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Donny.
I never noticed him growing up. His brothers were so much louder and always stole the show in high school. Makes me wonder if Donny was later adopted or something, because someone this hot, I surely would’ve noticed.
When he shuts the door, my mind goes to the worst places – maybe the Russia drop-off has been moved up. I’m about to be sold off in minutes.
“You stopped your father,” I say, my voice hoarse from screaming.
He’s silent.
“Are you the only one in this house who isn’t a monster?”
His lip twitches, but I have no idea what he’s thinking.
“Well, did you come in here to just stare at me?” I get to my feet to challenge him, and immediately shrink back when he takes an intimidating step closer. He smells like fading cologne and a touch of alcohol swirled into one.
I gulp as his breathing noticeably quickens.
Did he have a drink to handle daddy?
“Are you…” he starts to say, then scoffs.
He casts his gaze away from me, and for a single moment, I swear something haunting passes through his eyes. His shoulders keep going rigid… like he’s battling something deep inside him. The clenching and unclenching of his fists don’t give the impression he wants to strike me.
Then what?
When those silver eyes set on me again, my whole body shivers. Back in that room with Gio – it was just a second, so short I must’ve imagined it – but he looked scared too.
Is he trying to…? No. This is Donny. He’d never—
“Are you… holding up alright?” he asks, confirming the impossible.
My breath catches, and I hate the way my mouth must be gawking like a fish. I start to lean closer to him, my defenses chipping away from that one fleeting, vulnerable moment. The idea of someone caring almost blinding me. He stays fixed in place, yet his hand starts to lift, maybe to meet halfway.
Before I crumble and risk everything by falling into his arms, based off little more than a desperate possibility, I slap my inner self. Don’t be stupid!
“I’d be better if I were home and you all forgot I exist.” It wasn’t the right thing to say. Just like that, he’s all stone again.
“Don’t be ridiculous. But I still have to figure out what I’m going to do with you,” he says.
“There’s only a few hours left to deal with me, right? You already took all my sharp objects away,” I pry, wondering what he means.
His jaw clenches. “Plans have been postponed. And thanks to our fathers’ useless rivalry, you’re now my problem for the foreseeable future.”
Donny throws a paper and dull pencil onto the dresser. “You were supposed to disappear,” he speaks coldly. “But since you’re going to stick around, I need to make arrangements. Write down anyone that might come looking for you, including their number.”
I clutch the pencil, write something quick, and slap the paper against Donny’s chest. Sweat bleeds through the material, and for a second, my heart flutters.
He grabs the paper. “You done playing games?” He shows me the ‘911’ written on it.
I smile facetiously.
“Try again.” He balls his fist, and for the first time, I wonder if he’s going to hit me.
Knowing what his fists are capable of, I write down the name of a distant co-worker instead of my boss in hopes she’ll realize something is amiss. Yea, it’s a longshot, but I have to plant as many seeds as possible.
“Ashley Keen,” he says coolly. “Is this the only person who might notice you’re gone?”
I nod without hesitation. “The only one.”
