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I tap his hand and he looks at me, but like this morning when he hugged us and wished us a happy birthday, he’s not really seeing me.
After abandoning my can of beer on the coffee table, I sign, “Wanna dance?”
He shakes his head.
“For me?” I blink my eyes innocently.
He shakes his head again.
Kill throws a pillow at him. “It’s her birthday. Do it.”
“I’m going to fucking murder you, motherfucker.” Nikolai throws back the pillow, hitting Kill square in the face.
My cousin doesn’t do it again, because he might have provoked Nikolai’s trigger-happy fight response.
I grab my brother’s hand and pull, but since he’s a specimen of pure muscle, it’s impossible to move him.
Finally, he stubs out his half-finished cigarette in the overcrowded ashtray and lets me tug him to a standing position.
I hold on to his hands as I jump to the music. At first, he’s completely unaffected, but then Kill joins us and pushes Niko to make more of an effort.
The whole dancing thing happens due to them shoving each other and spinning me around.
For a moment, I get to unwind, laughing and giggling at how they’re so close to fighting while pretending to dance.
Then, all of a sudden, Kill comes to a halt.
The reason is none other than Jeremy walking in our direction, an arm wrapped around the small of his girlfriend Cecily’s back and accompanied by Glyn and Bran.
Glyn envelops me in a hug and pushes a bag into my hand. “It’s small gifts from the three of us. Happy Birthday.”
“Thank you. You didn’t have to,” I sign and look at Bran, who’s unusually stiff, then type on my phone, “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“You personally invited me. I wouldn’t miss it,” he says with a polite smile, keeping his eyes on me.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Nikolai pushes me behind him and gets nose to nose with Bran. “Another elaborate plan from your brother? What is it this time? Arson? Assault? Murder, maybe?”
I grab onto Nikolai’s arm, and when he doesn’t move, I stand beside him and sign, “Bran is my friend. I invited him to my birthday.”
“It’s okay, Mia,” Bran says to me, even though his eyes, disturbingly similar to Landon’s when he’s angry, remain on Niko. “I couldn’t care less about your brother’s opinion of me, but it’s probably better that I leave.”
“No.” I shake my head a few times.
“Mia is right,” Jeremy says. “You’re our guest.”
Killian, who just finished kissing Glyn—or more like eating her face in front of her brother—releases her and grabs Niko by the shoulder. “If you can accept Glyn and Cecily, you’ll have to accept Bran, too. He has nothing to do with Lan, despite the creepy physical resemblance.”
“He’s right,” Glyn says in a soft voice. “Bran is completely different from Lan. I promise.”
Nikolai continues glaring at Bran as if he wants to seep inside him and destroy whatever he finds in there.
This side of my brother is eerily frightening, and the worst part is that I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.
I grab his hand and pull him back so that he looks at me. “It’s my birthday. I get to invite whomever I please. Don’t ruin it, please.”
He grunts and snatches his pack of cigarettes, but before any of us can release a breath, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
Oh, no.
