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But I should know better than that. Parker's always been weirdly fucking possessive of our stepsister. From the moment I told him about the plan, he made it clear he wanted to be the one to have June. And now, he's painted me as the goddamn villain. Even though I'd already discarded the plan in my head, I'm the one who looks like the piece of shit in this scenario.
Even though Parker's the one who tried to go through with it. But June won't believe me.
June... The memory of her hair fanning over my pillow almost stops me in my tracks. But I gotta keep walking. It's cold, and I'm gonna freeze to death if I stop here.
As I continue walking, I think of all the things about June that make her so special. Different. Her scent. The way she walks, the way she smiles. It's almost as if—
"Miller?"
I raise my eyes, knitting my brows together when I see an unfamiliar figure before me. He looks like he's in his early twenties, younger than me though.
"Yeah?" I ask, trying to figure out where I know the kid from.
"You're Miller? Parker Miller?"
"No, well, yes but—" Before I can finish my sentence, he punches me right in the goddamn face. My lip splits. Blood spurts forward, coloring the guy's white shirt in stains. "What the fuck, man?"
"That's for what you did to my sister," he snarls, hitting me again. This time, he gets me in the eye, and I groan. Fuck me, what a perfect goddamn ending to my evening.
Before I can defend myself, the guy's sprinted off into the car that's waiting for him on the curb. The pain of the two punches he threw is fucking overwhelming. I sit down on the curb and groan, cradling my head in my arms. I'm bleeding all over. I must look like a goddamn mess.
What the hell was that all about? I ask myself. That guy thought I was Parker. But what did Parker do to the man to piss him off this much?
It's a lost cause. I could spend all night wondering how my asshole of a brother pissed off some guy I don't know—the possibilities are endless, and Parker's kind of a jerk. I'm sure the guy had reason enough to fucking smash my face in. Maybe this is all karma paying me back for what I've done to June. As if I'm not defeated enough already.
I force myself to get up again and keep walking. It must be forty-five minutes later when I finally find a cab and manage to hail it. The driver winces at the sight of me, asking, "Rough night?"
I don't bother with an answer, instead just grunting my address and getting in the back of the yellow vehicle. At least the driver has the common sense to stay quiet for the entire ride home.
As I let myself into my apartment, I notice some of Parker's shit is missing. The video game controller. The fucking TV. The piece of shit even took the water heater, probably just to fuck with me. With a groan, I collapse on the couch, throwing my keys on the coffee table.
I guess he's well and truly gone now. He hasn't come back to our apartment in weeks, but now he's taken his shit out of here, too. He ain't coming back.
I wonder whether he's staying with June now. The thought alone is so fucking infuriating I grit my teeth together in anger. She's not safe with him. I know my brother better than anyone, and I know he can be real fucking dangerous. But there's nothing I can do about it now—it's not as if I can just waltz into our old home and convince my stepsister not to believe a word out of my twin's mouth.
June's on her own now.
I just hope she's clever enough not to fall for Parker's lies.20JuneParker and I are stuck in the house.
We don’t go out. Not even to grab lunch or see a movie. We just stay inside, ordering takeout, playing video games, pretending everything’s okay, and this is our own little haven amid all the madness. One morning, I get ready and purposely wait until midday, which is when Parker drags himself down the stairs and sits down to eat, his eyes bleary.
“Why are you so dressed up?” he asks with his mouth full of Lucky Charms.
“I’m going to work,” I say with a purpose, and give him a smile that is way stronger than my will to actually do something. “I haven’t been to the office in weeks. It’s time.”
Parker just stares at me as he chews his food, and finally, he sets his spoon down. “I wish I could go somewhere, too.”
His words surprise me.
“But you can paint,” I mention tentatively. Parker’s always been artistic, and he’s been painting and drawing for as long as I’ve known him. He’s quite secretive about his art, but he's incredibly talented from what I’ve seen.
