Page 49 of Apathy
My stomach growled as I passed through the kitchen, noticing that none of the staff were here today. Did Dylan send them home? The counters were spotless, dirty dishes were nowhere to be seen, and I wondered if Dylan washed it all. Who prepared the food?
Step by step, I entered the bright dining room, seeing my father at the head of the table, with Dylan on his right side.
“Skylar!” my father boomed with a smile and stood up, walked around the table, and stopped in front of me. “I missed you.”
His arms came around me, pulling me into his embrace. I tried to relax, tried to remember all the good things, but as he dragged one of his hands over my back, I stiffened further, fighting the shivers racking my body. He had been away from the West Coast for a couple of days, attending a funeral for his best friend, Nikolai Aster. I would’ve thought that he would be in a sour mood, but he seemed genuinely happy to see me, even though he saw me just yesterday and lectured me about the importance of my safety and not to wander into the forest on my own.
“You saw me yesterday, Dad.” I fought against the shivers and plastered a smile on my face, finally hugging him back.
“So what?” he asked as he pulled back. “Can’t I miss my favorite daughter?”
“You mean your only daughter?”
He waved his hand and walked back toward the table. “Semantics.” The chair scraped over the floor as he pulled it back and sat down, eliciting shivers all over my body. I fucking hated that sound.
Dylan kept looking at me as if I was going to start crying at any moment, reminding me again how annoyed I was with his behavior. I could understand him being worried, but this whole hovering, worrying, asking me where I was going constantly, messaging and calling me, it just had to stop. I already felt like I was losing my mind with everything that was going on around me, and his suffocating behavior wasn’t helping.
“Sit down, Little One,” Dylan started, indicating a chair next to him. I wanted to ignore him and sit somewhere else, but deep down I knew he was coming from a good place, and if everything else went to shit, at least I would always have my brother.
“So,” my father boomed as he started cutting through his steak. “How are things?”
Really, Dad?
I walked toward the chair Dylan chose for me and sat down, removing the napkin from the plate, and placed it on my lap. I had to bite my tongue and swallow the retort threatening to erupt from me. Mentioning dead girls and my name on Megan’s body, as well as cryptic and psychotic messages were not the themes I wanted to have today. My overthinking was already becoming too much to deal with, and I wanted to enjoy the quiet evening.
“Good,” I murmured. “I’m probably going out in an hour or so.” I refused to look at Dylan, keeping my eyes on the roasted potatoes in the middle of the table. But ignoring him was never truly an option and I could feel his eyes burning into the left side of my face.
“Skylar,” Dylan all but growled, his tone full of unspoken warnings and words I didn’t want to hear.
“Lauren is having a party tonight, just a small gathering,” I continued, ignoring my brother. I picked up a few potatoes from the bowl right next to the roasted chicken and placed it on my plate. I wasn’t hungry, but I’d be damned if I didn’t try.
“Skylar!” Dylan’s voice thundered around us and the fork he was holding went flying over the table, landing on the other side. “I thought we talked about this?”
“No, Dylan.” I turned toward him. “You tried to order me around. You talked, I listened, and I decided not to follow your advice.”
If looks could kill, I would be a dead person right now.
His face darkened, the menacing look replacing the otherwise loving, brotherly look he always had for me. He gripped the napkin he had on his lap and threw it on his plate over the half-eaten chicken breast and potatoes, then stood up.
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation again.”
“And I can’t believe you’re again trying to boss me around, when I am not a small child anymore,” I threw back. Our father kept quiet, his eyes traveling from Dylan to me, and the other way around. He continued eating, ignoring the blazing inferno spreading through the house.
I never thought I would say this, but I wished that Dylan had gone back to Seattle. At least then he wouldn’t be growly all the time, bossing me around and trying to make decisions for me.
“It’s not safe!” I flinched at the tone of his voice, trying to keep my emotions at bay. Now wasn’t the time to lose it. “There’s someone out there, killing people—”
“And what do you expect me to do, Dylan? Huh?” I was beyond angry. “Should I stop living my life because somebody carved my name on her body? Would that appease you?”
“It fucking would!”
The veins on his neck popped out from the force of his thunderous roar, and his face reddened, making him look as sinister as… No, no, no, I was not going to think about that. Not now, not today.
“You know what?” I stood up, placing the napkin next to my plate. “Fuck you.”
I couldn’t deal with him and his sudden mood swings anymore. He went from protective to overbearing in a matter of two weeks, and that was the last thing I wanted.
“Excuse me?” he croaked out, disbelief lacing his tone.
