Chapter 4 Ali
Ali
It took hours even to put a dent in the makeup work I needed to finish. I texted Sixx back whenever he messaged me, ate all the snacks he’d brought me the night before, and avoided both my parents.
Dad tried to text a few times, apologizing for eating the chips, asking if I wanted anything extra when he ordered pizza, telling me to come eat.
I ignored his efforts, telling myself I had every right to stay mad.
Rational or not—admittedly it was more on the not side—I was pissed.
He should have known. Not the what—I didn’t expect them to be mind readers, for fuck’s sake—but he should have sensed that there was something wrong.
It didn’t matter that I was trying my best to hide it. Parents were supposed to know.
Even though I was terrified of them knowing. Of anyone finding out.
So I stayed mad, ignoring the guilt that was starting to rival the dread that felt like an anvil sitting on my belly. Anger was easier to process than the plethora of other emotions swirling around inside me, making it impossible to be coherent.
Mom tried to get my attention as well, but I was mad at her too.
Only, I didn’t have a plausible reason for it.
Dad had provided one with the chips, so I could get away with it.
He accepted that because he had decades of dealing with women and their cycles.
Abi and I had used our periods as excuses for things from day one, at least where Dad was concerned.
Mom didn’t let us get away with that kind of stuff—she knew better—but she didn’t step in and save Dad when we used it on him.
He was a grown man, and he could figure it out on his own. Or not. Usually, it was not.
Mostly, I’d avoided my mom as much as possible, and because she was busy with work and getting everything in order before the upcoming tour, I was able to slide under her radar.
Something I was thankful for. But I was also angry about it.
Logic didn’t play into it. I freaking knew I was being stupid.
Admitting what was going on wasn’t an option.
Being confronted and forced to spill my guts on every microdetail of the stress, the pressure, the fear… Well, that was different.
If they would just pay attention, they would know I wasn’t okay.
And I was so very terrified that they would, and then Sixx would find out and do something that would take him away from me. In the end, it was my fear of losing Sixx that kept me quiet, hoping it would all go away, resolve itself.
The sun was coming up when I finally fell asleep.
My brain was cloudy from all the information I’d force-fed it, primarily science.
Cursed Biology. I passed out on my bed surrounded by open textbooks, discarded candy wrappers, and empty bottles of sports drinks.
At some point, the doorbell woke me up. Disoriented, I snapped my head up, trying to make sense of where I was and why there was a crick in my neck.
“Kin!” Something in Dad’s voice sent a chill through me. Stomach in knots, I jumped out of bed and rushed out of my room.
They know. Oh crap, they know.
That thought kept playing in my head as I paused at the stairs to listen.
But instead of hearing continued shouting, I only heard Mom’s softer tone as she spoke to my sister.
Abi wasn’t supposed to be home for at least another week.
She had school, final exams at college upstate at Trinity University.
Her choice of schools had confused me. I’d thought she would stay close to home, close to Hayat, but she’d fallen in love with Creswell Springs and was determined to attend the Ivy League-scale private university in the small town where Uncle Lyric lived.
“Honey, talk to us. Are you hurt?” Mom was crouched down in front of Abi, Dad beside her, worry tightening both their faces.
“I’m tired,” I thought I heard her whisper. She looked like hell. Hair crazy, clothes wrinkled like she’d been wearing them for days, her face a sickly color.
“Why are you yelling down here?” I demanded, descending the stairs in a rush. “Abi? What are you doing home?”
“I’m tired,” she said again, just as quietly. Scrubbing her hands over her face, she blinked a few times, her blue eyes wrecked. “Can I go to bed for a little while? We can talk later?”
Obviously, something bad had happened. My big sister didn’t run from anything, ever. She ran toward danger, typically with Hayat right beside her, leading the charge. Together, those two were fearless, and I’d almost confided in them so many times I’d lost count over the past weeks.
Looking at my sister now, I was glad I hadn’t. She was definitely going through her own shit, and it was on a level that outweighed mine.
“Sure, sweetheart,” Dad murmured, assisting Abi to her feet. “Do you need help?”
“I’m okay.” One look at her was proof enough that it was a lie, but she started up the stairs, leaving our parents at the bottom looking about as confused and helpless as I felt right then.
I followed after her, sensing she needed me, closing the door once we were in her room. “Abi, you look like hell.” She swayed. “Jesus Christ.”
She stumbled her way to the bed, tripping over her own feet as she kicked off her shoes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
For a long moment, I stood there, watching her struggle to get into bed and pull the covers over herself. She bit back a frustrated sob as her head hit her pillow, the sound echoing inside me, matching all the chaotic feelings I’d been suppressing for months.
“Did someone hurt you?” I demanded, half afraid of the answer.
Abi turned away. “I just want to sleep.”
Climbing into bed beside her, I did what I’d been secretly hoping someone would do for me. I wrapped my arms around her. “What can I do?”
She shook her head, choking back another sob, and closed her eyes.
What the fuck had happened to my sister?