Page 7 of Ruin

“Yes, dude!” Kacey chuckles loudly, high-fiving Eli over the top of my head, I grit my teeth. “Who’s the lucky girl?” he asks, finally shoving a forkful of food into his mouth.

“Ivy,” Eli says dreamily, still staring up at his gift.

I stare up at it too, almost mesmerised by the thought behind it. It is interesting. I wonder if he will tell her that little white pearl is made from his semen or if he’ll just enjoy seeing her wear it unknowingly. The corner of my mouth lifts at the thought.

Kacey almost chokes beside me, prompting Huxley to scowl across the table at him.

“My fuckingcousinIvy?!” Kacey half shouts, half chokes.

“Yup,” Eli shrugs, pocketing the chain and pulling his array of plates back towards him.

“You’recourtingmy cousin? When the fuck did this happen?” Kacey stares across at Lala, looking like he wants her to agree with him; instead she shrugs, as though she’s not really listening at all.

The conversation continues, and I watch it all from beneath my lashes, roll my gaze down towards the head of the table.

My dad, Dee, sits in his usual seat, newspaper open in front of him, hiding, what is likely, a smile, from view, only the very top of his greying head poking above the black and white pages. Violet, his wife, my stepmother for all intents and purposes, on his left, they didn’t marry all that long ago but she’s been in our lives since Eli was a baby. I like her, she smells clean and floral. Her shiny brunette hair is pulled back, just brushing her shoulders in bouncy curls, her brown eyes warm as she spots me looking at her.

I turn my attention to the seat opposite her, down along my side of the bench, empty. Dad’s brother, Elliot, Kyla-Rose’s father, usually sits there but it’s not him I picture as I stare at the empty spot. I think of my older brother Jacob again and bite down on my back molars.

“Why are you here?” it’s me that asks, the words rasping out as tension pulls at the tendons in my throat, because she is not usually here.

She has her own house, her own breakfast table, her own family. All of it not supposed to be here.

This is my space now.

I swing my gaze slowly onto her, everyone seeming to be paying me attention. There is an intensity that is uncomfortable whenever we are together now. It is me. I do it. Purposefully. It is easier if I don’t spend as much time with her as we used to.

The infamous Chaos Twins.

Playing games and spilling blood.

I almost snort.

We don’t do any of those things together now. Well, not as we used to. Business related transactions only.

Her grey eyes latch onto mine, my bare chest brushing the edge of the table, the wood cool against my rapidly heating skin where I’m almost crouching over it. She cocks her head, eyes flicking all over my face, and I want her to look away, pop those too big eyes out of her fucking skull and nail them to the table.

“I came to see you,” she says huskily, not flirtatiously, it’s just her voice. “You don’t answer my calls,” I can tell it hurts her, to say it.

A pale flush in the top of her cheeks, she’s embarrassed I’m avoiding her and having to confess it in front of the entire family. But I don’t care. I want to watch her squirm.

She is too quiet, speaking only to me, despite everyone else having quieted now, to listen.

This family was once so incredibly full of secrets, all of us intent on keeping each other safe, we never uttered a word of them. And now, since Jacob, we’re all ravenous to hear more spill from other Swallow members’ tongues, just so our own don’t feel so debauched.

“Speak then.”

“Charlie,” she almost whispers, keeping those wide eyes on me, like if she focuses hard enough everything else will fall away.

That, or I’ll give in.

I can’t let myself do that anymore.

Not for her.

“Can we go downstairs?” she asks softly, too soft, too nice, too much.

I think of what I have hidden down there. The thing I said I would deal with. Feeling strangely protective of it, I shake my head, just once.

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