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And what rare little bit of peace I felt with her is now gone. Around her, I didn’t feel so exposed. I didn’t feel the pressure to posture or fight. Hell, even when I made it difficult for her, she had a way of calming me with the weird bond we had.
She’s acting like I’m a monster, like this was entirely my fault, but once Roxie showed up, everything spiraled out of control. It ramped up to a whole new level, one between women. Even if Roxie wasn’t my soon-to-be fiancée, she’s a high-ranking female in my clan. On clan loyalty alone, there was no way I could intercede.
No, Star was on her own.
And speaking of being on her own, what was she thinking standing up to Roxie? She didn’t even have her two little friends to back her up. I mean, did she have a death wish or something? Was she into degradation? She should’ve just run out of there.
“Come on,” I prod her as I move toward the front door, leaving her little choice but to follow.
I open the door, hold it for her, and shoot her another hard stare.
She tries to match my expression with a stubborn one of her own, but I hold it until she breaks. I suppress a sigh of irritation. I’ll always win out in the end, but now there’s this heavy tension between us.
She huffs as she breezes past me with her nose in the air like she can’t stand me. I get it; there are days I feel the same way.
I follow her as she skips down the brownstone steps to the sidewalk.
Pointing to my house, I direct her. “The next one over.”
Traditionally, aconsilierlives close to thesef. There’s currently noconsilier, but since my father went crazy and killed himself, no one had the audacity to kick us out of our home, so we’re still here.
She swiftly marches toward my house, leaving me trailing far behind. It’s definitely a form of disrespect, but I let her go ahead. No need to antagonize her further when I need her help. If I wasn’t holding her backpack, I’m not even sure I could get her to my house. But it’s imperative we talk; I must get control of the situation and make sure we don’t end up back in front of Cristo again. I didn’t appreciate the tightness in my chest when Star was called up in front of him and I liked it even less when he butted into my business with her.
Star jogs lightly up the stoop and waits for me by my front door.
I look up at her, framed by the front door of my familial home, and jolt in place.
She looks so fucking pretty up there, glaring at me with sparks in her eyes. Her hair is glistening its pearl-white, blonde color. Star’s soul calls to me—more than ever, since I’ve failed her—but so does my goal.
It’s about my family name, yes, but it’s also about my mother’s and sister’s futures.
Especially my sister’s. Zoe just started high school. She’s growing up and before I know it, she’ll be getting engaged. I need to have solidified my family’s status in the clan by then. I can never risk having her marry a man with problems, like my father. She’s going to have the pick of the crop.
I take the steps two at a time. Turning the key in the lock, I pause to warn her, “My mother and sister might be home. Behave yourself. They know nothing outside of you tutoring me.”
Star gives me a look of pure loathing. “Your sister goes to our school. I’m sure she knows all about what happened.”
I cringe inwardly. Jesus, I’m going to have to have a talk with Zoe about it.
“Even so, behave yourself.”
“Ugh, let’s set the record straight, Lucian,” she says in a haughty tone. “I’m not the one with behavior problems. I know how to treat people right.”
I growl low. Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes. Fuck, she can be annoying.
Ignoring her, I put on a cheery face for the sake of my mother. The woman’s suffered enough for one lifetime. I’m not about to add to it.
I step into the doorway and a wave of longing hits me. The house is preserved exactly as it was when my father was alive, a nod to the happiest time of her life.
From her perch on the burnt-orange loveseat, my mother’s head swivels to the sound of the opening door. Zoe is beside her. They’re framed in silhouette by the light coming from the window behind them. The strong sunlight is diffused by a set of long sheer white curtains, bordered with heavier curtains and valances. In contrast, the dark parquet floor, covered with a traditional rug, matches the exposed beams on the ceiling.
Light and dark, the story of our family.
My mother holds a small cup of Turkish coffee but immediately abandons it on the smooth cherry wood table at her side without taking a sip. Brows raised, she stands up to greet our guest, her hands clasped in front of her expectantly. Zoe rises belatedly behind Mama, her mouth open at seeing a Lupu coming through the front door.
“I didn’t expect you back so soon— Ah, you’ve brought a guest,” she says.
“Mama, this is Starlene,” I explain as I reach her and drop a kiss on her cheek. “Star, this is my mother.”
