5. Silas #2
My body quickly adjusted to the temperature change as I walked to the garage around the corner where I’d parked my Lexus.
The car itself wasn’t anything special, but the details I’d installed on it were.
Wrapped in a special vinyl, the color came off darker than most blacks and the windows were all tinted to prevent anyone from seeing inside.
Aesthetically, each decision I’d made about the appearance was solely based on my personality, but the fact that it fit so perfectly for my current situation, wasn’t lost on me.
Turning the engine on, I settled in and tried to think of anything but her.
The drive should’ve helped, but it didn’t.
In fact, it only made things worse. My head felt full of static—clearing only to show glimpses of her face as I hit the freeway.
Those damn brown eyes, so full of life. I wanted to carve them out with my fingers.
No matter what I tried, she stayed at the forefront of my thoughts, like she had every right to be there.
In response, I turned up the music until it was louder than necessary.
I didn’t stop turning the dial until it reached a volume that rattled the mirrors and drowned out all thoughts.
I focused on the road, and the red lights blurring together.
When that didn’t help, I tightened my grip on the wheel and forced my mind elsewhere.
The club's inventory. The dinner I was approaching. Security rotations. Anything that didn’t feel like heat behind my ribs.
By the time I pulled onto my street, my jaw ached from being clenched for too long.
As my house came into view, my body relaxed slightly.
This was the residence where I’d grown up, my home away from the club.
Being here always gave me a weird sense of comfort.
Maybe it was because it was the only part of me left that was sentimental, or maybe it was because this house was the only thing I had inherited from my mother… other than my brothers.
Pulling into my spot in the driveway, I recognized the two cars parked out front.
Each vehicle resembled its owner in different ways, Kyrin's truck was bold, just like him—the burnt orange color reflecting a warm type of strength.
Greyson's Jeep was red and open on all sides, a running joke of how empty he was inside.
Pulling my keys out, I prepared myself for whatever was waiting for me inside. Each time we had dinner, I ended up walking into some kind of shitstorm.
It wasn't until the last ten feet of the driveway that Ember's face finally started to fade from my mind.
Lucky for me, all thoughts of her vanished completely as I pushed my front door open.
The air inside hit me, thick with a mix of paint and something chemical, close to bleach.
The scent was followed by quiet laughter coming down the main hallway from my living room.
Kicking off my shoes, I set them by the door and closed it behind me.
Walking toward the familiar voices, I guessed at what my brothers could be doing.
In no world, was I expecting that to be Twister.
Yes, the children's game, except in my brother's ridiculous minds they decided to up the ante with paint.
The furniture in my living room had been moved, and in the middle was a gigantic tarp where each dot on the mat was smeared with a different combination of colors.
Fingerprints streaked my table and unmistakable handprints stamped the floor.
I didn’t have to think too hard to guess Kyrin was the leader of this, but then again, Greyson was never always the innocent one.
Coming in at 6’2", that barbarian was a whirlwind of scarred skin and blond hair that didn’t say no to anything.
Even now, he stood barefoot with streaks of red across his cheeks like war paint.
Kyrin was there too, right next to him, bent at the waist, while a girl I vaguely recognized stretched over his back as she tried not to topple over.
I watched them laugh for a moment before my gaze dropped to the floor beneath them.
The white tile surrounding their game was stained with a series of mixed blotches.
I glared at the multiple spots where paint had very clearly spilled and then attempted to be cleaned.
I walked to the hall closet and pulled the wooden door open, reaching inside.
Sorting through the supplies, I grabbed my mop and some rags.
Returning to the children in the living room, I cleared my throat and shook my head in their direction, as if they actually had the ability to process disappointment.
Then, in one smooth motion, I threw the supplies at their feet and walked straight past them to the backyard.
I wasn’t their father, nor was I in the mood to deal with whatever excuse they were about to give.
The deck I’d built out back overlooked nothing special, but it was still nice to stare out at the trees beyond. The sounds around me blended into something calm, and right now, I much preferred them to the ones inside.
After what felt like only a few minutes, the sliding glass door behind me opened, and Kyrin stepped up beside me with a plate of food. “I wasn’t sure if you were still pissy or not, but I made you a plate.”
The sarcasm in his tone reminded me of Ember, and her eyes instantly filled my mind. “I’m pissy because you guys seem to forget the fact that you're both grown men.”
He raised his hands in submission, already retreating back toward the door like he had no way to defend that comment.
I called out to him right before he pulled it open. “Where exactly did you find Ember?”
Kyrin stopped immediately and looked over his shoulder at me. “Ember? Could she be the reason you're so uptight tonight?”
As usual, I didn’t feel like playing his mind games. “Just answer the question.”
His smile loosened as he rejoined my side.
“I found her card on a table in a coffee shop I visited. When I was looking at it, the waiter swore she was the best thing around and bragged about how she always brought things to life. Then she mumbled something about that only being true if you could handle her. I had a good feeling about her and thought she might be good for you. So, I decided to take the chance.” He shrugged before a sly, stupid smile covered his face.
“Plus, I knew she would end up bothering you, and I kind of live for things like that.”
Huh.
Well, at least now I had someone else to blame for her demise. Realistically, what was coming for her was his fault. The fact of the matter was, he decided her outcome by playing this dumb game of his. “So, you knew how she would act, then?”
My question made him pause for a moment, like he was replaying that night. “It’s because she took off the mask, huh?”
When I didn’t respond, he nodded like everything made sense. “I had nothing to do with that, man, so don’t put me on whatever shit list you’ve created in your head. I told her it was mandatory.”
His reaction confirmed my original thought about her. She had willingly chosen to act like that. Regardless, none of that mattered now. I’d made up my mind about her and exactly what was going to happen.
Physically, I was here on the porch with him. Mentally, I was already devising every way I could tear her apart.