Page 6 of The Lost Kings
Dad was going to be so mad if he heard him.
Gio’s eyes rose to the glowing stars and then he smiled. “I felt bad about what I said when we were on the trampoline. I made you a sky that we will always share now, no matter what.”
Squeezing my stuffy closer to my chest I tilted my head back and smiled.
“This way you’ll never leave me.”
Gio reached out and held my hand. “Never, ever.”
Chapter 3
Presley
AGE 17
Growing up I learned how to take a hit, probably harder than was necessary, but my uncle’s methods were unconventional. Frayed knuckles I could tape up, glue together in some cases. Ice baths were helpful for the bruises and aching ribs I’d earned over the years. There were tools for every injury. Scotty taught me how to endure, how to eliminate weakness, and live without it myself.
Unfortunately, no one ever once considered that I might need to learn how to break.
Perhaps if they had, then I wouldn’t be tucked in my best friends’ empty bed, staring at artwork that we’d done together when we were kids. I wouldn’t be trying to take a hit off their pillows as if they were a drug just to feel as though they were still here.
I wouldn’t be doing this every night instead of sleeping.
If my parents or Scotty knew I was merely placing things inside of tidy compartments in my head and pulling them out to grieve over later, maybe they’d realize I needed help. I could complete the lessons given to me in a timely fashion and with precision, but then Iwas left alone. Left to wander the halls of a mansion that was split into four family wings, two of which were empty.
A salty tear slipped into a crack along my lip that hadn’t healed yet from my last training session. The sting was a reminder that I was human.
Alive.
Kingston used to say, “Plants can breathe, Presley, and if you’re ever unsure, just hide it from the sun and tear out its roots.”
I had argued something stupid just for the sake of arguing. Probably because I just wanted him to keep talking to me and I couldn’t stand the idea of him ever stopping.
The picture of the farm I drew as a kid taped above his bed shifted as the AC kicked on and it made my gaze wander over to the opposite side of the room.
Navy blue bedding was draped over a queen-sized bed; Gio’s posters were mostly related to star systems and how to navigate them. Moon rocks, glow worms, and a few NASA posters from when he wanted to be an astronaut.
Gio used to tell me I was the brightest star in his universe, then he’d pretend to blast me with some homemade star-blasting machine. He’d joke that I was so bright I needed to be broken into tiny pieces and shared.
The memory had my fingers curling tightly into the covers. Wetness tracked down my face as I glared at the ceiling. A flame burned deep in my belly to stand up and rip the image away from any place that anyone could ever see it again. Especially one of the brothers that had a hand in ruining me.
Because really there wasn’t one person who had a hand in breaking me…there were two.
My cousin Carterwas the same age as the twins, which meant she was a year and a half older than me. When we were younger, sheliked to rub that in my face and remind me that she was in charge. However, Alex, the twin’s older sister, would then remind Carter who was actually in charge, so while my cousin and I should have bonded, I drew closest to Alex and the twins.
Throughout the years, Carter and her parents would come and go, not really living in the manor like we did. It became easier to feel detached from her, and she didn’t understand why I was always training, nor did she care to know. She would typically arrive like a hurricane, toss her things, dump all her drama, and then make the weekend all about her before leaving again.
It used to bug me when I was younger, because I felt like I had no room to fit inside her larger-than-life world. She traveled more than me; she went to school. It wasn’t exactly public school, but private school was still better than doing your homework at the kitchen table while your uncle fed table scraps to the dogs.
Now, seeing her come in wearing a pair of two-hundred-dollar sunglasses, with extensions in that went past her ass, I was beyond grateful for her antics.
“Oh my god, did someone die? Why are you hugging me?” Carter was stiff, with her arms dropped to her sides as I squeezed her.
Finally releasing her, I let out a sigh. “Just so glad you’re here.”
She threw her purse, which was practically a duffel bag to the couch, and plopped down. “Well at least someone appreciates me.” She crossed her arms, and I took in how her reddish-brown hair had gotten lighter while her self-tanning applications had gotten darker. She’d inherited the James’ family mossy eyes that my dad, her, and Uncle Scotty all had. I was insanely jealous of that fact.
I sat next to her, tucking my feet up under me. “Why do you say that?”
