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“Jesus, Emerson.”
“It’s true.”
He knows this as well as I do. Our family history doesn’t include much consistency. Not from our mother. Not from our criminal father. The most stability he ever offered us was the closet.
Sin’s expression turns serious. “I have to tell you something, but I need to know you’re okay before I do it.”
“I’m fine. I’m just tired.”
He chews at the inside of his lip. The sun breaks from behind a cloud, and light pours into the room. It could be summer light, it’s so warm. Sin’s eyes catch in it. They’re green-tinged blue like shallow water. He’s still wearing his coat. Black. Wool. Brand-new. He must have bought it when he landed. They don’t need coats like that in LA.
Sin is going to require more convincing.
“It stopped for the most part when I got into the SUV to come home. And then Daphne was here.” This is an extremely generous interpretation of last night’s events, but I don’t want to get into it. Not more than we already have. “I slept. I’m fine. I’m just tired. You can tell me whatever the hell it is.”
“Dad showed up at my hotel. Usually, the valet can get him to leave, but this time he came inside and threatened the receptionist. She was about to call the police when I got there.”
The sun disappears behind a cloud. My countertop dulls. Glittering dust motes disappear from the air. It’s a matte effect now. When I look at Sin again, I find he’s been waiting for me.
“You should have let her. He belongs in jail.”
“Maybe I should have. I didn’t want to deal with more of his bullshit.”
The pieces of this story don’t fit together.
“What did he want? I thought he got the money. He came here to gloat while he fucked me over.” Exhaustion spears into the center of my brain. Yes, I kept Daphne at my house. But my father is the one who sent me fleeing into the fucking ocean, leaving Daphne alone. He cut our time short. I won’t forgive him for that.
“I think he owes more than that.”
“How can he owe so much goddamn money? He hasn’t even been out that long.”
“From before, I guess. I don’t have the details. I didn’t talk to him long enough to find out.”
When we were younger, Sin was the one who was easiest for my father to look at. To talk to. That changed, thanks to our mother. Regardless, none of us wants a lengthy heart-to-heart with the bastard.
“You don’t think he’d come back here, do you?”
I have no doubt Daphne’s brother has already sent more than one insistent text about hiring security. I’ll do it when I’m not so tired.
“There’s no way for him to get more money out of this Daphne situation,” Sin says.
I don’t disagree with him. Not out loud. But dread needles the base of my skull. In spite of it, I want to believe what Sin is saying.
“No. Of course not.”
“I’m sure this is just Dad’s final attempt to get our attention. Maybe a little more money, if he can. But it’s not going to last. He’ll give up and leave us alone. In the meantime…” Sin tosses the box of tea onto the countertop and goes for the fridge. “You want some breakfast?”
Brushstrokes bloom over the countertop. Over the window. Another shaft of morning light angles through the glass. I don’t know whether it’s hope or panic doing this to me. I want it to be over with my father. If the world was fair, it would be. Daphne’s brothers didn’t kill me. They’re not going to take me to jail and leave me there to lose my mind.
We’re safe, for the moment. My house isn’t in danger. I’m not in danger.
I push that fear away, to the far end of a gallery wall. It’s because I’m tired. Overtired. Sustained panic attacks like the one I had at Will’s apartment are more draining than any surfing trip. My emotions add another layer of exhaustion. I’m not used to feeling so much. I’m not used to wanting to feel this much.
I want, more than anything, to climb the stairs to the studio, sit in one of the chairs, and sleep while Daphne paints.
“Emerson.” Sin’s standing at my open fridge, looking over his shoulder at me. “Is something still going on?”
“No. I think Daphne’s hungry too.”
“I’ll make enough for her,” Sin says. “Now tell me about the piece you’re giving to Will. You’d better have one in mind for me.”
“Or else what?”
“Or else I’ll stay in your guest room for the next week.”
“Fuck you, Sin. Take whatever piece you want.”
