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My father, though?
I kept waiting for him to reveal a better side of himself, but instead, he showed me over and over again the lengths he would go to for his own benefit.
It made me sick to think about how much of the wealth and privilege I’d grown up with had probably been acquired by someone else’s downfall. That seemed to be my father’s usual method of operation.
The dinner hour came and went, and even though I’d planned to sneak down for food later in the evening, I had completely lost my appetite. At a little after nine, I threw on a soft nightgown and brushed my teeth, then crawled into bed, eager for sleep to claim me.
It did, and quickly.
My whirling thoughts slowed as the pain in my chest settled into a dull, throbbing ache, and my eyelids drifted closed.
When they flew open several hours later, I wasn’t sure what had woken me until I heard the sound of my phone ringing again. I rolled toward the nightstand and snatched it up, blinking blearily at the screen. The time read 12:02, and the caller ID read Bishop.
A little jolt of adrenaline ran through me as happiness that he was calling mixed with worry.
Why he is calling so late? Did something happen?
I swiped to answer quickly, bringing the phone to my ear. My parents were in an entirely different wing of the house, so I knew they wouldn’t hear me, but I kept my voice low anyway.
“Bishop? Is everything okay? What’s going on?”
“Happy birthday, Coralee.”
His smooth drawl cut through my fear like a knife, and I blinked into the darkness. “What?”
“Well, it’s your birthday today, isn’t it?”
“Y-yes. Just for the past few minutes, yeah.”
“What kind of boyfriends would we be if we didn’t call to wish you a happy birthday?”
Something so sweet I could hardly bear it spread through my chest, and I closed my eyes, dragging in a deep breath.
“We miss you, Cora,” Misael said softly, and I realized Bish must’ve put me on speaker phone.
“So fucking much,” Kace added, and the strain in his voice told me more than his words ever could.
They missed me the same way I missed them. With a deep, aching hunger, a need that would never be satisfied by anything else.
“I miss you guys too,” I whispered, not even trying to hide the naked emotion in my voice.
I had been dreading my eighteenth birthday. In my mind, all it did was bring me one step closer to becoming a married woman, and I’d had no desire to celebrate it. But the fact that the Lost Boys had remembered, that they’d called just a few minutes after midnight because they couldn’t even wait until tomorrow to wish me a happy birthday—it made a smile curve my lips even as tears pricked my eyes.
They cared for me.
And they didn’t just tell me that, like my father and mother did. Like so many of my friends did.
They showed me. Over and over, in big ways and little ones, they showed me how much they cared.
“I wish you were here.”
“We wish we were too, Princess,” Misael said quietly. “But we didn’t want to risk it again after last time. We don’t want to get you in more trouble. If you want us to though, we’ll be over in—”
“No!” I almost sat up, then settled back down, still clutching the phone to my ear. “No. Don’t. I don’t want to risk you getting caught. I just… I just wish I could see you, is all.”
My voice broke on the words, and I could hear each of them react with a low noise. I could imagine them all sitting on Bishop’s couch as he held the phone out, could picture them all leaning toward it slightly as if that might somehow bring them closer to me.
For a moment, there was silence on the line. It felt heavy, full of all the things none of us were saying. All of our fears, our worries. Our pain at being separated.
