Chapter 7 #2
I laugh, catching my breath, as I watch her freeze, her eyes wide.
“I hate you, Judas Harrington,” she says.
I shrug.
I hate myself, too, little sister.
She steps back to the tub and shuts off the water. When she turns, she tosses a towel at me. “Dry yourself and get to bed.”
She walks out, rubbing water from her arms.
I struggle to get out of the bathtub. My foot slips, but I catch myself on the edge and manage to stand. The cold shower helps, clears some of the fog, but my head still spins.
I hold onto the counter, pull the hoodie over my head, and dry myself with the towel. I tug my jeans off and stay in my boxers. When I leave the bathroom, she is already lying down.
I move toward the bed and collapse onto it again.
“Not this bed, you psycho,” she says, trying to lift me again, but I only manage to push her down with me.
My arms wrap around her, not letting her go.
She squirms, trying to get free. But I tighten my hands around her without thinking, my body refusing to cooperate with my brain.
“Fine,” she sighs. “But just tonight.”
She pulls the blanket closer to herself.
I’m too drunk to move. Too heavy to think about. I just close my eyes and fall asleep.
A soft breeze wakes me.
I groan, my head pounding from all the alcohol I drank last night. My mouth tastes bitter. When I squint my eyes open, I see Carmen already sitting on the bed. She is dressed, hair pulled back, watching me like she has been awake for a while.
“Good morning, asshole,” she whispers.
I chuckle and turn onto my side, facing away from her.
“You have to go to your room, Judas,” she says. “Catherine already texted me asking if we are up.”
Her voice barely reaches me. All I can think about is how my hands were wrapped around her all night, how her warmth still clings to me even now.
A soft knock comes from the door. I barely react.
“Who is it?” Carmen calls.
“William,” Dad says.
My eyes fly open.
“I came to apologize.”
Before I get the chance to move, before I can even sit up properly, the door opens, and he walks in.
He sees me rising from the bed in my boxer shorts. He sees Carmen sitting beside me. His lips part. His eyes move from me to her, then around the room. They land on the bathroom, on our clothes hanging there, still damp.
His face drains.
“No,” he says. “No. No. No.”
He lunges forward, grips Carmen under the arm, and yanks her up. “This ends now.”
Dad, stop, I sign, my hands shaking.
“Stop!” Carmen shouts. “We can explain!”
“What is there to explain?” he roars, dragging her toward the door. “I leave for one night and this is what I come back to?”
“Let go of me!” she yells.
I move before my brain catches up. The floor tilts as my feet hit it. I grab the bedpost, steady myself, and step between them.
Stop, I sign again.
He freezes when he sees my hands.
Carmen wrenches free and steps back. “He came home drunk,” she says. “He went into the wrong room. That’s all. “
Dad laughs, sharp and humorless. “You expect me to believe he came to your room by accident?”
I was drunk. I thought it was my room, I sign.
“Then why are you half-naked?” he demands.
She gave me a cold shower to sober me up.
“I don’t believe this shit,” he snarls. “I’m calling Simona. We’ll find you a new foster family.”
No. I sign immediately. She did nothing wrong. This is my fault.
Carmen folds her arms. “If you don’t believe us, that’s on you. But don’t touch me again.”
Dad exhales, dragging a hand down his face. The anger is still there, but something else slips through it. Fear, maybe.
“This can’t happen again,” he says finally, his voice lower. “Do you understand me?”
He knows exactly what this could do to him. To the perfect mask he puts on every morning before he walks out the door. Respected and untouchable Judge Harrington.
Not the man who adopted two problematic kids who end up crossing lines.
That would ruin him. And he knows it.
I can’t let him take her away. Not now. Not when I am this close to knowing her. I am still dumb. Still reckless. But I am not dumb enough to lose her.
We both nod.
Then he looks at me.
“You,” he says. “You’re coming with me to cool off.”
Why, I sign.
This time, he signs back. She’s your sister. This isn’t normal. I’m taking you away for a week so you can clear your head.
Fine, I sign back.
He hesitates, then steps toward the door. “Get dressed,” he mutters. “Both of you.”
He storms out, the door slamming hard behind him.
Carmen presses her palms to her head, staring at the wall as her fingers drag through her hair. “I can’t go back to juvie, Judas,” she says quietly. “You have to stop this.”
I move closer and crouch in front of her. I wipe the tear from her cheek and pull her against my chest.
“Is he going to hurt you?” She pushes me away for a second, panic flashing in her eyes. “Don’t go if he’s going to hurt you.”
She cares.
I grab her phone from the nightstand. I have no idea where mine is. I type slowly and move the screen to her face.
Nothing to worry about, little sister.
I stand and look at her.
“Promise?”
I place my palm on my chest and nod.
I take her hand and pull her toward me. She wraps her arms around me, burying her face against my chest.
“Text me, okay?”
I nod again.
I gently push her back, walk to the bathroom, grab my clothes, and leave her room. She stays sitting on the bed as I step out and pull the door shut behind me.
1. Asshole.