Page 58 of The Tenth Circle
Anger and recurring disappointment seeps from under the door frame.
“Please have that young lady make herself decent.”
The irony in my father’s statement is enough to entertain saints and sinners alike, but for his blood pressure’s sake, I throw myself off Seven.
“Not even Jesus can perform that miracle!” I shout, making her glower at me.
“What? I’ve seen you at church. We both know it isn’t helping.”
“You are such a piece of shit!” she hisses, climbing off the bed and snatching her clothes off the floor.
Resting my hands behind my head, I let out a deep sigh.
“So I’ve been told...”
Seven shoves her legs through her mini dress and slides it all the way up, then swipes her bag off the nightstand after adjusting herself. She’s already on the move when my father practices politeness andknocksthis time.
My eyes are trained on the ceiling when she yanks it open, my dad standing uncomfortably in the doorway as she marches past him.
Numbers these days…way too fucking sensitive.
“Saint Matthias,” my father snaps. “What did I tell you about this type of behavior in my house?”
“Not sure. It’s hard to remember words I tune out.”
He slams a palm against the door. “This is unacceptable! And with your sister in the next room? What are you teaching her?”
Throwing my legs over the bed, I sit up and prop a pillow over my waist. “Relax, will you? Theory went out.”
He crosses his arms. “She was here when I left for mass.”
“She told me she needed pads or some shit.”
“Well, then. She should be back soon.”
“Sooner than soon!” Theory chirps from the hallway, wandering into my room moments later with a shopping bag in her hand. “What’s up, Daddy?”
She finds me in all my glory, and her face contorts. “Ew, dude. Are you naked?”
I answer with a pinched thumb and forefinger.
“I’m assuming that’s why your skeezy girlfriend was stomping out of the house?”
“Fuck, no. Seven ain’t my girlfriend. And she was having a fantastic fucking time until Dad pulled a cock block.”
“Stop this talk! Right now. The both of you.”
When Theory and I set eyes on our dad, it looks as though an artery’s about to burst in his neck.
But it doesn’t seem to be only about me for a change.
He looks…guilty. Which we all know should be the complete opposite of a bible thumper.
“What’s the matter, Daddy?” Theory squeezes his shoulder, picking up on his demeanor just as fast.
His jaw tightens, and he cracks his neck. “I have something I need to tell you both.”
Both my sister and I raise our eyebrows in unison.
