31. Saint #2
I fist Annalie’s high ponytail and she yelps.
“How many fucking times do I have to tell you to stay out of my family business?” With a yank, she flies back and hits the floor, leaving Theory to scream as I step on her friend’s throat with one of my Jordans.
“You really think I’d allow a skank whore like you to hang around my sister without serving a purpose? ”
“Please,” Annalie chokes out a cry, so I press harder.
“You’ve officially proven yourself a useless nasty cunt. So from now on, stay far the fuck away from my sister.”
“Saint!” Theory croaks as she jumps out of the seat. “Get your foot off of her, she can’t breathe!”
“Oh, and who’s fault is that, baby girl?” My lip curls at Theory in disgust, then at Annalie. “I’ll snap this bitch’s trachea without blinking, and flick the ashes of a blunt onto her corpse right after.”
Annalie mutters incoherently, face turning red around her beady eyes.
When her friend is seconds from passing out, Theory does what Theory does every time she crosses the line. “Okay, I’ll stay away from her…please just stop.”
“Too late for compromises, sister. It’s time you remember who your brother is.”
Tears stream down Annalie’s cheeks as she attempts to apologize, destroying the caked up face she likely took hours to bake.
“Not quite sorry yet, Seven.” I pull Halo from my Letterman pocket, already tight around my knuckles.
My conscience’s whispers appear like floating bubbles, the first line of defense before I start crossing the lines carved in my head.
Breathe, Saint.
You are in control.
The words are a mantra as I grin down at Annalie.
Theory dares to speak her defense after refusing my orders, once again putting me in a position to have to feed the beast.
“If you want your ex-friend to breathe again, sister, I suggest nicely you stop talking.”
She hesitates but listens.
“Halo or a broken trachea, Seven. I’ll be nice and let you choose.”
“No. Please.”
“Last chance.”
Annalie’s eyes bounce between Theory and me, and when accepting nobody here is willing to help, she grunts, “Halo.”
Guess Seven’s not so stupid after all.
But then I’m reminded how many times I’ve bent this bitch over tables at parties and fucked her ass as my teammates watched.
With a pathetic chuckle I remove my sneaker and drop to Annalie’s side. Then, as she squeezes her eyes shut and holds her breath, I run Halo up the length of her neck. “For my sister’s sake, and because I pity your useless existence, I’ll show you mercy this one time.”
Her eyelids spring open when I retract the weapon.
“I-I—”
“Are getting the fuck out of my house.” Rising to my height, neither Theory or I bother helping the bitch as she struggles to get up.
Removing Annalie from the picture may make it a lot harder to control Theory, but there’s no chance in hell I’ll allow this girl to continue corrupting her.
“I’m so sorry,” Theory says as Annalie dusts off her dress, but there’s no response other than a tight scowl as she snatches a bag off the vanity and stomps out of the room.
“I’m so freaking mad at you!” Theory screeches, pushing past me and disappearing inside her closet.
“I never should’ve let you hang out with Annalie.”
When she appears again, it’s with silk buttoned pajamas and angry strides toward the bed. “Let me, let me, let me! I am so done with your smothering.”
“She’s not good for you, baby girl.”
Theory plops onto the bed with a scoff. “Heard this one before with your traitorous bitch of an ex-girlfriend.”
I’ve grown used to hearing my sister refer to Hendrix with so much hostility, but it never gets easier knowing the truth on how little she deserves it. Especially after Theory told me she tried warning her about Annalie’s intentions.
“We’ll talk about this when I get home.”
“From where? The party you’re refusing to let me go to?”
“You don’t belong at these parties, Theory. Most of the people who go to them are assholes.”
“You definitely belong there, then.”
Alright. I’ve earned that one.
“You’re right.” I take heavy steps to stand in front of her. “I am an asshole, even to you on occasion.”
She scoffs again, arms folded as she looks away.
“But you know why I am…why I have to be.”
“Doesn’t make it right.”
“Of course it fucking doesn’t.” I sit next to her. “But now is not the time for you to wander through a trail of woods at night for a party.”
“You’ll be there, though. And Stanley.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
The shot to take Levi’s advice is presented to me at this moment, and maybe he’d be right. Maybe Theory would understand the predicament I’d be in if shit popped off when she’s with Hendrix.
Or at least wait till tomorrow to fight me.
But on the off chance Levi’s wrong, and my sister starts suspecting, or worse, meddling, I can’t. I’d risk losing too much.
No.
The truth between all of us has to wait until everyone can hear it.
I can see the wheels turning in Theory’s head, and eventually, she concedes. “Who are you going with?”
“Levi and some girl he’s been with for a few weeks.”
“Levi’s with someone?”
I snort. “If you count fucking and ducking on repeat as being with someone.”
A few seconds pass before she responds, “Well, good for him I guess.”
“Easy for you to say, you don’t have to hear them in the back seat of my Rover.”
My sister’s unamused expression turns to visible discomfort as she pulls at the buttons of her pajama shirt.
Shit.
I never was great with sexual boundaries. Even verbal ones.
Slapping my knees, I stand and announce, “Alright, Imma head out.”
“’Kay…”
“I love you, baby girl. You know that right?”
Theory smiles up at me, muttering a resigned, “I love you too, big bro.”
Defiance. Fight. Plead. Surrender.
Every stage of my sister’s failed rebellions.
If only my stepsister would’ve caught on to the cycle sooner.