No word on Mom and Dad.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ariana
“It’sfive thirty in the fucking morning, Ari!”
The lights turn on as I’m pulling off my heel.
I let out a small scream, stumbling forward. There’s my brother, standing next to the dining room table like a fucking serial killer, arms crossed in front of his chest. His eyes are red and tired, armed with dark circles underneath. The judgment that laces his expression is abundantly clear.
“Dear god,” I seethe, tearing off my other shoe. “Don’t you have anything better to do, Bundy?”
“Then wait up for my sister to come crawling in from wherever the fuck she’s been all night? No, actually. I don’t. I wish I did.” He’s glaring at me in a way he never does. To other people? Sure. But never me.
“Am I bound to this house or something?” I ask, tearing my bag off my shoulder and dropping it onto the entryway table.
“No, but you don’t know anyone in this city besides me and the girl who is fast asleep down the hall,” he reminds me. He has a point. “So, where the fuck have you been? Where do you keep going? I am getting sick of this, if you hadn’t realized that part yet.”
Oh, I’ve realized that part.
“Then mind your own business and we’ll both be much happier.”
It is very clear by the way his eyes darken that he does not like that answer.
“If you want to stay here, you’re either going to turn your location on or tell me what you’re doing. It’s been weeks of this shit, Ari. I’m exhausted. I’m worried about you. I almost followed you out tonight, but Arden wouldn’t let me.”
Oh, please.
“You’re crazy,” I say with a humourless laugh. Because he is. He’s acting like he is. I’m not roaming the streets each and every night, spending the night in prison cells, or doing drugs. Having a little bit of fun is not a crime. He needs to remember that he’s the criminal in the family. I’m just the cute little sister.
“Location or explanation,” he snaps, eyes burning into me. “Or find somewhere else to stay.”
I narrow my eyes. Oh, now we’re playing dirty and making threats?
“You know that I have nowhere else to go.” Unless I go home, which isn’t happening.
“Seems like quite a fucking predicament.”
I doubt he’d actually kick me out. He’s Carter. He doesn’t let me take rideshares unless I send him a screenshot of a picture of the driver and their car details. I still do, obviously, because he can’t monitor my every move. He’s overprotective and terrified of the world hurting me. There is no way he’ll toss me to the curb.
Luckily for him, I’m tired and tipsy, and I want this argument to end.
“Don’t laugh at me.”
This grabs his attention. He cocks a brow, perching his butt on the edge of the table. “Alright.”
“I joined a boozy book club.”
His brows skyrocket. “What?”
“I joined a book club. We read books and we drink cocktails. Sometimes, we’re having so much fun that we keep the night going. We go to a few bars, dance a bit, and have some more drinks.That’swhere I’ve been, Carter. Is that okay with you?”
He stares at me for a long second. “What was the book about?”
I stare right back. “What?”
“Actually, what was the book about andhowdid you find this book club?”
