“Camden is pissing me off,” is all I offer him. If I tell him the real reason, it’ll be his turn to grill me.
“I’m sorry,” he replies softly. “Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
The awkward silence that descends upon us lets me know he’s waiting to see if I give in, taking him up on his offer to chat about my fucking problems. Too bad I won’t cave.
After about a minute, he sighs. “Okay, well, I was calling to let you know I’m flying home in the early morning unless I can get a red eye for tonight.”
“How did it go?”
A few days ago, Jules flew down to California to try to spend some time with Ryan. The two haven’t spoken a whole lot since Lorelei’s funeral—also known as the day Ryan learned about Jules and my relationship. He was hoping if he flew down there, they’d be forced to work through their differences and mend what little bit of relationship they have.
If he’s flying home a day above schedule, it’s probably safe to assume it didn’t go as well as he had hoped.
“Eh… we argued. A lot.”
“I’m sorry, Jules.” And I really try to mean it. My level of empathy has been pretty non-existent as of late. It makes me feel heartless. But I know Jules is having a tough time, and I need to at least try to be there for him.
Ryan is struggling with the loss of his mother, but he hasn’t lost both parents. Something he acts like he has. He’s so angry about our relationship, and I don’t get it. An initial burst of anger, sure. But we haven’t been friends in years, and we hooked uponce—somethinghesaid was a mistake—yet he refuses to get over it.
“It’s okay, pretty boy. Want to grab breakfast when I land tomorrow?”
“Um… yeah, we can for sure do… something.”
We hang up a few minutes later, a wave of exhaustion taking over. So, I turn on some music and pull my covers up, letting myself drift off into sleep.
******
I’m startled out of sleep by a loud noise. Checking my phone, it’s been three hours since I laid down.Shit.I really was tired.
What the hell was that?
It happens again… a loud pounding sound coming from in the living room. Pushing the covers off, I slide out of bed, pulling the door open. Neither of my roommates is in sight, the house completely silent, aside from the repeated pounding sound I now realize is coming from the front door. Running a hand through my unwashed hair, I meander over to the front door.
My heart stutters as I take in the large, hellish form behind the stained glass.
Charles.
What the hell is he doing all the way up here? This is hours out of his way.
The last time I saw him was right before school started. I refused to go home for Thanksgiving or Christmas, so I was able to avoid his presence then.
His fist lays another round of blows to the old wood door. “Open up, Bodhi!” he barks. “I can fucking see you standing there, you fucking dumbass.”
A shudder races down my spine as my stomach lurches to my throat. Unlocking the dead bolt, I pull open the door, coming face to face with my greatest tormentor. He’s never been to my house. Ever. I don’t even know how he found the address.
When I don’t say anything or move aside to let him in, he scoffs. “Aren’t you going to invite your brother in?” His words are laced with vile poison, eyes locked on mine, beady and menacing.
“What do you want, Charles?”
“I want,” he starts, shoving me back hard enough that I lose my balance, falling on my ass, “for you to let me in like the good little fucking brother you should be.” Stepping over me, he takes it upon himself to enter my house.
My pulse is racing, the sound deafening in my ears. Whatever his reasoning, this can’t be good. My fight-or-flight kicks into gear immediately. The urge to flee is strong, but I have nowhere to go. He’s inmy home.
As I get to my feet, ignoring the way my ass is radiating a bone-deep pain from the fall, he sits in the recliner to the left of the couch, a wicked grin sliding onto his face, making him appear more evil than he already is.
Charles rubs his chin, looking off like he’s deep in thought. “Wanna hear something funny?” he asks, but I doubt he’s looking for an actual response. That point made clear when he continues. “Dad’s out of town this week, and I’m running the dealership like I always do when he’s gone.”
