Page 45 of The Lost Kings
She’d had boyfriends before.
Instead, I gracefully nodded while taking a small bite of food.
Dad continued, “I’m upset about what took place at the ball and I’m still unsure exactly where Kingston got the idea that it was his job to step in.”
I had no idea either; it was like he’d just picked up this need to be my protector out of nowhere.
“He’s hotheaded and doesn’t think through things before he ruins them,” Scotty murmured, keeping his eyes on his plate. While I agreed with him, I still felt the urge to defend my best friend, but I bit my lip instead.
“But I agree with your mother.” Dad placed his gaze on me, and I tried to tamp down my hope. “I think it’s time you get a little bit of socialization outside of this house. It could be good for you to be around kids your own age and learn how to be around them.”
Oh my god. It was happening; they were going to let me go. Elation filled my chest like warm, fuzzy cotton. It had a squeal of happiness erupting from my throat as I jumped out of my seat and rounded the table, hugging my dad. “Thank you, I won’t let you down. I promise!”
Dad hugged me to him then sighed. “Just hang on a second. Scotty has a condition.”
Of course he did. Releasing my dad, I glanced over at my uncle, awaiting whatever his ridiculous condition would be.
Scotty set his fork down and gave me his full focus. “You’ll go under a different first and last name. You will not drive yourself. You will carry a weapon at all times.”
I moved my head, agreeing with him on all fronts because it didn’t matter what name I used as long as it meant I’d get to leave and be around other people.
“Lastly,” Scotty added, giving me a sly smile, “the twins must go with you.”
The air nearly left my lungs. “What? No…Kingston is the entire reason we?—”
Scotty put his hand up, stopping me. “Those boys would set themselves on fire to protect you. You convince them to go and they get the blessing from Juan and Taylor to go, then you’ll be enrolled by Monday.”
“But they’ve already graduated!” There was no way they’d willingly go back to high school, especially just to be my protectors.
“I can create documents that say they haven’t. They’re only seventeen; it won’t be a difficult thing to fake.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, honey,” Dad said, grabbing for a piece of garlic bread. “You’ll have to convince two seventeen-year-old boys to babysit you, and they’ll have to win their parents over to do it. I’m not sure there’s much of a chance for you.”
My heart squeezed tight as my hope began to plunder. “Can’t you talk to Juan?”
He smirked and shook his head. “I’m afraid the twins are where my opinion stops counting. They’ve been protective of the boys getting mixed up in our mess since before they were born. They might relent because it’s just school but still…” He took a big bite of bread. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
I sank into my chair again and pushed the food around my plate feeling strangely depressed. This meant I was going to have to forgive Kingston for what he did, and then beg him to help me out.
Great.
My phone showedit was close to midnight when I finally built the courage to talk to the twins.
With a heavy sigh, I flipped my duvet back and got out of bed. During the warmer time of year, I slept up in my loft, which wassmaller and had less space, but I liked being near the large window that opened out to my small veranda ledge. Dad had opted for an expensive but old piece of glass that had two pieces that opened, kept closed by a single gold hook. Just like in Peter Pan.
I hadn’t walked over to their side of the house in months, but it didn’t matter, I still knew the path like the back of my hand. Even in the dark, under only a blanket of stars to keep me company.
Pulling on a hoodie and a pair of slippers, I kept my sleep shorts on and pushed the glass panes open, revealing a small patch of black shingles and a dark sky. The two arches on either side of my veranda kept the wind at bay, but once I was out, I pulled my window closed and then braced my hands before stepping around to the pathway.
White light lit up a few clouds hovering overhead, and distant thunder rumbled as the wind coiled through my hair. It made the longer strands whip against my face. I pushed it back and kept my eyes down on the small pathway in front of me. My window was on the complete opposite end of the mansion, so I had to be careful as I walked. While my footing was sure, the wind was much stronger with it being close to the end of February. My hoodie was no match for the air that bit at my legs and the moisture in the air that crowded my lungs.
I moved faster, until finally I saw the ledge that led to Gio and King’s room. It had the same flat veranda area in front of the window but theirs was a bit more modern. Tonight, the window was shut but they never kept it locked.
I pulled up on it right as rain started falling in heavy drops against my face. I straddled the ledge with one leg and ducked under, pushing inside and falling flat on their loft floor. I got to my knees and sat up, a plume of smoke drifted up from the corner.
“What in the fuck are you doing,Elvis?” Kingston rasped while tipping his head back from the two-seater couch he was reclined on.
Something fluttered in my chest at the cadence of his voice, but it dove into my stomach painfully fast when I registered he’d called me the wrong nickname. I hated when he called me Elvis, it always feltlike he was making fun of me. Even being annoyed with him, I couldn’t help but notice the thing swooping in my chest was the same wicked thing that had beat against my breast in that closet, when he was standing so close to me. I’d been so angry, and yet I’d burned as if he’d set me aflame.
