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The little bitch is the first one I spot, and his eyes meet mine, a sick, satisfied gleam staring back as he sits beside my dad as if it’s where he belongs.
Maybe it is. On the inside they’re one and the same. Both as fucked up and manipulative as the other.
“Nico,” my father says, pushing off his place against the wall.
I step farther into the room giving him nothing but a blank stare.
“Don’t be rude, son.” He’s gotten good at acting, his smile comes off generous, but his eyes are as vicious as always. He sweeps his hand out and says, “We have guests.”
Right as he says it, a little hand with pink polished nails folds over the edge of the high-backed chair facing away from me.
Inch by inch, long, dark blonde hair from scalp to tip appears, a frame I’d recognize anywhere that has no place in this living room.
My feet grow numb yet heavy, my body swaying in place as my lungs squeeze in my chest, blocking my airway.
Time fucking slows, my veins running cold when slowly, her head turns, those green eyes needing no directing, but landing right on mine.
I’ve never witnessed such an array of emotions flash across a person’s face and so quickly.
Anger, disappointment, discomfort.
Sadness.
Confusion.
Concern.
Fear?
What are you afraid of, baby?
I want to step toward her, but I’m rooted in place, fucking frozen.
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” she says, her tone cool and collected when she’s anything but.
My eyes move between hers, a sharp ache puncturing between my ribs, a pain so strong I have to look away, my glare settling on the asshole she’s referring to. “I don’t.”
Alex smirks, and I force myself to glance back to Demi.
Her face contorts, but she doesn’t say a word, and in the next second, her mom is standing beside her.
My eyes cut to my dad. “What is this?”
“I called Ms. Davenport and asked her family to join mine for dinner.”
In my peripheral, I see Demi’s head jerk toward her mom.
My dad continues, “We were just discussing formal next week, and the possibility of Alex being Demi’s date.”
Anger pulls at my every muscle, and my eyes fly to her.
She slowly shakes her head, looking from my dad to me. “That’s not—”
She cuts off when her mom grips her by the arm.
Demi pulls her foot back the half a step forward she had started to take.
“Oh, honey, don’t be silly.” Her mother tugs her closer, an undertone to her words that can only be interpreted as a warning.
My pulse spikes, but I force myself to stay put, keep fucking calm because the last thing I’m about to do is give anyone in this room the satisfaction of witnessing my anxiety.
Demi, though, she surprises me when she tugs free from her mom and steps away. Despite how pissed off and confused she is right now, my baby attempts to clear the air. “I’m not sure what my mom told you, Mr. Sykes, but I think there’s been some confusion.”
“Are you not dating my son?” He cocks his head to the side mockingly.
“Yes. Your son, not your stepson.” She cuts a quick glance my way, uncertainty in her eyes but confidence in her words. “I’m with Nico.”
My dad isn’t deterred. “Is Nikoli taking you to the dance, Demi?” he asks her.
She hesitates, her eyes snapping toward mine.
Is that not an obvious answer?
She keeps her focus on me as he adds, “Has he so much as mentioned it, let alone asked you himself?”
Doubt creeps over her and my throat begins to itch.
I glance across the room, from my dad’s silent, porcelain wife to Demi’s carbon copy mother. From Alex to my dad, my eyes settling on Demi last.
“Nico and I are going together.” Her answer is straightforward, but it kills me to hear it.
She had to be careful with her words, not let on that, no, I haven’t mentioned it, and no we haven’t spoken of it at all.
I know what she’s thinking.
Am I really going to stand here and not say a word? Not confirm I’m hers and she’s mine, allow Alex to think she’s free game when she’s anything but.
Why the fuck am I playing statue?
Why haven’t I grabbed her and drug her from this toxic place already?
Maybe I want to test her when I have no right to, maybe the pressure of being in my dad’s house with his new wife and chosen son is too much, or perhaps it’s that her mother so quickly disregarded my being what her daughter wants when she realized Alex fucking Hammons, my unclaimed, bitch of a stepbrother wanted her, too.
Whatever the reason, I say nothing at all, forcing an emotionless expression when all I really want to do is fall at her feet and erase the hurt in her eyes.
Alex, though, he opens his mouth.
