|2nd Book in The Devil May Care Series|
They're more alike than they think.
At war with himself, Loki struggles to get his life on track. He struggles with manic depression-in other words, bipolar. He feels alone, trapped in his own mind as he refus...
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It's been three days.
Three days since the incident with my dad. Three days since I've spoken to Loki. Three days I've missed out of school because the bruises on my face were still very much visible. They hadn't faded, not even a little bit and just the thought of it had my heart skipping a beat. I didn't want anyone to see my face.
I sit at the dinner table across from my father, tension brewing between the two of us. We had barely spoken but today he called me down to eat, telling me that he wanted to speak with me. I haven't touched my plate, I was to anxious to eat. Afraid that I'll do something wrong so I sat silent, waiting for him to speak. Waiting as he ate without an issue. He barely acknowledged my face. His eyes didn't flicker with remorse. He didn't look ashamed proving to me that he felt no regret. He didn't care.
I guess that meant I shouldn't care as well but how could I not? I've never been in this position before. I've never thought I'd be in my mothers position because I swore to myself that I'd be more but how could I when I had no support? I couldn't even support myself. What was I supposed to do? Cry about it? What good would that do me? And if I told, who would believe me? My father was good with putting on a front, it's why so many people respected him.
Maybe...I was overreacting. It was only one hit. It could be worse, right? I mean Azrael was abused for years. Who was I to complain about a hit that only lasted a couple of seconds? I could let it go, I just needed the evidence on my face to disappear.
"Judas is back in town."
I freeze at my father's words, "Judas?" I ask, my voice quiet as I process. Judas was my father's brother, an unwanted relative.
My father's head dips in confirmation, "He'll be here for dinner on Sunday night and will be leaving the morning after." He explains, oblivious to the way my face pales. I hated Judas, I couldn't tell you why. There was just something about him that made my skin crawl with unease. He was as cold as my father but when he smiled, it was sharp and sent shivers down your spine. He use to watch my mother like she was a piece of meat and when she died, his eyes followed me.
I had no idea why he my father was having him over for dinner, "I thought you hated Judas." I state, my face screwed up in confusion.
He doesn't even glance at me, "Everyone hates Judas but Judas is a big part of my business and I can't do anything without him, unfortunately." He explains, his tone bored but I could see the tension in his posture. He didn't want Judas to come over here and as much as I hated my father, I could understand why.
I hesitate, "Is that who was here the other night?" I ask, quietly.
His eyes finally meet mine, "Yes." He confirms, "You're grandmother and grandfather were here as well." He informs and I suddenly feel a ball of sadness hit me. If I had known my grandparents were coming over, I wouldn't have missed it. My grandfather was an asshole but my grandmother was the sweetest little person ever and I rarely ever saw her.
