“Papà, Bash is being mean to me,” I cried.
Sebastian’s eyes flared with resentment. His perfectly square jaw, which he inherited from my father, tightened as he glared. It was his turn to roll his eyes.
“Oh, now you’ve found your voice. How convenient.”
“What on earth is going on? You know your sister is sensitive,” Father boomed, a hint of reproach in his voice.
“Sensitive? No, what she is, is a brat. And you and Mother have spoiled her to the point where she is rotten.”
“That’s enough, Son,” my father chastised before directing his next words to me. “Love bug, what’s wrong? Talk to Papà.”
This only made my brother fume even more, and I grinned at him while I spoke to our father.
“Papà, I can’t stay here. I want to go home, and Bash is trying to stop me. I don’t care if you and Mama aren’t there. Please don’t make me stay.”
I fake sobbed, knowing my father would do the right thing.
“Oh, no, you don’t. Father, I swear if you could see her right now, she has a smirk the size of Buckingham Palace plastered to her face.”
“Traitor,” I whispered as he chuckled.
My father released a deep sigh. He understood more than anyone else that when I made my mind up, I made it up. He also knew I wouldn’t last a night at home by myself without having a full panic attack.
“Love bug, your mother and I are only going to be gone a few more days. Is it that serious?”
“Yes, it is. I don’t want to be here another second.”
My father sighed. “I’ll send Sampson to pick you up.”
Sebastian disconnected the call and shook his head in disappointment. I continued putting my clothes in the suitcase, throwing them in haphazardly. It would take Sampson about twenty minutes, give or take, to get here. My ass planned on being outside waiting for him.
“Bella, how much longer are you going to do this? You can’t keep running.”
“Watch me, big brother,” I mumbled under my breath, moving over to the bathroom.
He followed me. “I have a serious question for you. Do you plan to keep using your past as an excuse to control Mum and Dad forever?” His words cut through the space.
I clenched my jaw, refusing to meet his gaze. There was so much truth to his words. They stung, but the panic inside me refused to allow me to answer. Instead, I grabbed my makeup bag and other bathroom items and kept on packing.
If I focused on the task at hand, then I could manage the attack that was threatening to consume me. Bash leaned against the doorframe, blocking my path, his expression tense.
“Do you have any idea what they’ve given up for you? Their entire lives revolve around you, are dedicated to ensuring you feel safe. The only friends they have now are the Kings. And it’s all to make sure you’re comfortable.”
Damn him. I glared and then tried to move around him. But he wasn’t budging. I counted to twenty inside my head and took a deep breath. It was easier for me to retreat and shut down. It was all I knew how to do.
“What kind of life is this?” he continued, softening his voice. “You’re so blindsided by the fact that your sense of control is fake. It’s not real. You think you’ve got this fortress built around you, keeping you safe in a cocoon? It’s not real, Sissy. You have to manipulate everyone around you to get the results you crave. Mum and Dad let you. But I won’t. You call this false sense of control a safety measure, but it’s just a prison. One of your own doing.”
My throat closed tight, and I blinked back tears. He had no idea the extent his words had on me at that moment. He may as well have punched me. The struggle to keep my emotions in check and not fall to my knees was monumental.
Why did it have to be her?
He raked his hand through his hair, and his frustration mounted with my silence. “What happens when Mum and Dad are gone?”
I gasped. That reality was far away. Our parents weren’t that old. I wanted to scream at him to shut the hell up.
“Do you think this can go on forever? Damn, don’t you want a future? A life outside of this one?”
Our eyes locked, and my coping mechanisms, which truly ran the show, reared their defiant heads.
