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"Okay, you're having a woman come stay with you? Thanks for letting me know." I nod toward the guys, and they all stand, ready to get out of there.
"She has a daughter, Malik. She'll be staying with us too. She's seventeen, a year younger than you, so I expect you to behave yourself. She'll be going to your school." He clears his throat. "I expect that you’ll be on your best behavior, so it'll be in your best interest to be respectful to her and her daughter. It is serious, Malik."
So many fucking things lie within that statement. My mind spins, and I can feel the guys' eyes on me, questioning, waiting. Wanting to be smartasses like I want to be right now, if I wasn't so damn speechless.
My eyes narrow, and I stare at my dad, curling my lips back as I bare my teeth, sharp and fucking angry when I snap at him. "Don't worry, as soon as she realizes the fucking bastard you are, she'll be out before I can do any damage."
I head up the stairs, my shoes echoing on the marbled black floors. I can hear the guys’ shoes shuffling behind me.
I don't even make it to the top of the stairs before I hear the crash of a vase hitting the wall.
Fucking bastard.
The wind whips the hair from my forehead, the cool air at the pier slashing against my cheeks. I clench my jaw, staring down at the filter of my cigarette as I squish it between my thumb and forefinger.
My fucking father.
The nerve of him. To bring a family into my house and act like I'm going to be an upstanding citizen. I chuckle under my breath.
"Baby, want to come over to my house tonight? I've missed you these last few days." Thea presses against me, a hint of vodka blowing from between her lips, swirling into the cool air and slapping me in the face. She presses a kiss against my jaw, her plump lips slightly sticky as they hit my chin. I close my eyes, bringing the cigarette to my mouth and taking a drag. The edge of the cherry brushes her dark hair, and I listen to the strands sizzle, the smell of her burning locks sliding into my nose.
"Not tonight." I lift my head away from hers, not in the mood for her clingy attitude. I don't usually mind. She suctioned the label of girlfriend/boyfriend on me last year before I could fucking blink, but I never refuted it. Don't ask me why. Maybe I just like the fact that someone is there to warm my bed whenever I want, and Thea seems to warm it well.
But when she gets extra clingy like this, all I want to do is fling her scrawny ass over the side of the pier.
The dark sky clashes against the dark water, everything mixing into a black abyss that feels just as ominous as this town behind me.
"But why?" she whines. I take another drag of my cigarette and drop it, crushing it beneath my black boot. I look around, looking for the boys so I can get away from Thea. I see Atticus standing by the railing talking to Felix. Thea is still complaining to me, but I grab her by the arms and push her aside.
"I'll talk to you later, Thea."
"But, babe," she sighs.
The wind carries her voice away, and I don't turn back. I walk up to my friends, stopping beside Atticus. The three of us stand in a row, all encased in dark clothing with dark features and dark hair. Levi must be somewhere behind me. He's casually dating Thea's friend, Fiona. But he cares about Fiona just as much as I care about Thea.
So, barely at all.
"What's up?" Felix looks me over, his eyes red, baked.
I shrug. "Another day."
"So, you're getting a sister?" Atticus smiles at me, a look shining in his eyes like he wants to have fun. He wants to play a game.
We play a lot of games here. We do what we want with who we want. There are no limits with us, and most people think we're dangerous because of it.
I think it's the air of Castle Pointe. The toxic air poisoning us. That and our parents. Overly arrogant, a little crooked. The highest profile families in Castle Pointe that live in the biggest castles on the most jagged cliffs. Even if we lived in a normal world, in a normal city, people would look the other way, just because of our last names.
Malik Myers.
Felix Port.
Atticus Berlin.
Levi Sloan.
Myers. Port. Berlin. Sloan.
People walk the other way when there’s one of us around. It’s just instinct. If you want to be around us, you’ll most likely regret it in the end. None of us have mothers. We’re the men raised by men. We’re brutal and gritty, and people fear us. Theyshouldfear us.
