Inevitable (King Crime Family #2) - J.L. Beck Page 0,23
word to Jared or Enzo. I refuse to talk to the very people who ripped my world apart. Though Jared has been very nice to me, I still can’t accept him being related to me.
I’ve spent most of the time in this room, the bedroom I’m supposed to be sharing with Enzo. I make him sleep on the couch, too afraid I might slit his throat at night while he’s sleeping.
I’ve only been going downstairs when I’m hungry. After being constantly hungry in that godforsaken hole, I don’t miss a single opportunity to eat. Being hungry only reminds me of being a prisoner, so I shove food into my face every opportunity I get.
Sitting cross-legged on my bed, I flip through the pages of one of the books Jared brought me. I wish I could get lost in the story like I used to, but my mind feels like it’s headquarters for a beehive, the constant buzzing crippling my thoughts.
All I’ve done for the past four days is think. Think about all the fucked up shit in my life. I feel like I’m being pulled in five different directions.
Most of my mind is consumed with mourning my father. Even that is split in two. I mourn the man I knew, the loving father who was a part of my life. And then I mourn the man I last saw, dressed in an expensive suit, in my childhood home where he held me prisoner. Maybe I shouldn’t mourn that man, but I do. Because I can’t mourn one without the other.
I still don’t understand why he did the things he did, and I probably never will, but I can’t love him any less. I can’t hate the man who has always been there for me.
When I’m not grieving my father, I think about Jared and Enzo. The thought of Jared being my half-brother still feels odd. I grew up as an only child, never knowing what it feels like to have a sibling, and I definitely didn’t imagine gaining one in this abnormal way.
Jared has been very nice to me, even before he learned about our connection. I can’t lie and say that I don’t like him, or the idea of having him as my brother, but I’m still uncertain if I’ll be able to accept him just yet.
Finally, there is Enzo, who is the most frustrating person to think of. He betrayed me. I trusted him, and he betrayed me—twice. He believed Mack over me. That cut me deeper than I would like to admit. It cut me deep enough to leave a permanent scar, and right now, that scar is still red and angry.
Right next to it is a wide-open gash. He killed my father in front of me. He killed him, knowing how much that would hurt me, how much pain he would cause me. I don’t know if I can let that pain go, or if it will forever overshadow anything I feel for Enzo.
Part of me holds on to the thought of loving him. No matter how much I want to hate him, I can’t just forget what I felt for him—what I still feel for him.
Lost in thought, I don’t hear anyone approaching. The door flies open suddenly, and a little shriek escapes my lips.
“Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Enzo says. He can’t be that sorry since he still closes the door behind him and steps further into the room. I notice him limping slightly, and I briefly wonder about his injuries.
I want to ask him, but not enough to actually do it. I’d rather be alone.
“Out,” I growl, shutting the book in my lap.
“No.” He shakes his head. “I’m done giving you space.”
“I’m not done needing space.” Narrowing my eyes at him, I jump off the bed.
Stripping off my shirt and shorts, I stand before him in my bra and panties. Keeping my eyes trained on his chest, I start to head into the bathroom.
Of course, Enzo steps into my way, cutting off the path.
“Amara, we should talk. Talk about everything.” His voice sounds off. So off that I can’t quite put my finger on it.
“Move,” I order, not letting him scare me.
“Please, just listen to me. You can’t avoid me forever.”
Looking up, my eyes snap to his. Then I realize why he sounds so off. It’s the same reason his facial expression is new to me.
Both his voice and his eyes are full of emotions. Something Enzo normally hides well.