14. Kim
14
KIM
Kim
C onstantly being alone is not good for my mind.
I can't sleep. The luxurious bed in this gilded cage feels like it's swallowing me whole. And I know getting up and pacing won't help.
I'm used to studying, to working, to doing something . But above that, there's one thing that has started to haunt me over the last few days as it becomes more and more clear to me that I am not going anywhere.
My mind races, filled with images of my siblings. Are they okay? Do they even know I'm gone?
Zander's face flashes before me. At sixteen, he's still so young. Who's making sure he goes to school? Is Avery looking out for him? God, I hope they're not getting mixed up in Nathan's mess.
I toss and turn, the silk sheets tangling around my legs. Nathan. That's a whole other worry. Is he still dealing? Has he gotten himself arrested? Or worse?
The pit in my stomach grows deeper with each passing day. I should be there, protecting them, guiding them. Instead, I'm trapped here in this twisted fairy tale.
Sam's noticed my distraction. His piercing gray eyes follow me as I pick at my food during our forced meals together.
"What's on your mind, little dancer?" he asks, voice dripping with false concern.
I want to scream at him. Tell him about the family he's torn me away from. But I can't. I won't give him that power over them too.
So I force a smile, shrug it off. "Nothing important."
But it eats at me. Every luxury he showers me with feels like a slap in the face. My siblings could be struggling to eat, and here I am surrounded by more food than I could ever want. And no way to help them.
It's been ingrained in me for so long to watch out for them as the oldest. And the guilt at moving out was enough, but now? Now, I feel like I'm being eaten alive with nothing else on my mind or to occupy my time.
I pace the room at night, my mind conjuring worst-case scenarios. Braden getting into fights. Avery dropping out of school. Zander following Nathan's footsteps into the drug trade.
The worry gnaws at me, constant and unrelenting. It's the one thing Sam can't control, can't buy off. And in a twisted way, I cling to it. It's the last piece of my real life, my real family, that I have left.
But one morning I finally snap. The clinking of silverware against fine china echoes through the cavernous dining room as I push my food around the plate. My stomach churns, not from hunger, but from the gnawing worry that's been eating at me for weeks.
Kelsey, ever-present, hovers nearby just outside the room, but I can feel her eyes on me. Sam sits at the head of the table, his broad shoulders filling out his tailored shirt as he scrolls through his phone.
I can't take it anymore. The words burst out of me like water from a broken dam. "Sam, I need a phone."
His steel-gray eyes snap up, locking onto mine. A muscle in his jaw ticks. Slowly, he sets his things down, leveling me with a look. "What was that?"
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. "Please, I need to call my siblings. I haven't spoken to them in weeks. I don't even know if they're okay."
Keeping his eyes on me, Sam shifts, pulling his phone out and setting it on the table. Crossing his arms, he leans back in his chair. His fingers drum against the polished wood. "And why should I care about your family?"
The casual cruelty in his voice makes my blood boil. I clench my fists under the table, nails digging into my palms.
When did I start thinking this psychopath cared about me? Because of his "gifts?"
I'm not sure why, can't pinpoint when I stopped seeing him so much as my enemy, but I thought if I begged him, if he realized I cared, he would care. But I have to remind myself the kind of person he is.
Steeling myself, I try again. "Because they're all I have left. They're just kids, Sam. Zander's only sixteen. What if something's happened to them?"
A flicker of something—curiosity? interest?—passes over Sam's face. He leans forward, elbows on the table. "Tell me about them."
I blink, caught off guard by his sudden interest. "I... There's four of them. Nathan's twenty-one, Braden's twenty, Avery's seventeen, and Zander's sixteen. Our parents are gone. And the youngest two are with my grandmother, but she can't really care for them."
Sam's eyes narrow, calculating. "And you think they can't survive without you?"
"It's not about surviving," I snap, frustration bubbling up. "It's about knowing they're safe. That they're not..." I trail off, the image of Nathan's eerie smile flashing through my mind.
Sam stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He stalks around the table, each step measured and deliberate. My heart races as he approaches, torn between fear and a traitorous spark of attraction.
He stops beside me, looming over my seated form. His hand comes to rest on the back of my chair, fingers brushing against my shoulder. "And what would you give me in return for this... kindness?"
I look up at him, meeting his intense gaze. "What do you want?"
A slow, predatory smile spreads across his face. "Oh, little dancer. I think you know exactly what I want."
"Anything," I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll give you anything. Please, Sam."
My hands tremble as I reach for him, fingers grazing his arm. The muscles beneath his skin tense at my touch. I can feel my heart pounding, threatening to burst from my chest.
Sam's eyes darken, a predatory gleam flickering in their depths. For a moment, I think he'll refuse, but then his expression softens ever so slightly.
"Fine," he growls, fishing his phone from his pocket. "But don't forget this debt, little dancer."
I nod frantically, snatching the phone from his outstretched hand. My fingers shake as I punch in my grandmother's number, praying someone will answer.
The line rings once, twice, three times. I hold my breath, willing someone to pick up.
"Hello?" Avery's voice crackles through the speaker.
"Avery!" I gasp, relief flooding through me. "It's Kim." Taking a deep breath, I try to calm myself. "I'm sorry I haven't been around. How are you? Is Zander with you?"
"Kim? Where the hell have you been?" There's an edge to his voice that sets my teeth on edge.
"I'm... I can't explain right now. Just tell me you're both alright."
"Yeah, we're fine. Both in school. Grandma's doing her best, but..." He trails off, and I can hear the unspoken weight in his words.
My stomach twists. "But what, Avery? What's going on?"
There's a long pause, and I can picture him chewing his lip, debating whether to tell me. "It's Nathan," he finally says. "He's moved into Mom and Dad's old place."
The blood drains from my face. I grip the phone tighter, knuckles turning white. "What's he doing there?"
"What do you think?" Avery's voice is bitter. "Running his 'business.' Place is crawling with dealers and junkies. It's bad, Kim. Real bad."
My free hand clenches into a fist, nails digging into my palm. I want to scream, to cry, to punch something. Instead, I take a deep breath, forcing my voice to remain steady.
"How bad?" I force myself to ask.
"He's…" He blows out a breath. "I heard he's using your relationship to that hockey team to get more buyers."
I grip the phone tighter, my knuckles turning white. "What do you mean, Avery? How's Nathan doing that?"
Avery sighs heavily on the other end. "He's been bragging to everyone that his sister's an ice girl for the team. Says he's got connections now."
My stomach drops. "Connections? What kind of connections?"
"The kind that gets you big-time customers," Avery says, his voice low and bitter. "He's been telling people he can get them the good stuff, the same stuff the players use."
I feel like I've been punched in the gut. "That's bullshit. The team doesn't?—"
"I know that," Avery cuts me off. "But these rich assholes buying from him don't. They just hear 'NHL' and think it's some kind of stamp of quality."
My free hand clenches into a fist. I want to scream, to throw something, but I'm acutely aware of Sam's presence behind me. "How long has this been going on?"
"A couple weeks now. Ever since you disappeared," Avery says. There's an accusation in his tone that cuts deep.
I just need them safe, though. They can hate me otherwise. "Listen to me, Avery. You and Zander stay away from there, you hear me? Don't go anywhere near that house."
"Yeah, I know. We're not stupid."
"I mean it," I insist, my voice cracking. "Promise me."
"I promise, okay? Jeez." He pauses, then adds softly, "When are you coming home, Kim?"
The question hits me like a punch to the gut. I look up at Sam, who's watching me intently, his expression unreadable.
"I... I don't know," I whisper, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. "But I'll figure something out. Just take care of yourself and Zander. I love you both."
"Love you too," Avery mumbles before hanging up.
The line goes dead, and I'm left staring at the phone in my hand, feeling more helpless than ever.