Violence (Antihero Inferno #3) - Lily White Page 0,89
has no idea how what I’m assuming was a joke on her part has touched too close to home.
Not only does it remind me of what I did in high school that led to the scar on my shoulder, it also puts me in a position where I have to lie to my best friend.
I’ve always been a horrible liar. But lately, I’ve been doing it so much, I could compete with Gabriel for how much of a professional at it I’m becoming.
Unable to summon the will to sound overjoyed about the twins being in my life, I tell a half truth, something that gives me a reason to sound disgruntled.
“Actually, that’s more complicated than I’d like it to be. Damon got arrested a few weeks ago.”
The perfect lie.
Something that’s verifiable and gives me an excuse to sound as upset as I am.
I’m just leaving out the subsequent torture of one twin who needs me even more now that he’s being harassed by his father, and the other one who is hellbent on destroying me.
After a back and forth where I explain that Shane was arrested with Damon, and that Ezra wasn’t there for once, the doorbell rings through the house, which causes my stomach to shrivel into a painful ball.
All I want to do is beg her to come home and rescue me. Instead, I play it off that I’m happy about the man who’s arrived.
“That must be Ezra, which means I need to go. Have fun tonight, and be sure to send me footage.”
We say our goodbyes as I get up to answer the door. Unfortunately, Dylan got there before me, his expression a pissed off sneer as he blocks Ezra’s path.
He reminds me of a young puppy going up against an alpha, his little curled lip and not quite full-grown teeth no match for the bite Ezra is capable of delivering.
“Dylan,” I warn, hoping he’ll move out of the way before Ezra moves him.
My brother is almost as tall as Ezra, but he’s nowhere near as filled out. Plus, he hasn’t spent years fighting everything and everybody like Ezra has.
Tense silence rolls between the two, Ezra’s cold stare locked on Dylan as if daring him to do something.
“Dylan,” I warn again, my voice more urgent.
“Fuck off, slut-“
It’s all he gets out before Ezra has him pinned against a wall, Ezra’s forearm against Dylan’s throat and his expression calm and collected.
The fact that Ezra doesn’t appear mad only angers Dylan more. He kicks out a few times, his hands gripping onto Ezra’s arm, his face turning a nasty shade of red.
Ducking his head to be eye level with Dylan, a move he always uses with me, Ezra speaks so softly that I have to strain to hear him.
“If I ever hear you speak to your sister like that again, I will leave you so fucking broken that you’ll be bedridden and in traction for months. I don’t give a damn who your daddy is or what your family will do to me. You deserve to be taught a lesson in respect just like your worthless, piece of shit friends.”
Maybe it’s because of how calm his voice is, but my blood runs cold at Ezra’s words.
Dylan must finally come to his senses as well. He stops struggling. Stops glaring. Can barely breathe because his face is turning a deep shade of purple.
“Nod to tell me you understand me,” Ezra demands.
With effort, Dylan nods.
Ezra holds him in place for a few seconds longer before releasing Dylan and letting him fall to the floor. He doesn’t even bother looking down at the pile of my brother before walking forward to move past me and through the hall to my bedroom.
A chill rolls down my spine as he passes me, and I’m stuck between following after Ezra or trying to help my brother.
I choose to help Dylan, not that it makes anything better. All he does is slap out at me when I kneel down to help him, his voice strained when he snaps, “Get the fuck away from me.”
Just great. This is bound to make things even worse for me at home.
The thought runs through my head again that I need to join Ivy, and while making up my mind to buy a plane ticket to Miami as soon as possible, I push to my feet and walk down the hall to find Ezra in my bedroom.
“Was that really necessary?” I ask while shutting the door.