Chapter 17
?
That’s it. I’m boycotting family dinners.
Zakery
Well then. Call me a liar.
Viktor, actually, appears to care quite a bit about my non-existent love life, judging by the way he’s broodily staring at Maelin and me. It’s rude of him, honestly, and I think Crisis knows it, because she stabs him in the ribs with her elbow.
“Yes, sweet pea?” he asks, continuing to watch me.
My amazing soon-to-be-sister beams. “Pass the butter?”
The fool picks up the butter dish, ignorant to the butter knife balancing atop it. As he moves the dish toward Crisis, that knife falls, hits the spoon leaning precariously in the mixed veggies, and sends a rain of carrots, peas, and green beans over his fiancée.
Who.
You know.
Shakes them out of her dark hair, takes the butter, retrieves the knife, and says, “Thank you.”
Beside me, Maelin—who I have been guarding like crazy in Crisis’s vicinity—gapes.
Viktor, no longer staring at us, says, “I’m so sorry, Crisis. Are you okay?”
Having the tact of a freight train, Kyran rolls his eyes, saws into his brisket with the side of his fork, and says, “What is going on?”
I point my fork at Crisis. “Our beloved almost-sister is taking baths in her food again. Aren’t you paying attention?”
That earns me a solid glare. “I thought we valued communication in this house.”
Kaleb, ever the observant one among us, murmurs, “Kyran…some things can’t be talked about in front of some people.”
Maelin shrinks.
And that pisses me off.
Kyran mutters, “That’s stupid. Why are we having dinner with people if we can’t talk in front of them?”
“Brother dear,” I say, smiling daggers, “ shut up .”
“It doesn’t help anyone to keep anything pent up inside.” Kyran’s eyes narrow. “That’s how people wind up like you .”
Dropping my fork and knife on my plate with a clatter, I stand. “Okay. Well, dinner has been delightful .” I turn to Maelin. “Would you like more of anything, princess?”
Stiff, terrified, she shakes her head.
I scoop a bit more of everything onto her plate, grab it and her silverware, then step away from the table. “We’ll finish upstairs.”
“No eating in your room,” Viktor states.
“You’ll get over it. Come on, Maelin.”
Her attention flicks between Viktor and me.
I grit, “Stand.”
She jolts to her feet, chair legs skidding against the flooring.
I smile. “Thank you, princess. Sorry for my tone. Your legs weren’t working.” I grab her hand, spitting toward Viktor, “I expected better from you.”
“You will forgive my shock,” he mutters, “all things considered.”
“I will not, all things considered.”
Viktor, also, stands. “Kyran’s right.”
Kyran mumbles into his brisket. “Thank you.”
“Please use your knife,” Kaleb whispers.
“You’re not my dad.”
“Thank—” Kaleb swears, “—for that.”
The edge of Kyran’s lips soften as he picks up his knife.
Viktor says, “Let’s talk about this.”
Maelin squeezes my hand.
I say, “I’d rather not, given the audience.”
Maelin whispers, “I’m so sorry. I— I fell. I know that sounds like a lie, but it’s the truth. I fell.”
“You fell onto Zakery’s bed so perfectly it looked as though he’d just been on top of you?” Viktor arches a brow.
Kyran freezes, looks up at me, blinks once.
“Viktor,” Kaleb says, “it sounds like you’re accusing her .”
“Let me rephrase then. Zakery, with no help at all, Maelin fell under you?”
Kyran’s hand rises.
I snap, “No, you cannot ask any clarifying questions.”
His hand returns to his fork, and he nudges his meat around, despondent.
Crisis interjects, “This is making everyone uncomfortable.”
“There’s still a pea in your hair,” I mutter.
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Viktor says, assessing his fiancée, locating the pea, and retrieving it.
Crisis rolls her eyes. “Here, I’ll fix everything. Maelin, Zakery, was whatever happened upstairs consensual?”
That makes me freeze. Because…I am not actually sure. Stiff, I glance back at Maelin, whose attention remains fixed on the floor. Crushing my hand, she softly says, “Um…y-yes.”
“Great. Then everyone sit down .”
Yes?
If the slow descent back into my chair counts, consider me sat. And baffled. And staring at Maelin as she also drops gingerly back into her seat.
Yes.
Yes, it was consensual.
Unless she’s just saying that to appease my family?
My gaze travels to our joined hands. She has yet to let go. She’s holding onto me like a lifeline. Maybe it really was then?
“I’m not upset ,” Viktor says, grumpily. “I’m just…conflicted.”
“Why?” I challenge.
“I thought I raised you better than this.”
That almost makes me laugh. Although I can’t argue that Viktor very much did raise the rest of us, it is still very much out of left field whenever he blatantly mentions it.
“I’m sorry.” Kyran cuts his fingers through his shoulder-length dark hair and peers between Maelin and I. “Why do we care if you two were boinking before dinner?”
Kaleb chokes on his food and reaches, coughing, for his glass of water. I think he’s subduing a laugh, but I am not sure.
“We weren’t boinking ,” I declare, exasperated. “Maelin tripped onto me while I was sleeping. I got confused in the aftermath. The end. Nothing happened.” I may have kissed her throat. That’s certainly something , but also none of this is anyone’s business.
“Why was she in your room while you were sleeping?” Kyran presses.
I narrow my eyes on him. “You were my favorite brother. Once .”
He exhales the idea of a laugh and continues eating, as though he truly gets a kick out of watching the world burn, which is wild because I could have sworn that was more Lukas’s thing. Yet, if Lukas were here, we wouldn’t be so tense right now. As second oldest, somehow Lukas’s drops of madness and easy smiles balance Viktor’s terse attitude well enough to keep tensions down no matter what’s going on.
I miss Lukas.
I can’t believe there are still months until he’s done with his stupid tour and can come home again. I’m looking forward to seeing him at the Creator’s Ball. I hope saying goodbye after that won’t make the chasm of his absence more prevalent.
At least missing him feels like something? I guess I just wish it didn’t hurt so bad when I feel things.
Softly, into the thick silence, Maelin says, “I was going to wake him, but then I didn’t know how.”
“Have you tried a bucket of ice water?” Crisis offers, helpfully. “Kaleb has plenty of buckets.”
“I do have plenty of buckets.” Kaleb finishes his plate, rising to take it to the sink. “I’ve learned not to lend them out.”
Crisis’s lip juts.
Before leaving the table, Kaleb looks at me, says, “Use protection,” then looks at Viktor, “Quit pressuring them. They’ll figure life out on their own. We’re all too old for you to keep raising us. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in the garden, feeding the fish.”
Crisis scoots her chair back. “Can I come?”
“I’ll take that out, too,” Kyran says, joining them, leaving just Maelin, Viktor, and me behind.
Breathing gets harder, so I force myself to say, “What happened to supporting me?”
“I can’t support you if you aren’t honest with me.”
“When did I lie to you?”
“You told me nothing was going on two days ago.”
Well. A lot can change in two days.
Maelin whispers, “You…were talking about me two days ago?” Her beautiful gaze searches mine. “Have I done something wrong?” She shifts her attention to Viktor. “I promise I haven’t asked for anything beyond a job for my sister. Everything else has just sort of…happened.”
Forcing his tone to soften, Viktor says, “It’s okay, Maelin. I know. Zakery is…” His gaze hardens before it hits me. “ Unique .”
“Viktor is under the impression that I am a terrible person,” I say. “Since I am soulless and devoid of emotion, I leave a trail of broken hearts wherever I go. Fans, time and again, throw themselves at me.” And I’m still trying to decide if that’s better or worse than when they throw their undergarments on me. “I’m the prince of the Bachelor brothers. I receive love letters regularly. I shred them because pink paper makes pretty confetti. Viktor doesn’t want you to become another victim under my spell.”
“You struggle with identifying your emotions,” Viktor mutters. “Why are we painting me like I’m the bad guy for understanding something you yourself accept as fact?”
I don’t know. Maybe because right now I really, really hate that fact? Maybe because right now Maelin is holding my hand, and I don’t know why but I never want to let go? Maybe because her emotional pain feels more real than my physical pain ever has, and I desperately need it to go away? Maybe because I don’t know.
Biting back the revolt in my stomach, I say, “Viktor is trying to make sure you don’t get hurt, Maelin. That’s all that’s really happening here. He saw us in a precarious situation after not a long time at all, knows that I can’t possibly feel anything of substance for you since it takes me longer than a week to even recognize that I’m in physical pain, and is trying to address the situation before it gets out of hand. He’s a good big brother like that.”
“When Zakery was twelve, his appendix burst,” Viktor murmurs, eyes going dark. “He didn’t even notice the signs. Once Lukas and I managed to get him to the hospital, he was diagnosed with sepsis. Kaleb had just left home. We didn’t know if you were going to make it. We didn’t know if Kyran would be okay, alone with our parents. It was terrifying. Every single part. And what did you tell us when you woke up from surgery?”
Stiff, I force a breath into my lungs. “I said I was sorry I didn’t realize sooner. I really thought it was a tummy ache.”
“Yeah. You walked into the hospital with us with a burst appendix and told the doctors we were overreacting. You said your pain was a two, but we were worried about the fever, so we dragged you in. You smiled. Pleasantly. The entire time.”
Just like Mommy and Daddy trained me to. “I’ve…gotten better about being in tune with my emotions, haven’t I?”
“Yes. But I don’t think I’m being overly difficult. Do you?”
I stare at Maelin’s hand in mine for several long moments, then I shake my head. “No.”
“I just want to make sure both of you are okay. And aware.”
“I…appreciate that, Viktor. Really. It was just an accident. Promise.”
He rises, reaching for what remains of the main course. “I believe you. But if anything less than accidental occurs, please, Maelin, understand how Zakery is, and, Zakery…follow Kaleb’s advice.”
“Ew.”
Viktor shrugs.
“You raised me better than to dare to have relations with a woman I’m not married to.”
He heads toward the fridge to package the leftovers in tupperware. “I sure hope so. I also hope I raised you to help clear the table.”
I look at the neglected plates and leftover food. Only Kaleb cleared his place setting. He’s officially my new favorite brother. Sighing, I turn to Maelin.
Her eyes are already on me, searching, boring, peeling me apart. “Are you okay?” I ask, possibly feeling sick, but who knows? As previously addressed, I’m not good at identifying that sort of thing.
Silent, she nods.
“Are you still hungry?”
Her head shakes.
“Are you sure?” I press. “I’m sorry about this. But it’s no reason for you to go hungry. Everyone means well. No one’s in trouble.”
Her lips part; she wets them. “Can we…talk after we clean up?” Her gaze cuts toward Viktor. “Privately?”
Great. That can’t be good. But, still, I nod. “Of course.”