Page 6 of Kai
Remorse soured my belly. Father was mean to all of us, but he’d made a science out of harassing, insulting, and raging at me. After years of verbal abuse, I’d learned to fight back. Anger was my default mode. To defend myself and my sisters, I’d developed a temper. It allowed me to transform into a bitch on wheels whenever I felt threatened.
It came in handy all too frequently.
I never allowed myself to cry, or to fall apart, or to look weak. With the exception of anger, I suppressed most of my emotions. I was tough on the outside, and I worked hard to keep up the façade, even in front of my sisters. Why?
Because they needed someone strong to fight for them, and that someone was me.
But inside…?
It was a different story, one I never shared with anyone, a constant, painful churn of emotions I refused to face because I feared that, if I did, I might fall apart, for good. And if I fell apart, who would protect my sisters?
I wondered if I’d gone too far that night. Nix, our older brother, had been killed in battle only a few weeks before. Father was grieving his heir, born and bred to carry on his legacy, and his crushed dream of an Astor empire led by an Astor male.
Hell, we were grieving the death of our brother, too. Nix had been warm, brave, and kind, unlike Father. He’d defied Father’s wishes and joined the Marine Raiders. He’d been my soul’s twin, the best brother a gal could ask for, and funny to boot.
I still couldn’t believe he was gone.
On top of that, the same mission that took Nix’s life had wounded Dash, who’d been Thena’s boyfriend for ages and was like another brother to me. The icing on this cake of misery was that, for reasons only Thena knew, she’d ended things with Dash, ripping his strength from our lives, weakening our already crumbling foundation as a family.
So, yeah, it was bad. We were all at our lowest, and yet Father’s behavior was wrong. The greatest tragedy for him was having his succession plans dashed. It took precedence over the grief that smothered our souls and snared us in the darkness of our deep mourning. Who gave a fuck about money and succession when Nix was gone?
We were all drowning.
Drowning…
Even now, years later, sitting at my desk at the lighthouse, my skin crawled as the memories flooded me. Everything changed that night. While we waited for Missy to come back to us, a helpless, hopeless sadness settled over us. A heavy silence weighed us down. The tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the hallway marked the long minutes.
I took in our lovely Missy, her stark features, her pale face and inert body. She looked more dead than alive. My gaze shifted to Thena. The suffering that deepened the lines bracketing her wide mouth sifted into my aching bones. Hell, even feisty Affie went quiet, as if her spirit’s bright flames were being smothered by the passing time. My heart throbbed with desolation that got worse with each beat.
I reconsidered Affie’s question.
Someone had to think of a way out of this misery. Thena was too kind and loyal to step outside the box. Missy was too shy and quiet to take the initiative. Affie was a flowing fountain of ideas, but she was also a free spirit who never focused on anything for long.
It hit me like a roundhouse kick to the head.
Iwas the person to do this, my sisters’ protector, the most pragmatic and logical of us, the one with the self-discipline to design a plan and see it through. The burden dropped onto my shoulders like a massive yoke. Perhaps Affie was right. Maybe we could all disappear. Father was rich and powerful. He would never stop trying to control our lives; but what ifIcould devise a way to cuthimout of our lives?
It was the last time I saw Father, the night I began to plan our escape.
Out of the funk, Astor.With a mental yank,I bailed from the past and returned to the present, ignoring the emotions clogging my throat.Enough with the memories.
I flipped over my microscope’s stage clip and replaced the failed specimen with another slide. I’d used a different stabilizing compound. Maybe this one would turn out differently.
Work helped me cope with the shitty memories. It occupied all the space in my head, smothering emotion with science and reason. It pushed aside the anger and the sorrow and allowed me to forget, at least for a little while. Sure, it was a coping mechanism, as escapist as Affie’s romantic fantasies, but at least it helped me deal with the pain, and hopefully someday, it would amount to a scientific breakthrough, something helpful that would justify my existence.
I fiddled with the glass slide, then stared at the microscope. I’d left Astor House, parted from my sisters, and setout on my own to be free. But freedom was not real when I had to hide in the middle of nowhere to prevent my father’s minions from finding me and dragging me back to his detestable world. I’d gone from his jail to a prison of my own making. Worse, I missed Nix, Dash, Thena, and Missy. Hell, I even missed Affie, the sharp-tongued harpy.
Guilt simmered in my gut. I’d been the motor behind our escape plan. I was the one who’d fleshed out the concept, organized the resources, and established strict parameters to ensure our disappearances. When I’d brought the plan to my sisters, Thena balked, Missy wavered back and forth, and Affie was a hundred percent on board.
In the end, my plan had cost me my sisters. We didn’t have a mother and our father was an asshole, but we’d had each other. Until we broke. UntilIbroke, and thenIbroke us apart.
I shifted my gaze to the colorful photo box that stood on the corner of my desk. It was the only keepsake I’d brought along when I escaped the Astor universe. It held some small mementos, but I never opened the box, afraid of the emotional pain the memories unleashed.
Reaching out, I dragged the box before me and stared at the picture displayed on the lid. The Rocky Mountains rose in the distance, as huge and majestic as I remembered. Swathes of gold and red skirted the slopes where the aspens’ changing colors announced fall’s arrival. Standing against the brilliant background were the five people I loved the most in the world. And me, of course.
It was the last photo we had of Nix before he died, the last memory of all of us who’d grown up together under Father’s tyranny. The Astors Renegades, we used to call ourselves.
In the picture, we stood together, bundled against the wind, with our backpacks piled at our feet. We had just returned from an amazing hike. Thena anchored one end ofthe frame, leaning on Dash, who perched a possessive arm over her shoulder. Missy’s hand rested on Dash’s other arm, right beneath his folded elbow. She flashed her toothy grin, the one that dazzled me even now.
