taking time to fix my makeup and hair. I pull on a pair of jean shorts and a cute red T-shirt I bought from Destiny’s. I slide my feet into my brown leather sandals and grab my things to head out.
I knock on Brad’s door and he yells for me to come in. I walk in and find him in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.
“Hey,” I say, leaning against the counter and crossing my arms over my chest.
“Hey,” he responds, flipping the bacon. When he has things settled on the stove for a few minutes, he comes over to stand in front of me. He looks down at me and suddenly pulls me in for a crushing hug.
“I’m sorry I wouldn’t listen. I was just so angry. I felt betrayed, not just by my best friend, but my sister.”
I nod against his chest. “I know, and I’m sorry you had to find out that way. It wasn’t our intention. We were going to do this right,” I assure him.
“I know. Hudson told me. I’m sorry for calling Mom. If it helps, I’ll make sure to clear things up with her.” He pulls away to head back to the stove.
I nod and smile. “Thank you.”
“Mom and Marco should be here any minute.”
“Marco?” I ask rather loudly.
He looks at me, apologetically. “Yeah, I know. I don’t want to see that asshole either, but what can we do? Where Mom goes, he goes. Don’t worry, I’m sure they won’t stay long. They have a wonderful life of privilege to get back to.”
Someone knocks on the door, and it feels like someone has poured a bucket of ice water over my head. I haven’t seen Marco since the night he forced himself on me. I can still feel his hot breath on my neck. I can taste him on my lips, remember the sting of expensive liquor and cigars on my tongue. I can feel the roughness of his hands as they grab and pull at my body and clothes. I hear the sound of my nightgown ripping as he tries to force it up my body with me fighting against him.
Brad must have left the room during my meltdown because the next thing I hear the door is being opened and Brad is greeting them.
“Mom, it’s good to see you,” he says.
“You too, honey. Look how good-looking you are,” Mom says.
“Marco,” Brad greets.
“Where’s your sister? She’s here, isn’t she?” Mom asks.
“Yeah, she’s helping me in the kitchen,” Brad says, and I know that’s my cue to exit the safety of the kitchen and face my mom and Marco for the first time in months. I take a deep, soothing breath and push myself a step forward. I plaster on a fake smile and force myself one more step, and then another, and then another until I’m finally standing beside Brad.
Mama looks over at me and smiles, even though I can see the way she truly feels about me just by the coldness of her eyes. They’re dark, but lighter than Brad’s, Dad’s, and mine. They have a hint of green to them, and that green only comes out when she’s stressed or angry. It nearly glows, giving them an evil glint.
“Mama, how are you?” I ask, keeping my fake smile in place as I lean in and hug her.
She wraps her arms around me and breathes me in. “I’m good. How have you been, Deven?” Even her tone has a cold, bitter edge to it.
“I’m great,” I answer, pulling away and refusing to look at Marco at all, even though I can feel his eyes taking in my body. “I hope you’re hungry. Everything is almost done. Why don’t you have a seat while I finish helping Brad in the kitchen?”
“Yes, Mama, make yourself at home.” Brad leads me back to the kitchen.
Mom and Marco take a seat on the couch while Brad gets busy plating up all the food. I plop down at the kitchen table, trying to talk down from the freak-out that’s bubbling up. I quickly pull out my phone and send Hudson a text. Where are you? I need you. She brought Marco with her. I can’t face him. Please, hurry.
I tuck my phone back into my pocket as Brad is setting food on the table. He looks at me with a questioning look. “What’s your problem?”
I shrug. “I’m just nervous,” I answer, not expecting him to understand. I never told him the reason I was kicked out, so I