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Sloan isn’t being openly hostile, more just prodding and annoying—but either way, it’s setting me off, and I don’t want to deal with it.
“Why does it matter to you what I did? I was here all day, just like I was supposed to be,” I fire back, hoping the edge to my tone isn’t as sharp as I think it is.
“You’re right. It doesn’t matter, I guess.”
Great. So fucking helpful. Typical Sloan, trying to rile me up and then pretending like he couldn’t care less.
I can feel myself getting angrier, the rage that’s been building up in me since I watched my dad die coming up to rear its head once more. It’s not as bad as when Rory came down and found me working out, because my emotions don’t feel like they’ve been built up like they were when I was in the gym. But it’s still hard.
“Great,” I mutter. “Glad we’re on the same page here.”
There’s a beat where he doesn’t say anything in response, and I try to go back to contemplating dinner options, even if I’m getting less hungry by the minute. But I have to play it cool, and that means eating at regular times and not letting them know something is wrong. Rory’s already been worried about me once today, I don’t need Levi joining in because he notices I’m not eating or something.
I don’t think Sloan would care either way, except for maybe bringing it up because he wants to pick a fight or something.
“What are you even looking for?” he asks, and I tense even more. Case in fucking point.
I don’t even know what the answer to that is. I was hungry when I came down here, but now my stomach is just burning with anger and hatred.
How dare he just stand there like he hasn’t done anything? Acting normal like he didn’t kill my dad in cold blood when he came to Sloan for help? I grit my teeth and clench my fingers around the handle of the fridge, not sure if it’s better to ignore him or tell him to fuck off.
“I don’t know yet,” I say, managing to sound mostly civil. It doesn’t help that Sloan has always been pretty standoffish around me, questioning the things I do and treating me like I’m a dumb kid instead of a grown-ass woman.
It’s been more of the same since he killed my dad, and I can’t tell if that’s just a continuation of how things have always been, or if he’s just waiting for his chance to get me too. Before, I was usually able to ignore him or shut him down with a sarcastic comment, but now I’m being standoffish right back, even if I’m trying not to be.
I can’t remember what normal is anymore, and it’s making everything harder.
“Well, fuck. Don’t just stand there with the door open.” Sloan grunts, sounding annoyed. “You’re letting the cold air out.”
“Who are you, my mother?” I snap before I can think better of it. I slam the fridge door closed and move away from it, glaring at him.
He lifts an eyebrow and looks right back at me, an assessing look in his steel-gray eyes. “No, but I’m one of the people who pays the bills for this house.”
I roll my eyes, my jaw clenching so hard my teeth hurt. “I’ll give you the fifty fucking cents if it’ll make you feel better.”
“It won’t,” he says coolly, taking a bite of his sandwich. “If you want something to eat, just make something.”
“I was going to!” I insist, my hands curling into fists.
Jesus fucking Christ. This is such a stupid fucking thing to be bickering about, and once again, I can’t tell if this is the normal level of hostility and fuck-off attitude that he usually has, or if this is something different.
It feels bizarre, and a bit like I’m losing my mind, standing here trying to work out why we’re arguing about cold air in the fridge of all things. I want to throw something at him, but before we can get too much further into this argument or make things any fucking weirder, Levi comes in.
He looks between the two of us for a second, and Sloan rolls his eyes and goes back to eating, clearly done with me for the moment.
Levi sighs and then looks at me, running a hand through his dark brown hair. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
I nod, grateful to have an excuse to leave the kitchen. Maybe when I go back in to find something to eat, Sloan will have fucked off back to his room or wherever he goes when he’s not murdering people or getting in my face.
Levi leads me into the living room, and I follow, going to sit down on the couch. It’s far enough away from the kitchen that Sloan would have to either come to the door or work hard to overhear us from the kitchen, and judging from the sounds upstairs, Rory has music on in his room.
“So,” Levi says, sinking down beside me and turning a little to face me more fully. “I talked to Gavin, like I told you I would. I asked him if there was any chance of letting your dad out of his deal, or if there was anything we could do, but… he said no.”
I perk up at the mention of Sloan’s dad, the head of the Black Roses and the man who insisted my dad make up for not throwing a fight like he was supposed to by doing them a “favor” in return.
After my dad called me, sounding scared and agitated, I freaked out. Levi promised he would see if there was anything that could be done. It feels like it was forever ago that I asked, and it’s crazy to think it’s been less than a week.
My heart drops when he finishes, though. It’s nice of him to follow through on his promise, but it’s definitely too late to save my dad. Even if Gavin had said yes, it wouldn’t mean anything. Still, it pisses me off that the leader of the Black Roses said no in the first place. What was so important that my dad was doing that he couldn’t be let out of the deal? That he couldn’t pay off his supposed debt in some other way.
