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“I’m sure dad didn’t plan on that either,” I say.
“He was careless,” Jack argues. “Trust me, we learned from his mistakes.”
“If you’d learned anything from this, you’d get out of this nonsense yourself,” I claim. “Instead of complaining about unfair parole hearings.”
I pause, trying to calm myself as my pulse begins to speed with rage. This always happens when I argue with any of my brothers, and I hate it. They’re so undiscerning, deaf and blind to any argument I bring to the table.
“Did you ever think about Grace?” I try my last resort. Our sister has always been the weak spot of our family, the poor little nestling who needs our protection. “Do you think about what kind of example you’re setting for her?”
Jack erupts in a dirty laugh.
“Cheap shot, brother,” he retorts. “I see what you’re trying to do here, but it ain’t working on me. No one is trying to set any examples for her. We are looking out for her, though. Unlike you! You fled the city, leaving us—and her—alone without thinking twice. And now you’re seeking the moral high ground by bringing her into this!”
“Who’s going to take care of her when you guys end up in prison?” I bark at him.
“No one is going to prison!” Jack bemoans.
“How can you be so sure of that?” I ask. “You don’t think the police is keeping tabs on us? I wouldn’t even be surprised if we’re under surveillance already. How do you know you’re being safe?”
An annoyed groan is all I get as a response, and I don’t have to see Jack to know that he’s rolling his eyes at me.
“I’m tired of having this conversation,” he says.
As am I. I’m even more tired of my brothers being such irresponsible dickheads, but I refrain fromsaying anything to that effect. Jack knows where I’m standing. Maybe one day we’ll be in the same place, but that day is not today.
“Agree to disagree,” I grumble. “Is there anything else I should know? Anything new from Grace?”
Jack sighs.
“No,” he says. “Last I heard from Tyler that she’s being taken care of. No need to worry for now.”
There’s always need to worry about Grace, but I guess she’s safer where she’s now than living with my reckless brothers. At least she’s being taken care of by professionals instead of a pack of criminals.
“Keep me posted,” I say to Jack, knowing that he probably won’t. My brothers are all hell-bentonpunishingme for my decision to cut ties with the crime-filled world we grew up in—and that means no contact, unless they absolutely have to.
I hear a noise coming from the door as I end the call and only now realize that I never closed it properly when I came in here.
“Kat?” I yell, but there’s no response.
I get up from my chair and stride out into the hallway in wide steps. She’s nowhere to be seen.
“Kat, are you ready to leave?” I specify.
“Yes?” I hear her voice, coming from the living room.
I hurry down the corridor and find her sitting on one of the high chairs at the bar that divides the open kitchen from the living area. She’s wearing a cocktail dress in a light blue, studded with shimmering beads and ending just above her knee. Her dark hair is curled up in an elegant updo, accentuated with delicate hairpins in the same color as her dress, sparkling as the light hits them when she turns her head. Her make-up is stronger than usual, her lips painted in a piercing red that contrast the icy blue of her dress, and her blue eyes adorned with winged black eyeliner and thick lashes.
She looks absolutely stunning—but also a bit flushed. Even under the heavy make-up, I can tell that her cheeks are slightly reddened and her breath is a little erratic.
“Everything okay?” I want to know.
She nods hastily. “Yes, sure. I’m just a little nervous.”
Adding a little chuckle, she slides off the high chair, carefully balancing on her heels as she presents herself to me, a coy smile playing on her face. “Do I look okay?”
“Perfect,” I assess, as I approach her.
A smile blossoms on her face when I plant a kiss on her forehead.
