Page 59 of Splintered Desire

“What?” Patrick’s panic is palpable as he moves across the room and truly looks at his daughter.

Unfortunately, it’s been nearly a week, so most of her injuries have healed, but…

“She has a particularly nasty cut on her hand,” I offer and watch as his attention zeros in on the wrappings on her hand, and her wide eyes meet mine over his shoulder.

I ignore the pang of whatever it is that makes my chest feel tight with the clear betrayal I see there.

She knew better; we both did. One moment, a gift, a momentary truce, doesn’t erase years of loyalty.

Zela’s smart; there’s no denying that. She’d wrapped both of her hands to help give the appearance of her injury being a fashion choice. Between that and the frumpy sweater that she pulls down ‌over her fingers, it’s no wonder it was so easily overlooked.

It’s less easy to hide when someone’s looking, though, and even if she didn’t have a mark on her, we’ve just changed the game because I’d bet very good money that Patrick will now be paying attention.

“The right one,” Jace says, and I don’t need to see his face to hear the smile that pulls at his lips.

She balls her fists and yanks away from her father, making him pull back and look at her in disbelief.

“I’m fine, Dad,” she insists, but her words are harsh and clipped and not at all believable.

I look at Kolson, who watches his handiwork play out, and I see the gleam in his eyes that tells me how happy he is with the outcome.

“Zela.” Patrick tries to reach for her, but she pulls back again, and he huffs before his face hardens, and I know it’s only about to get better for us.

“Fine, if you won’t even talk to me, then you leave me no choice.”

Patrick turns, looking at the three of us, and I swear I can almost see the hesitation on his face, but he pushes it aside.

“Thank you for keeping an eye on her. She can be stubborn, but I’m all she’s had for so long. She’s not used to having someone look out for her. When she was little, I was gone a lot, but I appreciate what you're doing and would be beyond grateful if you would continue to keep her out of trouble.”

“Dad!” Zela exclaims, reaching for him, but Jace is there. It only takes him a second to undo the wrap, leaving the angry, red cut on display.

I see the emotions flash through her father's eyes: anger morphs into worry before he shakes his head, and his resolve hardens.

“I won’t lose you, Munchkin. Cut your old man some slack. We just want you safe,” he says, almost pleading with her to understand.

But it’s actually him who doesn’t understand.

How could he? The only version of us he knows is the one we let him see. To him, we’re just worried brothers looking out for our new little sister, trying to keep her safe from guys who would use her.

Us.

We’re the ones she needs saving from, but I’m not sure there’s anyone alive we wouldn’t go through to keep her at this point.

That ship has sailed, and now, DuPont or not, Zela belongs to us.

Her teeth dig into her bottom lip hard enough that I wouldn’t be surprised if she tastes the metallic tinge of blood as her eyes well with tears that she manages to keep from falling.

She could spill it all, and there isn’t much we could do to stop her.

Mother has no idea what we do, or anything about The Pit; she knew better than to ask. Father made sure of it.

I know she won’t, though; in fact, I don’t even feel the least bit worried that she might, not knowing what I do about her.

I watch as her eyes harden toward him, and I know she hates us.

She should.

“I’m an adult. I don’t need a babysitter,” she hisses, looking from Jace to Kolson and finally to me. The message in her eyes is clear, but none of us will be paying her any mind, not when we just got the okay from her father.