Page 100 of The Photograph

“Yes, baby.”

“You … you can date Vanessa if you want.” She clears her throat. “I mean, it’s obvious you’re more than just friends, so if you want to, it’s okay with me. We …you and I, we can be friends—”

When I swear, Mike comes by my side and tilts his chin up in a question.

Pressing the cell tighter against my ear, my voice comes out hard. “Come again?”

Aelin sucks in a breath. “Gabe, us dating. It’s … it’s not working. Thank you for … for being … you with me. I have to go. Chris wants to talk to us. Bye.”

When she hangs up, I crush the cell in my fist.Thank you for being me with her? What the fuck does that even mean?

Mike frowns. “What’s wrong? The girls okay?”

I stare at my cell. “I just got dumped.”

My brother’s brows hit his hairline. “Why? What did you do?”

“Fuck if I know.”

****

Aelin

I pad slowly out of Cara’s room with a pile of her clothes in my arms I dump on my bed, careful not to stumble on the two suitcases opened on the floor. She’s finally asleep and I pack methodically for both of us, lots of black, comfortable clothing and heels—shoes for me, boots for her.

My father was my bogeyman. When I was little I was scared of the dark, so Cara told me to think of the colors of the rainbow before going to sleep.

After she left, I did it every night. We’ve moved so often, I’ve developed a super efficiency at packing, but this time is different because when we return we’ll be orphans.

I close my eyes and breathe deeply once, and again, until I’m a little more centered. I check my watch. It’s 2:08 AM, but I’m too wired to sleep.

In a single day, I’ve lost my father and … Gabe. My cell chimes. It’s a message from Chris to tell me he’ll pick us up at 8:00 AM.

The message is only addressed to me because he knows I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I reply with a thumb up to which he replies:Get some rest.

An hour later, I listen to his advice and fall into a dreamless sleep.

At 7:23 AM after I prep breakfast for Cara and Chris, I grab a cup of tea and go to my studio where I set a blank canvas on my sketch table and start to draw.

Tap. Tap.I jump and whip my eyes to the window.Who…?Staring at Gabe and Mitch, I open the door to let them in. Both dressed in black, the brothers stand before me looking … I don’t know.

Mitch pecks my head under Gabe’s intense stare.

“What are you doing here?”

He tilts his chin up and somehow looks bigger as he crosses his arms on his chest.

“We’re coming with you.”

This time I turn to Gabe. “Both of you?”

When they nod sharply, the resemblance between them hits me. Gabe’s wider, but the commanding presence is definitely in the genes.

This isn’t a battle I want to fight, and Cara needs Mitch. “All right. I’ve only made breakfast for three. We’re going to need more food. Let’s go.”

On our way to the house, I catch the reflection of their expressions in the backdoor kitchen as they glance at each other before they follow me in the house. Cara throws herself in Mitch’s arms at the same moment the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it,” Gabe says, and as he makes his way to the front door, I hurry to the kitchen where I get busy whisking eggs for a gargantuan omelet.

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