshole. It’s as unpoetic as I could get. And I fucked with probably fifty common phrases and words.
His skin reddens the longer he fumes. “The cat shit was you too?” The litter box was in the laundry room. Decided to give him a surprise in his expensive loafers.
“That was Sadie,” I say. “Congratulations, you’re the first guy she’s ever hated.” I clap, watching his face morph into pure rage. Good. He looks how I’ve felt.
He closes the gap between us quickly, and I drop my hands.
I threaten, “You make our lives hell; I make yours hell. That’s how this works, Scott. You leave me alone, we have no problems. Your choice.”
Scott tries to break me by simply staring into my goddamn eyes. That’s not going to work. I’ve stared down Jonathan Hale many times before—Scott is sweet in comparison.
“Did you come here to cry?” I ask him. I could have easily accepted my father’s help and fucked over his life, emptied his bank account, totaled his car. What I did was small but still significant—or else he wouldn’t be so upset.
“Fine,” he finally says. His eyes flicker to Lily, but I sidestep so he can’t see her. “I’ll play nice from now on.” He slips his cell in his pocket and then he shoves the bagged bottle in my chest. “Cheers.”