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“I don’t. But it’s not because I don’t think you can’t handle yourself,” she sniffles. “But because you shouldn’t have to.”
“Yeah, well. Anything for you. Just remember you owe me when you’re better. I want more pizza and ice cream than I know what to do with,” I tease.
“That, I can do.”
A horn toots outside our building.
“That will be the car,” my sister says solemnly, attempting to drag her exhausted body from the bed.
“Just stay there,” I say as I throw on her long trench coat to cover up. “Rest. I’ve got this.” Honestly, I have no idea if that’s true or not. My heart is racing at a million beats a second, and I’m not even out of the flat yet.
I can do this.
I can do this.
I can do this.
“Good luck. I’ve got my phone if you need me.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s just serving some drinks, right?”
“Yep, easy.”
She smiles at me but it falls when the car honks again.
“Go,” she encourages with a wide smile on her face that doesn’t really reach her eyes.
“Rest. I’ll see you later.”
And with that, I pull the door wide and attempt to walk through it with my head held high and my confidence higher. Unfortunately, I forget about the god-awful shoes on my feet and almost end up face-first on our dirty carpet.
“Oh my God, are you okay?”
“Yep, just getting used to them,” I say, smoothing my hair back and trying again.
You’ve got this, Evie. You are a sexy young woman who will fit in just as well as all the other girls there tonight. Do your job, get paid, then return home to hide in bed and pretend it never happened.
2
ALEX
Iscrub water from my hair before lowering the towel and wrapping it around my waist. A quick spray of deodorant and I pull the bathroom door open, emerging through the steam like some old nineties game show but I come up short when I find someone sitting at my desk.
“The fuck, man?” I bark, my heart jumping into my throat and my hand shooting to my back to grab the gun I obviously have stashed in my towel. Dickhead.
A wicked smirk twitches at Daemon’s lips.
“Someone’s a little skittish,” he drawls. “Got something to hide, Bro?”
“Fuck you,” I mutter, stalking toward my drawers to pull out a clean pair of boxers. “Good to see you do actually remember where this place is.”
I might have my back to him, but I swear I hear him roll his eyes either at my comment or the fact I’ve just dropped my towel in front of him.
Unlike him, I’m not ashamed of my own skin, not scared to expose the scars I’ve collected over the years. Okay, so yeah, they’re not exactly as obvious as his. But still, I wish he’d just own that shit. Scars are bad-arse, and he’s one of the scariest motherfuckers I know. Not that I’m ever going to tell him that, of course.
I just… I wish he could remember that little boy he used to be. The one before our lives got turned upside down and we were trained for our futures in the way our grandfather saw fit.
I’d be lying if I said none of that affects me. It does. It haunts me daily. But I refuse to give it the power to overtake my life. Not anymore, at least. Now, I try and embrace everything I endured. I mean… it’s gotta be easier than drowning in nightmares, right?
