Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
“First, ew! Second, I don’t want to go to this dinner party tonight.”
I release a steady breath. “Neither do I.” The monthly dinner parties are traditional. It was one of the new implications our parents started when they took over. They’re not bad. It sometimes feels like a therapy session with family members. But then it’s not always good. It’s just that—a dinner party. Except for that one time Pop brought his mistress and Nanna stabbed her in the throat with her steak knife.
Because every new system that is brought in has to be carried through to every generation after, means these will continue with us too.
River’s phone starts blaring, and her smile slips when she sees the name on the screen. She is a replica of her mother. It’s creepy. They could almost pass as doppelgängers. Only River has ash blonde hair, and Tillie always keeps hers a shade of pink. We’ve been telling her to dye her hair for years.
“Ugh!” Her fingers fly over the screen, and Stella and I both share a look.
“Trouble?” Stella asks with a perched brow.
River doesn’t answer, continuing to text whoever it is. She hands me her glass without looking up, and I pour more tequila.
“Why is it that the person you want to text, doesn’t? And then the one who you don’t want to, does.”
My fingers flex around the glass. “Do we have to have that little intervention again about how you should not be fucking Katsia because she’s a piece of shit?”
River’s fingers pause, sheepishly lifting her eyes to mine. “No. I got it the first six times.”
I glare at her.
“It’s not my fault! She’s crazy! Crazy makes for good sex. And anyway.” She goes back to texting. “She was leaving War alone when she was with me.”
“I don’t think that girl has ever left War alone…” Stella muses. “Honestly, Hales, I would have slit her throat on sight.”
I ignore my unhinged witch.
Four rounds later, River’s lying back on my bed, her hands sprawled over her belly as she stares up at the ceiling. “Do you think Vaden is okay?”
Stella has her phone out, snapping selfies.
I lean into one just in time. “What do you mean?”
Stella flicks through the retro filter app and opens Instagram. “She’s right. Something is going on with him.”
The photos pinned on my wall display a story of family, trust, love. I couldn’t imagine a life without everyone in it. I never want a life without them all in it. War included. Could we be jeopardizing that by being too involved?
I doubt it. God himself couldn’t rip this family apart.
“I think it’s just because we hold him to such a high standard, so if he does something considered remotely normal for us, we’re all going to question him. It’s no secret he has blood on his hands. Maybe he’s just—” I don’t even believe my own words. “Yeah, maybe you’re both right.”
Our phones light up at the same time.
Dinner party postponed to tomorrow.
I read over the words again. “What? That’s never happened…”
“Everything is suspicious.” Stella’s staring down at her phone, the two lines between her brows deep.
The bedroom door swings open as I’m sliding off my desk.
Priest fills the space, holding the door open as if waiting for someone.
“Dashing, darling…” Stella eats up what he’s wearing. Denim jeans, a black-and-gray Hermes shirt, and the latest Jordans. Stella and Priest should never be allowed together unattended.
Ever.
His head jerks out the door. “You all need to go downstairs.”
“Why?” I leave out the fact that I don’t want to and that every second Katsia is in my house the more I crave murder.
Ignoring my question, he crosses the room and shifts the curtains out of the way.
“Because you need to go downstairs and stop making it fucking obvious that you’ve gone soft for War.” He releases the curtains, turning back to me. “And what happened with you on Perdita? Where’d you go?”
The urge to snap at him for his comment has me glaring. There’s no point arguing with Priest. You could sit there and insult him all day, and all it’d do is make you exhausted and him bored.
“I left.”
“You left.” His catatonic voice parrots my tone. “Downstairs.”
My mouth snaps closed.
“What happened to the dinner party?” River shuffles off the bed. “Why has it been called off?” The air around me tightens. I’d never felt claustrophobic in my own bedroom until now.
Priest ignores her. “Now, Halen. Don’t fuck around.” As soon as he leaves, we all sit in silence for a moment.
“So…” The unmistakable sarcasm in River’s laugh would otherwise work into the tension of my muscles. “You want me to go rub up on Katsia, or?”
“No.” I cross the room to my closet and drop to my knees, sliding open one of the drawers beneath the center compartment. My fingers wrap around the handgun before standing back up and placing it on the top. I need to find something to wear.