But I’m the founder of the ethically black school they tried to enroll in, so I end up winning anyway. Three times in a row.
Glyndon throws her cards on the small table. “Ugh, this is no fun. Do you have to win every round?”
“How else would he be a dickhead?”
“Don’t be sore losers, doesn’t look nice.” I grin.
“Oh, screw you.” She releases a breath. “We should play a round just the two of us, Gareth.”
“Request denied,” I say.
“Well, you just keep winning. The game becomes boring that way.”
“Never mind him. Killer just doesn’t physically recognize the term holding back, especially when he’s jealous. This is him being territorial to prove a point.”
“I’m going to kill you,” I mouth, and he just smiles, a fake-ass one.
“Seriously?” Glyndon glares at me. “You’re being a complete bloody wanker for some baseless jealousy?”
“We’ll see how baseless it is when my dear big bro is floating in the air.”
“Stop threatening people’s lives just because you can, Killian. And this is your brother, so how about you treat him as such instead of like some enemy?” She points a finger at me. “Also, either you play normally or you’ll lose all privileges to ever play with us.”
I consider whether I want to kiss the fuck out of her or choke her right now. Probably both at the same time.
Gareth raises a brow. “Looks like you’ve finally met your match. Mom and Dad will love her.”
“Are you sure?” Glyndon gathers the cards, her tone awkward. “He didn’t tell me beforehand, so I couldn’t even change into appropriate clothes.”
“What’s wrong with your current clothes?” I steal a switch card, because no, I’m definitely not letting them win anytime soon.
“You don’t get opinion rights.” She makes a face, then grabs my hand, reaches under my sleeve, and snatches back the card I stole. “And no cheating. Seriously, can’t you take a chill pill?”
“I do, when I’m fucking your brains out. Wanna go to the bathroom?”
“Too much information,” Gareth says.
“You can always leave, and go back to your nerdy activities.”
“No and no, and did I mention no?” Glyndon says in a mocking voice even though her neck is red. “Now, let’s play.”
Gareth manages to win once, only because Glyndon actually searched my pants for the stolen cards.
To say she’s become bold is an understatement. And it’s definitely not because I’m taking it easy on her.
She’s just growing more into herself and into this wrecking force that’s coming after my life.
By the time we prepare to land, she manages to win and rubs it in our faces and gloats until we think she’ll do it till kingdom come.
“Feels good to be a winner.” She fastens her seatbelt at the flight attendant’s call.
I tighten it further around her waist. “You actually won the least between the three of us and only because you stole more cards than we could.”
“I’m sorry, what? I can’t hear you over the victory fireworks in my head.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Stop being adorable before I fuck you right here, right now.”
“Don’t do that,” she whisper-yells. “Ugh. I can’t stop remembering that many airplane crashes happened while trying to land.”
“Then I guess you should hold my hand, hmm?” I offer her my palm and she takes it, threading her fingers through mine and tucking it in her lap.
Full-blown satisfaction fills my system at the thought of being her anchor.
It isn’t some Prince Charming, a boring type, or another man.
Me.
The feeling of complete euphoria slowly dulls down with the reminder of where we’re going.
Fucking home.
It’s strange how the mind categorizes events and shoves them into boxes of archives. Some are forgotten after a day or a week.
Others stay there forever. In fact, they slip into subconsciousness and make sure they’re never forgotten.
My family home on the outskirts of New York City is a modern mansion that could tick the dream house checklist of most Americans. It even has the white fence cliché my mother probably dreamt of when she was young.
It’s huge, personalized to the smallest detail, and fit to be the home of Asher and Reina Carson. As in, the American king and queen who instantly become the talk of every media outlet the moment they’re in public.
In this house, I’ve had everything people would consider happy memories. A loving mother, a present father—more than need be—birthday parties, running around like headless chickens with Gareth, Nikolai, Mia, and Maya.
And my awakening by hunting and killing those mice.
People tend to romanticize the past, I don’t. Because those memories? They’re nothing more than yellowed pages in an old forgotten book.
The only thing I remember from this house is Mom’s terrified expression, Dad’s frown, and eventually his ‘we shouldn’t have had Killian’ and ‘he’s defective’ words.
Leaving for college was the best thing that ever happened to me. I needed to stay out of Dad’s orbit, away from the constant ticking bomb that goes off in my head whenever he’s in sight.
So the last place I want to be in is his house.
But since I’m proving a point to the infuriating little shit Glyndon, here we fucking go.
She remains a step behind us, getting distracted by watching the house with her inquisitive eyes.
And yes, she definitely made us stop by a shop so she could change into a floral dress, smooth her hair and makeup, and buy a gift.
“My parents taught me to never go into someone’s home empty-handed,” she said when I told her the gift was unnecessary.
A small sound of tap, tap reaches us first before a model-like woman with the shiniest blonde hair appears, coming down the stairs.
Mom’s smile is the most contagious thing I’ve ever seen. Usually, other people’s emotions don’t matter to me. Yes, I can discern them, can even understand them when their owners can’t, but I don’t give a fuck about them.
Reina Ellis Carson is the exception to that.
And now, Glyndon is, too.
Mom wraps both Gareth and me in a hug, her head resting on our shoulders. She’s shorter than us, so we have to lower ourselves to pat her back so she doesn’t have to strain, or worse, dangle between us.
No kidding, she did that once.
“I missed you so much!” She pulls back to run her hand over our bodies. “Let me look at you. Did you get taller or what? I can’t believe this. Next time, I’ll get a staircase to reach you. Ahh, my boys are back home together. I couldn’t believe it when Gareth told me earlier.”
She hugs us again and I share a look with my brother.
Here we go again.
After basically strangling us for five minutes, she finally notices Glyndon, who has tried her best to remain in the background during Mom’s welcome home ceremony.
I didn’t think it possible, but Mom’s expression brightens further. “And you are?”