The Black and the White Rose

Chapter Twelve

        After I take my relaxing shower, I walk down the stairs and shake my hair. As I come to the bottom, I grip the towel hanging on my shoulders. I see Skye standing in the grand hallway. She looks angry, sad, and hurt.
        "Hey..." I say. I look at Laylen, then back at her. "Skye, I..." She shakes her head and walks toward the front door. Before it slams I rush passed Laylen. "What did you say to her?" I accuse. I open the door and slam it behind me. I follow Skye down the driveway. "Skye!" I shout. She doesn't answer. "Skye, wait!" She still doesn't answer. She just keeps walking. "Skye!"
        "Why?!" she yells and spins around to face me. I stop in my tracks, afraid to come near her. Her face is red with anger and frustration, and her eyes are bloodshot. I can see the wetness of her cheeks as she stares at me. "You've told me many lies, and I've found a way to look passed them, but this...this lie, I must say, is not as forgivable," she says as she grits her teeth. "Why...did you have to lie about this? Why didn't you tell me about your brother? Why did you lie about your sister?"
        I bite my lip hard. She steps closer to me slowly, waiting for him to answer my questions. I stand as still as possible, and as she gets closer, I hope she can't see the tears on my cheeks. She pinches her eyebrows together and gives me a suspicious look.
        I can't tell her yet I have to make something up quickly. I blink away my tears and inhale. "You have to understand. I lie about these things to protect you," I say in a low voice, trying to sound calm. "You shouldn't have come here today. You should've texted me. I would've met up with you somewhere else." I can see it in her eyes that my words are breaking her heart just as much as they're breaking my own; but I can't back down now.
        "What..." she hesitates. "So you're making this my fault? All I wanted was just to-"
        "You should've called or something. You shouldn't be here. You weren't supposed to be here," I interrupt her.
        "I came here to surprise you..." she whispers devastatingly, "but I guess I should've just stayed home instead."
        My heart finally shatters into a million pieces, but I keep a straight face as tears slip from her beautiful, green eyes one by one. She starts to walk backwards, then she turns around and walks slowly toward the town square. I watch her intently until she disappears around the curve of the road.

        The flames warm my body as I ponder on the red sofa in the great room. I rest my chin on my knuckles and think about what I'm going to do next. I hear footsteps come toward the room and stop at the top of the steps. I don't turn around to see who it is, because I know it's Laylen.
        "You know, brother," he begins, and I reposition myself so I'm looking at him with narrow eyes, "if you had just told your girlfriend that part of our family is her enemy, maybe she wouldn't hate you as much."
        I stand up and yell, "Don't talk about her like that! It wasn't her fault. She was taken by them."
        Laylen walks up to me and argues, "And what did you do to stop them? You did nothing."
        I push him away from me and scream, "You know I couldn't! Where were you when they took her? You sure as hell weren't here!" He flashes his fangs and lunges at me with incredible speed. I raise my hand and exclaim, "Afflictio!" He doubles over, clutching his head. "I have lived in this house alone for months. You do not get to come back here and threaten me. I'm not as weak as you think I am," I tell him boldly.
        I lower my hand, and he rolls over on his back, chuckling. "I've gone through worse. You think you're so tough because you can handle me by giving me a migraine," he starts, "but how will handle telling Skye about Olivia, hm? You know, since you're trying so hard to protect her from the Angels, you might as well tell her that Olivia-"
        "I'll handle it. You will not tell her anything. Got it?" I demand.
        He stands up and smirks. "Brother, I don't have to answer to you. I can tell your little girlfriend whatever I want to tell her," he says, and he leans close to my ear, "and there's nothing you can do about it."
        He pats me on the shoulder and struts out of the room with a glass in one hand and a bottle of bourbon from one of the tables in the other. I take a deep breath and head up to my room.