Finding Home | Finders Keepers #1✔️

Twenty-Six - No One Will Save You From Me

Seconds. Minutes. Maybe an hour. Maybe a lot of hours. I have not moved. I sit at the stairs, holding my brother in my arms, screaming in pain.

"What about this?"

I hold up the small red dress. It had a sweetheart neckline, lace long-sleeves, and it wasn't that short.

Yet, he shakes his head for the fourth time now. "Your boobs are going to show with that dress and we don't need that."

Rolling my eyes, I place a hand on my hip. "It's a party, Nate. What am I supposed to wear, sweater and sweatpants to hide everything?"

He nods, agreeing. "Or you could wear a big trench coat and just wrap it around yourself to hide everything."

"Sometimes, I hate you."

He laughs, standing up and wrapping his arms around me. "I love you too, you goon."

I wasn't screaming because it had hurt to talk when I tried to wake him up.

"What's wrong?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing. Just Chloe and I had a fight. It's not a big deal."

Giving him a blank look, I wrap my arms around him. "Come on. You know damn well you want to talk to me. It's me, remember? Your sister aka the most attractive sibling."

There it is—his laugh. "Sometimes, I hate you."

"I love you too."

I was screaming because those bullet in his chest were supposed to be in my own and not him.

The gunshots were dying out.

"Sometimes, I hate you."

"I love you too."

"You were found in a dumpster that's why you're trash," he would joke.

"You came out of mom's ass that's why you're an asshole," and I would clapback at him.

Then, we would get swats at the back of our heads.

"I still hate you," he sticks out his tongue.

"What are you, twelve?" But I still do the same. "I love you too."

And what am I supposed to do now?

I've lost my parents and now, I've lost my brother.

"Rose. It's over."

Knowing it was Antonio, I don't bother to look at him. I just stare at the pale sight of my brother, getting blood on his face while I tried to slap him awake, trying to see if he was playing a prank on me.

But it wasn't.

And everybody's dead because of me.

"Johnny's upstairs by his office," he informs me, a hand on my shoulder. When I flinch, he pulls it away. "Your boyfriend, the one who helped us, he's in there with him. He's waiting for your orders. What do you want to do?"

Johnny. The one who started it all—who killed my parents and now killed the only family I had.

Pressing my lips to my brother's forehead, I shake my head and sniff, trying to place myself back together. "I don't want to leave him here," my voice breaks and still is hoarse. Behind him stands every other Notorious gang that was left, staring at me. "I don't want to leave all of them here."