Chapter 4
TALIN
Inotice the second lighter after taking a shower. I stand beside my bed, hair cap still on, damp and naked, and stare with my mouth hanging open.
There was only one last night.
And now there are two fancy gold lighters.
Where the hell did the second one come from?!
I throw on clothes and scour my room. Sometimes Sam likes to play stupid tricks on me; he’ll leave traps around, or that’s what he calls them.
Once it was a hidden speaker he used to wake me up in the middle of the night.
Another time it was a stink bomb rigged to release its fumes when I was having a few friends over for a slumber party.
Sam’s pranks have tapered off over the years, but maybe this lighter is one of his, and it’s a sign of something worse coming.
But no, my room is normal. No secret trip-wires rigged to confetti explosives or anything like that. I sit on my bed and hold both lighters, one in each palm. They’re almost exactly the same, except mine is heavier, and the other one looks older.
What in the world is going on?
There’s a knock at the door. I flinch and stifle a yelp as my youngest brother Davit pokes his head inside. His dark eyes are always so expressive, his eyebrows twitching and his mouth forming odd shapes, like his emotions crawl across his face and he can’t control them.
“You wanted to know when Dad was home,” he says, looking worried. “He’s in his office now.”
“Great, awesome, thanks.” Before he can leave, I hold up the lighters. “Hey, do you know anything about these?”
“Um, should I?” He comes inside, squinting. “I don’t recognize them. Look fancy though.”
“Okay, no worries.” I toss them aside like they’re not extremely important and valuable. Like I didn’t steal one of them from the office of an arms dealer the other day. “How’s Dad seem? Good mood?”
“Not too bad, I don’t think.” Davit sits beside me hesitantly. Of everyone in our family, he’s the best at reading the room, especially when it comes to our father’s mercurial moods. “Whatever you’re planning, I don’t think it’s going to work.”
“Thanks for the pep talk.”
“I mean, has Dad ever changed his mind before?”
“There’s always a first.”
“Maybe.” He sucks his teeth and fiddles with his pants.
It’s clear he thinks I shouldn’t bother.
He’s worried about me and not exactly good at hiding it.
“I’m sorry, you know. I always thought arranged marriages were, like, something you see in old fantasy movies or whatever. Then it happened to Annie, and now—“
“It’s not your fault. And I’m not married yet.” I get to my feet and ruffle his hair. “Don’t stress too much about it, okay? I’ll be fine.”
Even if giving myself to some stranger for the rest of my life is a nightmare.
I keep thinking about that chance meeting in the office.
How much of that was actual coincidence?
And how much of it was planned? Brenden McGrath is apparently some kind of master thief, or at least that’s what I’ve heard, and I’ve been asking around since I learned he’s going to be my husband.
But something bad happened to him, he got in some kind of trouble, botched an important job, nearly got killed, and has been on the outs with the families ever since.
Why him, of all the men in the Brotherhood? Why not someone like Annie’s Leon?
I know why, even if I can’t admit it to myself.
Annie gets a Leon because she’s pretty, demure, and a perfect daughter.
I got a disgraced thief because I’m the opposite.
Everyone knows it. Even Davit can’t pretend like that’s not the case. Heck, I can see how much of a failure I am every time my little brother sets foot in my room. That boy can’t hide a darn thing.
I knock on Papa’s office door and let myself in when he calls.
He’s sitting behind his desk, a half-eaten bowl of cereal and a big mug of steamy coffee at his elbow, a newspaper unfolded in front of him.
Annie tried to get him to use an iPad a few years back, but that didn’t take.
Haik Sarkissian will be analogue until the day he dies.
“Good morning, Papa,” I say as brightly as I can, but he immediately notes the false cheer. His face tightens in response.
“Youngest daughter,” he says, not lowering the sports page. “To what do I owe this pleasure? Are you the reason Davit was hanging around?”
I don’t bother answering that last question. “I was hoping we could discuss my future.”
“There’s not much to say that hasn’t already been decided.”
“I understand, but I was thinking maybe, I don’t know, we could talk about it anyway?”
“I know you’re worried, darling youngest, but your cousin Arsen wants this. He wouldn’t pair you with someone dangerous. I’m sure Brenden McGrath will make a wonderful husband.”
Papa does not sound convinced nor does he sound particularly worried about it.
I stand before him, hands clasped in front of me, feeling like a child again, inwardly hating myself while outwardly doing my best Annie impression.
How does she hold her face when she wants something?
What kind of pleading tone does she use?
I swear, my sister knows how to work my father for just about anything she wants. While I’m stumbling around awkwardly.
“I’m sure Cousin Arsen’s right—“ Because Cousin Arsen is always right in our family. “But I don’t know Brenden at all. Maybe we can have a longer engagement? Maybe a few months, so we can get to know each other? There’s no reason we have to rush into anything.”
Papa lowers the paper, his attention on me now. “That’s all you want?”
“Well, I mean, I suppose, if maybe, uh, if we find we’re not compatible—“
His eyes narrow. “Say it, Tallie.”
“Maybe we could call it off?”
Papa sighs and puts the paper down. He shakes it, folding the creases. “That is not an option.”
“There has to be a way, Papa. I don’t know him, I don’t want him, I can’t marry a man I’ve met once for only a few seconds.”
“I’ll set up another meeting then.”
“Papa—“
He holds up a hand. My mouth shuts with a click, my heart racing into my throat. All the usual good humor is gone from Papa’s face as he puts his paper aside and lifts his coffee to his lips.
“I am not going to say this again, so please make sure you’re listening. You will marry Brenden McGrath. You will not make a scene. You will not scream, or cry, or do anything to embarrass me or this family, do you understand? You will do your duty like your sister—“
“But Annie’s been engaged for over a year now! And you haven’t forced her to walk down the aisle!”
I regret it the second the words escape.
I know they sound childish and silly, at least from his perspective, and I’m fully aware of how he’s going to react.
Only I can’t help myself, which is the problem.
Words bubble up from my mouth and spill out like water from an underground well, and there’s nothing I can do to stop them. Story of my life.
Papa’s expression darkens. “You are not Annie,” he says and repeats it a second time, emphasizing each word. “You. Are. Not. Annie.”
“I know, but—“
“You will do as you are told, Talin. Do you know how many times your sister has tried to beg her way out of her arrangement? Can you guess whether she’s made my life difficult or easy?
If you can’t find a way to live with your new reality, there will be consequences.
I love you, darling youngest, but do not mistake that for weakness.
You know what will happen if you step out of line. ”
My hands shake as I worry them together.
I nod grimly, looking at my shoes. Count to ten and keep it together.
One, two, three… But that barely helps. My cheeks are red with anger and shame, and I feel the walls of the room shifting closer, trying to constrict me.
Our house is big and beautiful, it’s in a wonderful neighborhood, I’ve been given the best education and allowed access to some of the most exclusive parties in all of Baltimore, but none of that matters.
Not when it feels like the rugs are going to wrap around my throat and suffocate me at any moment.
Papa lifts his paper and returns to reading. I spin on my heel and get the heck out of there before I can make my situation even worse.
I hurry to the kitchen. My head’s pulsing already and I need coffee. I get a mug and fill it, and only notice Annie when she plops herself on the counter beside me, socked feet kicking.
“Well? How’d that go?”
I try to ignore her. “Good morning to you too.”
“Did he yell at you?”
“I’m hungry. Do we have any English muffins left?”
“I bet he threatened to do something terrible. Big, scary Papa and his horrific punishments.” Annie waggles her eyebrows, grinning, and I want to slap her across the face.
She thinks our father’s temper is some big joke because he never turns it on her.
But if she were the one shoved on a bed as his belt cracked across her shoulder blades enough to leave bloody welts—
Coffee spills and burns my hand. I curse, put the mug down, and clean up the spill. “I’m fine,” I say, straightening with as much dignity as I can muster. “Everything’s fine, okay?”
Annie gets off the counter and touches my shoulder. “Hey, Tallie, I’m sorry. Really, I’m not being nice. I’m sorry.”
I wring a towel miserably and breathe through my nose. “He’s not going to change his mind.”
“No, he’s not. Believe me, I tried.”
I look up in surprise. “Really? He said you didn’t.”
She snorts and hugs me tightly. “Then he lied. The night I found out, I cried and begged him to change his mind. I said horrible things about Leon and I hadn’t even met him yet. In the end though, I got past it.”
“How?” I feel like the word is a curse, a deep black well with no bottom at all, no water to sink me, no ground to stop my fall. I don’t want the answer, but I also need something to hold on to, no matter how much I’ll hate it.
“I realized it won’t change. No matter what I did, Papa wouldn’t budge an inch. You know how he is.” She pulls back, holding my shoulders. “This is what we are, right? Sam, Davit, Gor, Hov, all our brothers are trapped in their own ways, like we are.”
“Miriam and Tate got away.”
“Tate’s miserable working some dead end job to keep her lights on and Miriam’s pumping out little brats for that loser doctor she married. Neither can ever come home, you know that. It’s not an option for us.”
I suck in a breath, trying to steady myself.
I know she’s right. I hated Tate so much when she ran off.
I didn’t mind Miriam so much, mostly because she’s a lot older and we weren’t close, but when Tate ditched the family it was like someone broke my arm and left it dangling by a thread of skin.
I can’t imagine doing that to Annie, to Sam, especially not to poor, sensitive Davit.
Which leaves me where?
Trapped, like always.
“Morning, sisters.” Sam strides into the kitchen, throws open the fridge, and grabs the milk. He takes two chugs straight from the carton.
“Don’t be disgusting, Sam.” Annie snatches it from him and puts it back.
He doesn’t seem bothered. Not much ruffles him. “Coffee, sweet elixir of life and health.” He fills a big mug and blows on it. “What’s with you?” he asks, jutting his chin out at me.
“I’m fine.” I wipe my eyes and elbow him back.
“Were you crying? Oh god, are you upset about the whole marriage thing?”
“Stop it, Sam,” Annie says in a warning tone.
“I’m so jealous, honestly. You know Brenden McGrath’s supposed to be the best thief in the city? I’d literally murder both of you for a chance at marrying him. Can you imagine how much he could teach me?”
“You are mentally broken,” Annie snaps sharply. “Seriously twisted in the brain.”
“Tallie, please, when you’re his wife, will you talk to him for me? Ask him to teach me the trade? I’ll do anything for you. I’ll strangle Annie with her favorite high end bag! You’d love that, right?”
“I’m with Annie on this one. You’re insane.” I find the English muffins in a drawer and eat one without bothering to toast it.
“Just consider it, okay? I’m over here grinding my teeth thinking about how fun it would be to pick his brain!”
Annie tells him to quit being such an asshole and I leave them to bicker in my wake.
It’s like nothing’s changed in our house—Annie and Sam are always going at each other while Davit plays peacemaker and I try my best to stay out of it—but my entire world’s different.
I retreat back to my room and find it mercifully empty of my siblings.
I sit on my bed and pick up the lighters again.
“Where did you come from?” I say softly to the new one, gripping it tight in my hand, aware that no matter how hard I squeeze it won’t crush and it won’t break, not for me anyway.