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She fucked up somewhere along the lines.
Just like I did.
Movement outside catches my attention. I pause listening to the quickening rasp of my breath. There she is. Coming toward the house, warm sun highlighting her long legs just beneath that short skirt.
I expect her to look more worn down or sad but she’s smiling, a huge ridiculous grin against her lips as she talks to herself like she always does when she thinks she’s alone.
She really is strong if that’s what she looks like after day one at Mournmount.
The door begins to open and I realize I’m just standing in the foyer doing nothing – nothing but waiting on her.
Fuck.
I launch myself across the space and onto a leather armchair. The book next to me becomes mine in an instant. I don’t care what book it is or whose it is but I’m using it as a prop.
Violet steps into the sunlit room only to find me reading. Not waiting. I make a point not to glance up at her as she strolls on by, intoxicating vanilla scent wafting behind her. She doesn’t bother to look at me either. Instead she hums some catchy tune and takes the stairs up to my bedroom.
“Mr. Reyes.”
The voice startles me, the book slamming shut as I jump.
Mr. Heethers, our butler, smiles gently. Violet’s still awkward around him. It’s cute. She hates being waited on but in the last couple of weeks she’s finally stopped constantly apologizing to the staff everytime she so much as leaves a crumb on the counter.
“I’m just reminding you that your father is looking forward to hearing from you this week,” Mr. Heethers says.
With a long drawn out sigh, I lean back, bouncing my head of the seat because even that’s better than speaking with him.
“I know, but it’s best to get it over with. Then you don’t need to update him again for another week and then he’ll be home for the holidays in November.”
Great.
Mr. Heethers is right, just get it over with. Bowing my head I ready myself for this absolutely shitty conversation that’s about to happen. I reach for my phone and point up the stairs with my other hand.
“Can you make sure Violet gets some dinner?”
Mr. Heethers nods. “She’s probably hungry after a grueling first day at a new school. I’ll let the cook know to whip up something nice.”
“Yeah. I heard she found period blood in her lunch and didn’t get a chance to eat.” I can't help the smile that slices my lips.
If she thinks this is a game, she's wrong.
We're out for blood. Literally.
“That... poor girl." Mr. Heethers looks as disgusted as she did but as always, he recovers quickly. "Any preference on what you would like for your own dinner?”
“Nothing. I’m not hungry.” It's exhausting when forgotten emotions rear their fucking head.
Is it guilt? I fucking doubt it. But it is hard hurting someone you spent so long protecting.
Mr. Heethers gives a small bow and exits the room. He leaves me alone, staring at my phone. I force myself to hold down the voice command button because I don’t know that I could physically make myself dial his number.
“Call Dad.”
And it rings. And rings again.
Sweat is already building in my palm against my phone. With a slow inhale I try to not focus on the pit of dread that has my insides knotting together.
Maybe he’s in trial. Or a meeting with a client. Or anywhere else but right next to his ringing phone.
