Page 17 of Tattooed Love

Silence.

I could deal with one brother. I bet it was Troy, he was the eldest.

I then heard the second car door, quickly followed by a third. Before I could let out my breath, I heard the fourth door slam.

I fell back onto my bed. All four were here. ALL FOUR WERE HERE! I shouted louder in my head.

The slamming of the front door brought my attention back to reality. How would my brothers change me? They couldn’t, and they wouldn’t. I started to give myself a pep talk to calm down the nerves stirring in my stomach.

They wouldn’t change me because, for one, I would have to let them, and, two, I would have to listen to them. Neither of these two was going to happen.

Dad must’ve been out of his mind, thinking my brothers could fix this situation. If anything, they could only make everything worse.

There was only one good thing that would come out of them being here; dad might actually make an effort to be home at a reasonable hour.

“Amber!” My father’s voice rang up the stairs.

I stood in the upstairs hallway, trying to put off having to go down and face them, but, just like taxes, I couldn’t put it off forever, so I turned the corner and descended the large staircase.

I pulled my eyes from the carpet, and looked up as I entered the dining room.

My eyes were met by ten pairs of eyes.

I instantly directed all my attention to my father, not dropping my gaze or meeting my brothers’.

My father had a smirk on his face, like his master plan was about to unfold. I frowned, because, no matter how I looked at it, the truth was that my father held all the trump cards in this situation.

“Amber…” a dark voice called for my attention.

I finally came to terms with the fact I would have to face my brothers, and, by face them, I meant look them in the eye and try not to let the hatred I was filled with show.

I turned my head sharply, and faced Troy.

He had changed. His long shaggy black hair was gone and, instead, he had a number two haircut. He had become larger; I could see the defined muscles under his black t-shirt. His hand was rubbing his clenched jaw, and I could almost see the wheels in his head churning, planning his next move.

I raised my eyebrow.

A slow sigh left his lips.

His eyes gave me a once over, inspecting me.

I was sick of being treated like a darn science experiment gone wrong. “What?” I insisted.

His jaw clenched again and his hand dropped to the table. “You certainly have grown up,” he finally stated.

I gave him a deadpan look, and then rolled my eyes. Was he serious right now? After staring at me for that long, that’s what he had to say? Looks like the drugs were finally affecting his mind.

I gave my other three brothers a once over.

Adam. Tyler. Cole.

They all looked older and scarier, if that was even possible.

They all sat at the table, looking at me as if they had just been forced to witness a scene from a horror movie.

They all looked disappointed. Disapproving.

What the hell was the problem? Did they honestly expect to come back to find me still dancing around in my ballet flats? In a pink tutu?

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