Page 52 of Vendetta

“The man we saw last night. Was it your uncle?” She sits next to me, and points at the fast food place name on the bag I brought the night before, scrunching her nose. “Hate that place, by the way. Dom always makes me go there, he loves their bacon cheeseburger.” She shudders. “Yuck.”

I can't help laughing, but it's a disappointed laugh. And I thought it was her favorite; that's how well I know her. Serves me right when I've wasted my whole life pretending to hate her.

“It wasn't him,” I lie for no reason—maybe to convince myself, rather than her. “You'll never see my uncle yelling or displaying emotions like that. He's like stone.” Which is why I found it hard to believe my own eyes, witnessing that scene last night. I haveneverseen him like that.

But it was him.

I try not to let my mind go rampant, thinking up scenarios in which he's hiding things from me or plotting against me, but it's so damn hard. He wouldn't turn on his own flesh and blood, would he?

It kills me that I get a resoundyes, he would, in my head. No matter how distant and cold he is, I always thought somewhere deep down he cared about me. But there's a lot of money at stake. So much power, it frightens me. And I'm the only one standing in his way, even if it doesn't seem like that. I'm the rightful heir to my father, not him.

But none of this makes sense. Why now? And what would he get from me hating Keith and his whole family, when he could just get rid of me and be done with it?

I palm my face, groaning. I have no idea what's going on, and I hate it that I'm doubting him like this. But obviously somethingishappening that I don't know.

Leighton starts rubbing my back in soothing circles and kisses me on the neck. “Do you ever hate living like this? Do you ever wish... ?”

“What?”

“I don't know, that it was all different. That we could run?—”

A bang on the door cuts her off. We look at each other in panic. I'm in my boxers and a sweatshirt and she's in a flimsy robe with nothing underneath. I jump and snatch my jeans while pointing to the bathroom. “Lock the door.”

She nods, doing a quick sweep of the room and grabs a handful of clothes, the ones I took her out in last night included. Then she's gone, the lock on the door clicking.

I pull my jeans on and wait for my heartbeat to calm down when another bang comes, making it jump again. I know it's not Hayley: she'd knock, or let me know it was her somehow.

I slowly walk to the door, and then unlock and open it, my posture casual. My uncle looks me up from head to toe, and his eyes flash with something I can't identify.

What the hell is he doing here? I glance back at the bathroom door, wondering if he ever came by before, but then I realize I have the only key.

I stand aside for him to enter, hoping he doesn’t notice how nervous I am. Actually, I’m not nervous, I realize. For some reason, I’m terrified. He looks around the room, then at me, his eyes full of questions.

I point to that stupid bag of food she doesn't like. “Brought her food.”

He nods, seemingly satisfied, and sits in the chair. I sit on the bed awkwardly, realizing it's not exactly hiding what we've done all night, and when I see him take in the scene knowingly, I want to kill myself for being so stupid.

Show them you care, and they'll know where to strike.

“Where did you go last night?” I ask, hoping it will distract him. It does the job. His eyes widen for just a second, but then his mask is back on, cold as ever.

“Emergency,” is all he says. What emergency? There's nothing he has to deal with personally; he has people for everything.

Leighton opens the door, thankfully wearing a long-sleeved turtleneck and some sweatpants. She starts toward me and I shake my head, trying not to be obvious about it. She stops and folds her arms across her chest and stands there, just as awkward as I am.

It's a fucking disaster. Could we act any more guiltily?

I get up and motion for her to sit, begging her silently to just do as I say. She doesn't look at me but follows my instruction.

My uncle looks between the two of us, an uneasy expression on his face. He opens his mouth to say something, but I interrupt him.

“Can we talk outside?” I ask, as calmly as possible.

He nods and I follow him out of the room, locking the door behind us. Turning around, I give him an impatient look.

“What's going on?”

He's silent for a beat, until finally, he says the words that shake my world. “It's fair you should know we're moving the girl.”

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