Evangeline
Two awful days of silence pass. Asher said he needed space. Neither of the twins come of of their room, and Lucas barely looks at me. Even something that would usually have made me smile, texts from Owen and Daniel expressing support do little to comfort me. For the first time in forever, I feel so... alone.
It's a horrible feeling. The swirling black hole in my chest can't help but pulsate with bitterness every time their face crosses my mind.
A text notification pings on my phone, and my heart nearly jumps out of my chest. It's from my father. Two messages, that last one being, 'you better be ready when I get back.'
Did Lucas spill the beans? Asher and I haven't officially ended it yet, and I somehow doubt any of my stepbrothers would rat on us, no matter how angry they might be.
I'm going to disown you, is what Dad might say.
Anger builds up slowly in me. His messages read:
I know what you did. You're such a disappointment. I'm ashamed to bee your parent. I'm going to fucking disown you, your filthy whore. I'm going to leave all my assets to your brothers in future. Go to hell.
Tears blur my eyes. It's no so much the hurtful words sent via text; I've heard them a billion times before.
I recall the sensation of each stinging slap, every vulgarity hurled at me in his fits of rage, the hundreds of bruises bestowed by his heavy hand unto my flesh over the years. Dad was never happy with me. With what he had.
The screen dims, then lights up again as my phone vibrates with more messages. The lock screen is a picture of all of my brothers, me in the centre, with Daniel and Owen on the twins's birthday.
I've come to a decision today. I know what I'm going to do. Not to set things right, the way they should be, but find another solution.
Lucas's room. The place where everything fell apart.
"L—Lucas."
He spins in his chair to face me, looking tired.
"Yeah?"
He doesn't cal me by his usual nickname, which sends a stab of guilt thought me. I shake it off. Nope. This is something of my own doing. I'm going to face it, wha I want, an take it. No regrets.
I breathe in deeply.
"Lucas. I love you."
-
Lucas
My Princess chews on her lip, a tell she's nervous. I want to kiss her. Touch her. Comfort her. I'm not angry. Just disappointed that she doesn't trust us.
Still, at the same time...
I want to push her up against the wall, onto my bed, do the dirtiest, most unspeakable things to her. Just like how Asher did, in Max's description.
Yet, at the same time, I'm so afraid her fragile bones will snap, her soft skin will bruise like a peach when my other side comes out. The darker, rougher one that's buried deep under, the one hiding under the facade that is the Lucas she knows. The one that cares not for the social norms or the relationship boundaries that prevent me from expressing how I really feel.
Technically, though frowned upon, it is legal for stepsiblings to have a non-platonic relationship here in our country. But we're minors, and what her and Asher did is illegal by law. All these useless thoughts run through my head. Yet, nothing matters as those three words of hers smash through the foggy haze a slam into me like a tonne of bricks.
