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-Sixteen Years Old-
Blood rushed through my veins as the adrenaline pulsated within my ears. I scowled at the side of the gothic-inspired cobblestone mansion. Rain down-poured, scoring into my flesh as my muscles rippled and flexed.
I was playing with fire and more likely than not, about to get myself killed.
But I needed to see them.
Needed to see who I left behind and to remind myself that everything I was doing was worth it. For as long as I could remember, nothing other than her had mattered. That didn’t change when I found myself abandoned and afraid.
It only strengthened my resolve in doing what I needed to do and becoming who I needed to become.
My leather-booted foot caught on the trellis and I cursed, shaking my leg to set myself free before I reached over and latched onto the cold and weathered balcony. Pulling myself over to the right and hefting myself up and over, I dropped to my knees as the rain pelted against my back even harder.
My chest was frozen, not just from the rain but also from the fact I’d come here without proper clothing. I only wore a black wife beater with black lounge pants. I hadn’t intended on coming here, but when I’d heard they had swung back through town, something overcame me and that restless beast inside of me rooted against his cage until I’d snapped and ran out into the night.
I made quick work of picking the lock and stepping inside. My sodden clothing seeped into the beige carpet but I didn’t care. Silently, I padded across the open space and stalked toward the bed. Breathing heavily, I hung my head and glared at the young lad sleeping on his side without knowing who loomed above him.
My brother.
Shawn.
He looked just like me.
Devilishly handsome and smug, even sleeping.
I hadn’t seen him since he was five and something inside of me slithered with unease at how much my heart clenched for him. After I’d memorized his features, told myself this wouldn’t be the last time I’d see him, I’d turned and made my way into the next room.
To my sister’s room.
Ilya.
The entire mansion was cast in shadows and despite how hard I tried to erase my past, to forget certain things, this place was never one of the things I could push aside so easily.
My family had many homes and Ravensdale wasn’t one of our permanent residents. I hadn’t understood it at the time, being so young, but this was a home we used when my father was conducting business in the area.
Ilya had her mouth opened, a delicate snort huffed from her slender nose and I found myself smirking at how casual she looked. How peaceful and indelicate. There was something about her that told me if I’d captured this image on camera and showed it to her, she’d beat me with it. Sensing she favored her looks.
I’d already spent more time here than what I should have. Left behind evidence of my entry too. My brown and muddied footprints imprinted into the ground, I made my way to the last room where my mother and father slept.
She was as beautiful as ever.
Her head of dark hair fanned out as she laid on her outstretched arm. Her long lashes fluttered as she dreamed and I found myself wondering what she thought about.
My father was on his front, hugging his pillow as he snored like the wheels of a train on the track.
Wiping the back of my hand across my mouth, I cleared my throat and clenched my jaw.
Destroying any emotion inside of me as it began to rise.
Somethings were just better left in the dark.
This wasn’t my family.
After all, what kind of family didn’t avenge the death of their son?
CHAPTER THREE
Alessia
