Dangerous Game

9 - "Just leave us alone, old man."

Aurora
A girl at school pissed me off today. She had the nerve to call me a slut when she had been making out with a guy that wasn't her boyfriend against his locker, ten minutes prior. Needless to say, I was suspended. So here I was, eating cookie dough ice cream at the kitchen table.

I didn't feel the least bit guilty, if that was your follow-up question. I simply wanted some cookie dough ice cream. I was sitting on the couch in my comfy ass sweatpants, and binge watching Friends. Oh, and it was eleven thirty. Basically, I had the rest of the day to watch Netflix and take a nap. Well, I assumed I had the rest of the day, until I had been so rudely interrupted by someone attempting to knock down the damn door.

Groaning, I pulled open the front door, and I blinked at the person in my doorway.

Before you ask, no, it wasn't Adrian. That was my first guess, too. I had assumed that he had thrown a punch at the girl because he was madly in love with me. At least, that's what would have happened if this was a cliche romance
novel, right?

Well, I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but this is real life, and it only happens to be the ninth chapter.

"Aspen, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in class?"

"None of your damn business," he snaps, and grabs a bottle of Jack Daniels from the fridge. Dad's going to kill him later. Realization dawned on me. His dark eyes were bloodshot, and it was obvious that he couldn't walk in a straight line for shit. Oh, hell no. Is this dumbass seriously drunk at eleven thirty? Eleven fucking thirty.

I cross my arms over my white crop-top, and glare at him. "Aspen, you're drunk."

"No shit, Aurora. What gave it away?" His voice is dripping with sarcasm. "Was it my eyes that are red as fuck, or was it the fact that I can't walk straight?"

I bite down on my bottom lip to keep the tears from falling. He's never spoken to me like this before. Sure, he has never been a good brother, but he's actually scaring me right now. I've never been alone with Aspen when he was drunk. Dad has always been with me. But, now, as I stare at his bloodshot eyes that are circling with anger, I can't deny the fact that I'm scared as fuck.

I pull my phone out of my pocket when he isn't looking, and I hastily send a quick text to someone that I hope isn't busy.

Can you come over, please? I'm legit on the verge of tears right now, and I could really use your help.

A minute passes before I see him typing. I breathe out a sigh of relief.

Adrian: I'm in class, but I'll text my dad. What's your address, Carter?

1234 St. Peters Avenue.

I quickly hit "send" and hope that he arrives before my brother tries to smack me. He did that once, and it didn't feel too good.

"Aurora, hand me another beer, will ya?" Aspen asks. As slowly as I possibly can, I pull open the fridge, and search for the beer.

The front door is kicked open. Adrian's dad is standing in our living room. He wasn't wearing his police uniform, but he did have a gun in his hand. Streaks of gray reside in his black hair, and his tattoos prove to be very different than Adrian's.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm here to keep you from beating up your sister." He replies, an accent evident in his voice. But, to my surprise, it isn't Italian. I'm pretty sure it's either Columbian or Greek.

"You think I would hurt my sister?" Aspen sounds shocked, but he's obviously not. Mom has had suspicions for a while now, but Aspen has always managed to convince her that he wouldn't hurt me even if his life depended on it. Aspen was smart, though. He didn't leave bruises. He never let his fist collide with his face. He has smacked me once, and yelled at me on various occasions, but he hasn't ever punched me. He knows dad would make sure he spent the rest of his life behind bars.

Adrian's dad, who I discovered was named Vincent, wasn't phased at all by the lies that were effortlessly falling from Aspen's mouth. He has more than likely heard better liars than him who have committed crimes than I couldn't even imagine. That scared me even more."Look, I don't want to play games. I have a casserole in the oven. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. It's your choice."

"You can't prove anything, man. I have never hit her, and I can assure you that she has no bruises. You can go back to your casserole. Just leave us alone, old man, because I'm almost positive that you can't afford better lawyers than we can. Hell, you can't even be here without a warrant." Aspen laughed dryly.

Vincent's gaze didn't waver. Instead, he laughed. It wasn't like Adrian's laugh, though. It wasn't as light-hearted, like an acoustic guitar. Aspen raised an eyebrow. He was probably wondering why he was laughing when he had just straight up insulted him.

"I'm really sorry that you have more money than you have sense."