6. Revelations
Revelations
Zade
I can feel her eyes swinging from the computer screen and back to me. My hand moves the mouse around, sliding to the playback feed. I want to know who the fucker in her room was.
“Zade,” she says in a soft, scared voice. “Please explain this. Why the fuck do you have cameras in my room?”
Sighing, I bring one hand to rub at my brows. Tension snakes into my shoulders. I’ve dreaded this moment since I planted the first camera. Cowardice urged me to keep facing forward to avoid the disgust no doubt painting her face.
But I can’t sign to her if I’m facing away from her. And she deserves to know the truth. She’s experienced enough of a fright tonight. The last thing I want is for her to fear her big brother, too. And really, I didn’t have nefarious intentions.
For all intents and purposes, she’s my sister, and my parents would kill me if I harmed a strand of hair on her perfect head. Hell, I’d kill anyone who hurt her. So, I swivel the chair around to face her, bracing for her reaction .
Her pink, full lips are parted, and her chest moves up and down rapidly as she processes what she’s seeing. A red flush stains her skin.
I’m not a creep .
I think that’s a good start, but the hardness entering her eyes tells me she doesn’t believe it for a moment.
I’m not! I sign emphatically, lips forming a scowl.
I just— I stop. What exactly was I just? I was just invading your privacy because, for some odd reason, despite not being my blood sister, you have a similar effect on me as our mother?
“Zade,” she growls, hands fisting at her side. Right. She deserves the truth. This is Soriah. Sweet, gentle Siri, who’s always been a haven for me, and I’ve tried reciprocating when she needed it. I can’t—won’t—bullshit her.
I start over with, You calm me.
I can’t explain it better than that. I wasn’t being a creep. But sometimes, when it gets hard for me, I turn the cameras on and just watch you. Looking at you reading, folding clothes or surfing the net eases something. It gives me something other than the hallucinations to focus on.
And when you’re talking or humming— My hands freeze, and this time, a flush spreads across my cheeks. I chance a glance at her face, and while her lips press into a straight line, some of the anger fled her eyes.
It helps a lot, and I can’t tell you how much I’ve leaned on it as a crutch. It was wrong, and I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I’ve never watched you doing anything intimate or private .
My eyes drop to my lap. Whenever she’d start to undress, walk out of the bathroom with only a towel on, or snake her hand into her nightstand, I’d cut the feed.
A queer feeling would settle low in my belly, but I’d get up from my computer and go somewhere else in the house to avoid the temptation to watch something I had no business seeing.
Feet shuffle closer, and I jerk my eyes up to her stony face. Her hand closes around the handle of the discarded knife lying across my desk. My eyes widen when she thrusts it forward, the sharp tip denting the skin covering my Adam’s apple. It bobs nervously and my cock twitches.
Fuck. Siri’s got a knife to my throat and now my cock wants to wake up?
“How old was I when you installed them?” she asks. The knife tip wavers slightly, belying her nervousness. I lean forward, pulling a gasp from her when blood wells from a shallow cut, dripping into the hollow of my throat.
You were fourteen , I sign. I’m not ashamed of that.
It was after Zephyr moved out.
I wait, blood dripping slowly from where the knife nicked me.
Her eyes narrow, and I let a smile spread across my face. If she’s going to slash my throat because I placed cameras in her room after my twin moved out, then she hadn’t been paying attention. I might’ve loathed my brother’s presence, but it provided me with necessary distractions.
I hadn’t anticipated the quiet following his departure. The voices quickly filled it, flooding my mind. Until Siri. I used her presence against my mental illness, wielding it like a weapon to wrestle my sanity back.
“As soon as we figure out who the fuck was in my room and they’re apprehended, you’re removing the cameras,” she snaps, stepping back and tossing the knife back down. I cock a brow, smirking at her.
You’re leaving, moving on campus. Why would it matter if they’re still there after you leave?
She aims a frown at my hands and brings her own to her hips.
“I’ll still come home for the holidays. And what are you going to do when I move out? Install cameras in my dorm room?” she asks, sounding exasperated. At least she’s no longer angry. And I don’t sign back at her, swinging my chair to face the computer again.
“Zade,” she snarls, moving closer in my periphery. I think it went without saying that I considered doing exactly what she suggested.
“You better fucking not or I will tell Mom,” she warns. My head turns, eyes narrowing on her. She fucking wouldn’t.
Her lips lift upward in a smirk, arms moving from her hips to cross over her chest, pushing her small breasts up. My eyes dart down, and I jerk them back to the computer.
Fuck. Now’s not the time to ogle my sister’s breasts.
A short-sleeved, midriff nightshirt stops right above her belly button, paired with cute pink satin pajama shorts that have bunnies on them.
She’d looked kind of fierce and hot, holding me at knifepoint despite her bed clothes giving off girl-next-door vibes.
My sister’s not hot , I tell my brain, fingers flying over my keyboard before reaching for my mouse to pinpoint the exact time of the invasion.
“Zade,” she says. “Promise me you won’t, or I’ll tell Mom.” Growling under my breath, not that she can hear it, I whirl around and sign an affirmative. I’ll just have to be stealthy about it, but I give her the reassurance she’s asking for.
Suspicion lines her face, but she gives me a thankful nod. Good. The challenge of setting them up without getting caught while she’s suspicious will be part of the thrill. But I am installing fucking cameras in her dorm and hacking the ones on campus so I can monitor her at all times.
Someone’s got to keep her safe.
Soriah
I watch Zade work in silence, holding back my horror at image after image of me in my room. He slows down and speeds up the videos, eyes focused on the screen, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
My eyes trace his profile, abandoning the computer screen. I didn’t believe him for one minute when he promised to stop stalking me after the intruder gets caught. Maybe it was the odd gleam in his eye that tipped me off or the smile twitching his full lips.
But Zade will keep watching me.
I don’t know what to do with that information.
Or the fear still parading through my veins as I glance back at the screen.
Someone was in our home, in my bedroom. And I don’t think this was some random break-in.
By the way, Zade’s nostrils keep flaring as he hunts for video confirmation, I don’t think he thinks that, either.
A sinking feeling fills my gut, threatening to drag me into a pool of despair. The intruder was there for me .
“Zade,” I whimper, tears pricking my eyes when I catch sight of a shadow separating from my bedroom wall. A hand brushes mine, and I jump back instinctively, eyes never leaving the screen.
Zade’s hand reaches for me again, and this time, I don’t put up a fight, letting him drag me forward until my legs have no choice but to bend and land me in his lap.
A shudder travels through me, and his arms embrace me, holding me close to his chest as we both continue watching the intruder standing near my bed while I sleep unaware.
On the screen, a gloved hand stretches out to trail a finger along my cheek. I move on the bed, causing the masked man to jump back and take cautious steps toward the balcony door. Shadows conceal him, and when my eyes blink open slowly, he slips through the open doors.
The same terror I felt in that moment seizes me again as I relive it. It’s surreal watching a pixelated version of myself stumble toward the bedroom door, fear tightening my face and my mouth gaping open as if I was calling out for my brother.
Zade’s arms tighten around me. His chest vibrates against me. I look up at the fury twisting his face. Light catches the crimson streaks on his pale skin, but he stares at the screen like it doesn’t bother him. I cut him, and he’d grinned at me without a hint of fear .
Why do my nipples tighten when playing back that maniacal gleam in his eyes?
That wasn’t hot. It wasn’t.
I lean forward, burying my face into his chest. His hands smooth down my back and the back of my head like he used to do when I was little, a silent, steady comfort. Like I’d been for him without realizing it in the days after Zephyr left home.
I’m not even upset about the cameras. I’m more pissed that he hadn’t asked.
Because if he had, I probably would’ve said yes upon hearing his reasoning.
Zade had never acted in any way that wasn’t brotherly toward me.
Even now, curled up in his lap, butt resting on his cock, I don’t feel like he’s even remotely attracted to me.
Objectively, he’s handsome. But if given the chance—my eyes jerk up toward his sharp features—would I accept more than sisterly affection from him?
Emerald eyes snap down to look into mine, catching me off guard and causing a flush. Fuck. He’d caught me ogling him.
Instead of calling me out on it, he signs a message that has my flush deepening.
You’re sleeping in here tonight. And I’m setting alarms to go off anytime there’s movement in your bedroom or the other cameras in the house. I’ll set some up in here as well. Do you need anything from your room?
Oh, God.
I haven’t slept in Zade’s bed since… Gosh. I guess since before Zephyr left.
Did my nightmares stop, or did I just stop running to my brother’s room for comfort now that I was older and it felt less appropriate?
I don’t even know how our parents would react to finding me in Zade’s bed as a fully grown woman.
It’d definitely be awkward since, as far as they’re concerned, they’ve raised me my entire life alongside their own children, never distinguishing between an adopted child and a biological child.
They only informed me I was adopted when they thought I was mature enough to handle the information, but they made it clear I am their child.
I never questioned it and never felt less loved. Even Lauren treats me like a sister, and there’s nearly a thirty-year age gap between us.
“Zade—” His hand slices through the air, cutting off any rebuttal I was attempting to make.
No. No buts. If I have to chain you to my damn bed, I will, so don’t make me. Answer the question. What do you need from your room?
My mouth drops open, and my nipples harden even further. Fuck. I’ve never known Zade to be so assertive, and the thought of him shackling me nearly makes me squirm in his lap.
“N-nothing,” I squeak out, lowering my face so he can’t make out the blush that’s spreading to encompass my ears.
I’m in so much fucking trouble.