Children of Vice (Children of Vice #1)

“I’m sure. However, my parents were obsessed,” I told her, thinking back on it, though it was not hard to remember. “They were like two magnets. The minute one of them came into the room they automatically knew, and when they were close they were almost inseparable. They fought with each other physically and verbally just for the sole purpose of making up. If my mother went more than an hour without speaking with him she’d become irritated. My father refused to sleep until she came home. They walked at the same pace. Their eyes met at the same time. They even breathed evenly. I thought it was normal for the longest time, until I watched Toby’s parents get a divorce. I didn’t even really understand what that meant then. I thought it was maybe just them. But soon I came to realize that almost half of marriages failed and I was shocked. It was never in the realm of reality for our family.”

I hadn’t noticed I’d trailed off until she lifted her chin from my shoulder.

“Do you want a love like your parents’?”

“No.” I snickered, drinking, then remembered who I was speaking with. Of course she wasn’t pleased. “It sounds great to be loved like that. I’m sure it was great. Until my mother died. And, like you said, my father became a shell of the man he was. But that wasn’t even the worst. If he’d simply self-destructed I could have understood. Instead, he was…horrifying. He took out his anger on us, his children, like he blamed us for keeping him alive and not dying. He ripped us apart with vengeance. He sent Dona to a boarding school. And contently drove Wyatt and me against each other when we were together. And when I was with him, he’d blame me for defeating Wyatt. He’d ask me how I’d let my brother fail, meanwhile he’d asked me to make him fail. There was no peace. The day he died we all took a deep breath again. That is what his love did…and I want no part in it.”

“So never lov—”

“The point isn’t not to love…it’s not to obsess.”

She smiled and nodded. “I’ll let you know if you start obsessing over me.”

“I’m not the problem,” I said, grabbing my yogurt.

“Are you saying I am?”

“Have you seen me?”

She groaned, rolling her eyes and getting up. “I’m going to take a shower. Feel free to marry your own reflection or something.”

“I tried. Apparently it’s not legal in the state of—”

“Oh my God, you are annoying!” she yelled and laughed, stomping over to the bathroom. Smirking, I didn’t move and kept eating.

“I do hope you know this story is not for free,” I called out, grabbing an apple as I rose to my feet.

“What?”

Walking toward the shower, I watched as she stood under the water and as it rolled off the curve of her breast.

“My eyes are up here.”

“I know where your eyes are. I wasn’t looking at them,” I said, taking a bite out of the fruit in my hand.

“As you were saying?” She reached for my shampoo, just pouring the hundred-dollar bottle on her head.

“Give and take. You hear about my past, I’ll hear about yours once we get to Boston.”

“What?” She paused, her hands tangled in her hair.

“We leave for Boston first thing in the morning. Sorry, wife, but I like business with a side of pleasure.” I wanted to join her…badly. But the look of horror, anger, and anticipation kept me at bay. Leaving her, I walked back to my bed, picking up my phone, long since forgotten. Only three missed calls from Dona and one from my aunt Cora, which was followed by a text that they were gone with my grandmother.

Dialing, it rang once before he picked up.

“Sir?”

“Is everything ready?”

“Yes. I’ll be flying out—”

“No. You’ll stay here in Chicago. Report to Dona, let her know I’m leaving her to look over the house.” She’d know what that meant and hopefully it would cool her head off some. Dona wouldn’t fail. The problem was, just like a dog that had tasted blood, it was almost impossible to cage them again. “However, Tobias…don’t let her out of your sight.”

“Of course.”

“Good.”

“Ethan,” he called out before I could hang up. “Congratulations on your wedding, my friend.”

“You keep calling me that, but we are not friends.” I hung up, throwing the phone onto the bed.

Turning around, Ivy stood in my robe, which was so big on her it almost seemed as if she were drowning in it, her hair dripping wet and sticking to her face.

“Who’s dying first?”

“Anyone who won’t bow.”

The corner of her lip turned up, as did mine.

Boston was about to get very ugly.





SEVENTEEN


“I wanted movement and not a calm course of existence. I wanted excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love.”

~ Leo Tolstoy





TOBIAS


There are people in this world who refuse to walk the easy path. They see it in front of them. Many times they are even set upon it, given directions and simply told to walk. Yet they refuse. They prefer to struggle. They prefer to fight. They prefer to scream out in frustration and nearly die, going a much more painful route. Outsiders call them masochists. However, those people didn’t realize what people like me realized…there is nothing at the end of the easy path. Why? Because those who created that path stripped it of all it was worth on their way. Where the glory and wealth and power came from, that only came from the path of no return.

I chose that path long ago.

To be this person, to get this close…

It meant pain, but it was worth it. She was worth it.

“You said the pool house was the place things go to die,” I said, watching as she drank her red wine, her gaze never breaking from the pool in front of her. Small ripples spread through the surface of the water as she gently kicked her foot back and forth.

“You think I’ll kill myself?” she asked, drinking again.

“You love yourself far too much to die,” I replied, walking up the side of the pool toward her.

“True.” She nodded…finishing off her glass and picking up the bottle next to her and refilling her glass.

“Don’t you think that’s enough?”

“Would you ask my brother that question?”

“No.” I knew what she was trying to imply. “But only because I’m not in love with your brother. He can drink himself to death if he wants.”

She sighed, finally looking over at me. “What do you want, Toby?”

God, she fucking drove me up the wall sometimes. Standing beside her, I handed the cell phone over to her, which she took and read the message on it before dropping it in the water in front of her.

“I thought you’d be happy he’s leaving the keys to the kingdom to you.”

She scoffed. “Why would having my brother’s errand boy sending me a message from my own brother make me happy? In fact, if I had the strength I’d be furious. He can’t find me himself anymore.”

Do not let her pull you in. She wanted to fight. She was just itching to belittle someone to make her feel better. If I reacted I allowed her to choose me.

“He’s on his honeymoon with his wife. He hasn’t come out of their room all day.” Which was shocking in and of itself.

“Honeymoon.” She laughed bitterly. “The man who avoids love like the plague sure is adjusting well.”

“He’s never not loved you.”

“I’m family.”

“So is she.”

“Are you trying to make me feel better or piss me off?”

“Neither, just trying to make you see reason.”

She rose up to her feet, and though she was shorter, the way she looked at me you’d never realize it. “You think I’m being a brat.”

I didn’t reply.

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