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Madison raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow at me over her mug. “Does someone who thinks of another as a sibling deflower them?”
“Madison!”
She laughs, resting her mug back on the table. “I’m not sorry.”
My cheeks flush, but I giggle. “Also true. You’re good at this.”
“At fixing other people’s problems while my world falls apart? I know.”
My heart squeezes in my chest. I hate it. “I’m an honest person. Brutally so. In fact, I think it makes Brantley want to strangle me most of the time, and I’ve had this discussion with Bishop on more than one occasion.” I run my tongue over my lips and hold my breath. “Why did you run?”
Madison pauses. She whines, running her hands over her face. “I was scared. I’m a runner. I think it has to do with my dad and how I was raised, and the fact Bishop is so erratic. When I found out, I ran. I was scared this baby wasn’t Bishop’s, and scared it was Bishop’s. I didn’t know what to do. So much just went down with some really bad people that I just—I needed…”
“Silence,” I answer for her.
Her eyes meet mine. “Exactly.” She sighs. “I know it’s bad. Bishop taking the gavel, he needs me to be strong. Be Scarlet so he can be Hector.” I flinch at my father’s name. “But I couldn’t offer that to him right now. I needed the clarity.”
“And when you go back?” I ask, digging for answers. “Will you do this to him again?”
A small smile tips the edge of her lips. “Ah, you fit that sister role perfectly.”
“Sorry.” I wince. “It’s just really hard to see you both go through this. He’s so lost.”
“I will never do this again if he takes me back.”
I want to believe her, but I can’t. Not right now, at least.
I wake, my body drenched in sweat with sheets sticking to my limbs. Four a.m. I groan, kicking the sheets off and opening the curtain. The city down below hasn’t slept. There’s a tall skyscraper building a few blocks away from us, with lights around the spaceship style ring near the tip. It’s pretty. So I leave the curtain open and head back to the bed, taking a seat on top of the soft mattress. I can’t remember why I woke, or why I’m this sweaty, since the temperature in the room is cool. A cold shiver slips down the curve of my spine, and I spin around, expecting to see someone behind me, but I’m met with darkness. I massage my temples and let out a light sigh, before turning on my bedside light.
It doesn’t work.
I lean back in my bed and bring my phone with me, opening up Instagram. I scroll past Tillie and Nate’s latest photo. Nate’s tattooed hands covering Tillie’s little bump. It’s in black and white with one of Nate’s hands flipping the camera off. The caption reads: You called him daddy, so I made him one. A chuckle gets caught in my throat, and I shake my head. Give it to Tillie to be so passive-aggressive. I don’t know how they got together or the troubles they went through to get there, but I couldn’t imagine it. It had to be chaos. They’re both so intense. I scroll down and fall on Bishop’s photo of Eli. He’s sitting on a sofa, looking at the camera with a dead expression. Free to good home.
Eli commented below it. @elirebel: Only so I can make it bad.
I blow out a breath of air. I haven’t posted on Instagram since our selfie, which I ended up deleting right after anyway, and I’m not sure I really want to. I flip the camera to selfie mode, roll onto my belly, and fluff my long hair to one side. Resting my face in the palm of my hand, I roll my eyes to the back of my head and stick my tongue out one side. With the flash, it turned out okay. I scroll over the filters, but don’t seem that fussed by them, so I leave it natural. I type out the caption: Witching hour. Can’t sleep.
I push post and then find my profile. I pause. I had four followers last time I checked, and that was Tillie, Bishop, Nate, and Eli. Not even Brantley. Now it reads 12.4k Following 5 because I followed him. I don’t care. A red dot lights up over the heart and I click on it, as likes roll in for the photo I posted.
@jrolley this is Brantley’s girl? Pretty.
@hijakr omg
@minnieg of course she looks like this. She’s Bishop’s sister.
@kiolad OH. MY GOD SHE POSTED
@daffidi obsessed with you SAINT! Can we be friends?
@giafro lol @daffidi no. You couldn’t. Remember, they don’t associate with us lesser folk.
@vienna THE ELITE
I stop reading when it becomes too much. “What the hell?” My phone rings in my hand and I scream, tossing it onto the bed. Picking it back up again, with my heart pounding in my chest, I relax when I see Brantley’s name flashing over the screen.
