Tyrant Twins - Isabella Starling Page 0,67

thought out. A bell rings as I enter the coffee shop, and Kade stands when I approach the table. We stare at one another awkwardly. I don't know where to put my hands. My stepbrother sticks his in the pockets of his coat.

"You look good," he finally says.

"So do you," I mutter, the lie slipping from my lips slowly, like molten honey. The fact of the matter is, he does not look great. Kade looks fucking terrible. His eye is bruised and swollen, and he has a split lip.

I sit in front of him at the table, and he looks anywhere but into my eyes, nursing a cup of coffee. I order a chai latte with almond milk and glance around as I settle in my seat. Parker isn't here—obviously. But I can't fight off the paranoia following me like a thick cloak since last night and our stand-off.

"So what's up?" Kade finally wonders. "You said it was something to do with Parker?"

Nodding, I find myself speechless. I want to say so many things to Kade, but now that we're finally sitting in the same room, I'm struggling to get the words out.

"What is it?" Kade asks after a moment of silence. "What did the kid fucking do now?"

Despite the grave situation, a smile creeps onto my face. The kid. They always called Parker that. He hated it and kept repeating there was only a minute's difference between the two brothers, but nobody cared. He was forever stuck with the curse of the younger brother.

"What do you know about Parker's relationship with your dad?"

"Dad?" Kade knits his brows together. "Not much to say. They spent a lot of time together."

"Not with you?"

"They were alone a lot." He shrugs. "They were close. Why do you ask?"

I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. "Parker... He told me some disturbing things about your father. And it made me worry, a lot."

"Like what?"

I squirm in my seat, unsure of how much I can tell him.

"Did you know Parker has scars all over his body?"

"Yeah." He shrugs. "On his back. He... he's into some weird sex stuff. Why?"

"He wouldn't let anyone do that to him," I mutter as Kade's eyes find mine.

"Then what do you think happened?" he asks.

"He says it was your father."

"What?" Kade laughs out loud. "That's ridiculous. Dad would never hurt either one of us."

"I don't know what to believe anymore," I mutter. "Something's definitely off, though."

Kade looks shocked, still contemplating what I've told him as I lean forward, lowering my voice. I know nobody's listening, yet I still worry someone will overhear our conversation.

"Parker's been acting weird."

"Isn't he always?"

"Weirder than usual." I cover my mouth. I feel sick suddenly, thinking of all the things I found out last night. "Fuck, I feel sick."

"Sick?" He looks at me with concern. It shouldn't fill me with hopeful gratitude, but it does. "Here, have some water."

I take deep gulps of the drink but soon realize it won't be enough. My eyes widen, and I rush from my seat straight into the bathroom while Kade stares after me. I throw up in the toilet and spend several minutes trying to make myself feel clean again.

By the time I emerge, Kade's paid for our bill and is waiting for me by the counter.

"We need to get you home," he tells me. "You look as pale as a ghost. You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," I mutter. Kade puts a protective arm around my waist. It doesn't feel romantic, though—it feels brotherly. And this time, I don't fight him off.

We head outside, and I call my driver to pick me up. I really don't feel well, and Kade seems to notice, making me sit down on a bench in front of the cafe just as a limo pulls up. It's the same brand and model as ours, and I get up when another figure emerges from the car.

It's almost like looking into a mirror. The girl is tall, willowy, and dark, and she's wearing a huge pair of sunglasses. It takes me a moment, but then I finally recognize her.

"Dove!" I call out. "Dove, over here."

She turns to face us, then hesitates. I knit my brows together, uncertain why she's so stand-offish. We've been good friends for years, and this is unlike her. Finally, she approaches us, and I gasp at the sight of a huge bandage on her face.

"What happened?" I ask. "Is this why you haven't been answering my calls?"

My friend's hand flies to her cheek,

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