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“The truth is, you don’t want to know the real me,” I say to my son. I push back my chair, grating the floor. The noise is ugly. Travis is here in spirit, warning me to take it easy. “My job isn’t for little boys like you. No, I don’t wish for Fylox to be my son. He is like my son, and that’s enough. He has a dad, and you do, too. You better remember that. If you want me to leave, tell me so yourself. Don’t hide behind your wife and her status as my boss.”
Alex doesn’t speak, and I see a glimmer of regret in his eyes. I choose to ignore it.
“Since you don’t have the balls to say it, I will do it. I’m going to leave,” I say.
“No, please. Alex. Say something!” Felicita urges my son, but he just stares at me, staggered at the turn of events. “You’re not well. Please, Jordan. Stay. We can go on walks. Take it easy. Don’t go. We can invite her over again, just the three of us. I want to get to know Ivy. She’s a good woman for you. I’m sure….”
She wants me close by just like I do. We need confirmation that we’re both still here. I haven’t left my sister alone in the years since our reunion, and it hurts to do it now, but I must.
“I didn’t think you’d give up so early,” Alex blurts out.
“I have pride. I won’t be kicked out in front of my men. I’ll be gone by the end of the hour. You can explain to them what happened tomorrow when I’m not around anymore.” Which means I have about fifteen minutes to jump into my Escalade and head out.
Leaving my family behind in the dining room, I hurry up the stairs. They creak below me, more so than usual. It’s like Travis is here, and he’s unhappy with how I’m leaving things.Too bad. He was a better family man than me. He never left his daughter. But he killed the mothers of the people that mean the most to Valentina. He lied to his kids for years about his sexuality. He couldn’t prevent my sister from being raped by Aram daily. Knowing what Travis did in his past doesn’t stop Valentina from kneeling at his grave and crying her eyes out every time she visits him. My niece’s love for her dad’s endless. She’s his little strawberry through and through, and in times like these, I question how I ended up in this mess.
The people around me are unhappy with how I’m handling things.
As I open the door to my bedroom, the door handle falls off, and I curse under my breath. Fuck you, Travis.
I don’t even have my own home anymore.
Everything I do is connected to the people downstairs. I live and breathe for them. It stirs up the anger in me, but the detachment returns. I can’t even be mad. I’m back in Ivy’s living room, watching my son celebrate his fourth championship ring. My heart thunders in my chest, urging me to rethink my actions.
But I don’t care.
I don’t trust my heart anymore. That fucker’s betrayed me too many times already.
Picking up a gym bag, I stuff it with my clothes, shoes, and guns. I don’t even have an attachment to this room. I’m barely in here, and it doesn’t feel like home. When I’m here, I sleep with one eye open, ready to fight anyone who dares to step into Travis’s home to hurt my sister.
The guilt is back, but I bite at it, making it bleed out for me.Die, bitch.
I feel like I haven’t slept in days as I carry my bag down the stairs and past my wailing sister. She’s crying, but I know I should leave. Once I’m gone, Alex and Fylox will depart, and then, she’ll have the house to herself again.
She needs to move on just as much as I do. I’m not sure how she can do that, considering that she lives in an empty home that she spent her life in with her deceased husband. She raised her kids here, one became the devil, and the other became an angel. My sister has lost a lot, but I know she can overcome.
In the end, she’s stronger than all of us.
I unlock my car, and I faintly register a shadow from Valentina’s home moving my way. I ignore it. Her husband must have heard the noises coming from the Cross house, and he came out to check on it.
My sister yells at my son, urging him to do something, but nobody else moves.
The car starts, and I float away.
Who’s next?
* * *
Ivy is frail,a broken little doe.
Just like me, she hasn’t slept. I came to her house right after I left the palace for good. I kept hold of my senses, and I didn’t lose my shit. At least, I don’t think I blacked out. I haven’t heard anything, so I must have been a good boy at least once in my life.
I knocked on Ivy’s door, but she wasn’t home.
Smolyakov came out of his apartment, looking more disheveled than I felt, and he stared me down. He didn’t say a word, but we understood each other. Things wouldn’t end well if we started a fight in front of Ivy’s home.
Ivy’s best friend retreated into his humble abode, and I left the building, settling in my car across the road. The deathtrap Ivy usually rode around in wasn’t here. That was my only solace. She could be visiting friends.
Friends she didn’t have.
