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C’mon, Dad, just tell me where Earl is!
"Yeah, I know. You were totally right about that," I continue, trying not to sound impatient. "So, have you seen him?"
"Well, last time I checked he was in his study, going over some financials. But I don’t know if --"
"Thanks, Dad!" I tell him, feigning joy and failing miserably, and then I keep on hurrying down the stairs without giving my father the chance to keep on speaking. He’d probably go on a tangent about the importance of a family, and right now that’s the last thing I need.
What I need is to crush my brother’s head under a vice. Yeah, maybe I’m being overly dramatic, but so what? I’m pretty sure that he’s the one behind Connor leaving, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let him have his way.
As I reach the bottom of the stairs, my gaze catches one of the full-plate armors in a corner of the hallway. I consider stealing the sword from the empty armor, but I don’t want to risk
ending the night covered in blood. Yeah, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m pissed enough to commit murder right now.
"Earl!" I shout as I walk down the corridor that leads to his study. I stop in front of his door and, gritting my teeth, I turn the handle on the door and try to push it open. It’s locked, but I don’t even bother with knocking, I just slam my fist against the door as hard as I can. Earl’s study is on the opposite side to where my parents have their bedroom, and so there’s not a chance in hell that they’ll be able to hear us. "Open up, Earl! RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"
"And here she is, the Donovan princess," he mocks me as he opens up the door. He leans against the doorway clumsily, almost as if he has forgotten how to stand up, and just looks at me with a mocking smile. "What the hell do you want? Came here to apologize?"
"Apologize?" I growl, reaching for him and pushing him inside the room. He stumbles backward against his desk, hitting it hard and sending the open bottle of whisky he has there tumbling down to the floor.
"Hey, what the fuck!" he cries out, going down on his knees to pick the bottle up from the floor. "What the fuck’s wrong with you?"
"You are what’s wrong with me. And you either start talking right now or I’ll give you the beating you always needed."
33
Clarise
"What the fuck are you on about?" Earl asks me, going up to his feet clumsily, the bottle of whisky in his hands. "Are you on drugs, Clarise? Because it sure as hell looks like it."
"Stop pretending you have no idea what I’m talking about, asshole," I threaten him, turning around and locking the door of his study. I take the key off the lock and curl my fingers around it, gripping it so hard that my knuckles turn white.
If you think I’m putting myself in danger, don’t worry; my brother is a class-A asshole, but he’s nothing more than a coward. And, judging by the expression that took over his face as I locked the door, that cowardice is getting the better of him right now. And that’s exactly what I want.
Feel afraid, brother, feel very afraid.
"I have no idea what you’re talking about," he tells me, almost as an insult. Sitting down on the leather chair behind his desk, he refills his glass of whisky and downs the whole thing at once. Running one hand through his hair, he then smacks his lips together and looks at me in complete silence, waiting for me to say something.
"Why’s Connor leaving?" I ask him, taking one step toward the desk and placing both my hands on top of it. "Tell me, and make it quick."
"Connor’s leaving?" he asks me, widening his eyes in genuine surprise. Jesus, what if he isn’t the one pushing Connor out? What if I made a mistake? But no… He might not know that Connor’s leaving, but there’s something he isn’t telling me. And I want to know what it is.
"Yes, he’s leaving. And I want to know why," I insist, staring him down.
"Oh, are you sad you’re going to lose your boyfriend, ‘sis?" he taunts me, refilling his glass once more. "You must be so heartbroken right now. Are you going to cry? You can cry if you want."
"You’re the who’s going to be crying if you don’t spill the beans." I lower my voice menacingly, making it clear that I might do good on my threats and give him a serious beating.
"It’s quite simple, ‘sis," he leans over the desk, placing his elbows on it and looking at me with that mocking smile of his. "I outsmarted the both of you. You thought you could plot against me behind my back, didn’t you? Well, that’s over now, Clarise, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me."
"What are you saying?" I ask, growing more impatient by the second.
"You still haven’t got it, huh? I have proof that the two of you were fucking. That’s right… I’ve got footage of the two of you going at it in the church. And, hm, you guys really seemed into it. Tell me, Clarise, is he a good lay? Because you sure as hell screamed your heart out."
"You fucking --" I start, gritting my teeth together and walking around the desk. Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, I ball my hands into fists and I prepare to punch the living shit out of him.
"Calm the fuck down, Clarise. I’m the one holding the cards right now. Keep on acting like such a bitch and I’ll expose you to the whole city. Don’t think that I won’t do it; I’ll ruin Connor, I’ll ruin you, and I’ll ruin whoever gets in my way."
"I’m your sister…" I tell him in disbelief, my grip on his shirt growing weak. I never really got along with Earl, but this is too much. To think that my own brother’s blackmailing me… how did this happen?
