Page 27 of Dark Rules

My brother, I’d said to myself. My phone buzzed, and I’d reached for it. I didn’t have to look at the screen to know it was Trent. I could almost swear I felt rage emanating from my phone. It buzzed again, another message. Then it started to ring.

“Who’s that?” Dylan asked and looked at me.

“Just a relative.” I dismissed. “Nobody important.”

We still didn’t talk about my family. I knew he didn’t have any siblings, blood or adopted, but I’d kept my family a secret. It was stressful sometimes, hiding my real name and trying not to give information away about who I was and, more importantly, who my family was. But the anger he’d shown earlier, the way he’d reacted to seeing Trent.

I had to wonder if he’d use me to get back at Trent. I thought I could trust him not to, but I wasn’t positive. That anger was on the verge of irrational, even if it was justified to a degree. No, it would do no good to come clean now.

A thought from a while back came to me then. I’d glanced at him, smiled, and turned the phone off. He might think Trent was using me to get to him, if he found out who I was. He might think I’d betrayed him, used sex and our contracts to get close to him, to get dirt on him to give to Trent. It was all a fight I knew I couldn’t win, unless Dylan trusted me to be an honest person.

I was related to Trent, and I knew how people were. An entire family would be painted with the same brush one member of the family had been painted with. He’d probably think I was as dishonest as Trent was.

I pushed down on the couch, my energy suddenly gone. This was exhausting, and it was starting to be a game I was too tired to play. Dylan patted my feet and broke into my thoughts.

“Do you want me to go, pet? I know you aren’t feeling well?” He smiled at me, a smile of acceptance, and I knew he’d cared about me on some level.

“No, you can stay. Could you get me that ginger ale you’d promised?” I smiled and put my foot on his leg.

“Yeah, I’ll run down to the gas station on the corner and get you some. I saw there wasn’t any in the fridge when we got back. I’ll be gone ten minutes. Do you want anything else?”

“Maybe some plain chips? Something that will be easy on my tummy?” I didn’t really want them, but it would make my upset tummy excuse more believable. I hated to lie in any way to Dylan, but it was necessary to get him out of there earlier. Besides, I’d lied enough already, hadn’t I?

Guilt ate at me, but he didn’t notice. Instead, he pecked me on the cheek and left to go to the store. While he was gone, I turned my phone on and scrolled through the messages. Trent was just a little angry. That little angry soon escalated though as a dozen text messages made my phone almost vibrate apart.

I saw that one and threw my phone at the wall. Pain tore at my heart, hurt and anger pierced it, and tears streamed from my eyes. What the hell was wrong with my brother? Didn’t he have any love for me at all?

It hurt reading his words, but they were what I’d expected from him. Jesse was the only person he’d ever loved, the only one he’d ever been gentle with. I’d witnessed it when he was with her time and again, and it was incredible how different he was with her. He’d even started to be more accepting of our brothers once he’d started a relationship with Jesse. But me? I was still the outcast. The one on the fringes, the help. No better than a maid whose loyalty he obviously expected.

Well, he could fuck right off. I went in the kitchen, took down the bottle of scotch I’d added to my pantry for Dylan, and took a slug before I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. My eyes were red, but it would only add to the lie that I was ill. I swiped a strip of toilet paper over my nose to make sure it was dry, flushed it away, and then went to arrange myself on the couch just as Dylan came in and went to the kitchen.

“Here you go, my sweet,” Dylan called out as he brought me a glass of ginger ale with ice into the living room.

“Thank you, it’s so sweet of you.” I thanked him and sipped at the sweet soda. It was soothing to a stomach that really was upset now.

The problem was, ginger ale wouldn’t soothe the aching knot of pain in my stomach. Trent had really hurt me with his words, with the anger he’d oozed into that message. He’d wanted to hurt me, or he’d have chosen different words. My brother and I had both been well educated, so he knew how to use his words. That message was designed to let me know exactly what he thought of me.

I saw my phone in the floor and glanced at Dylan. He didn’t notice it there. I got up and went to retrieve it. I kicked it into the hallway and the carpet that ran throughout most of the house muffled the noise. Dylan looked up as I headed toward the bathroom. “Poor babe.”

“I’ll be back in a second.” I picked the phone up and tried to turn it on. Nothing happened, and I knew I’d have to buy a new one. Again. It hadn’t helped to get a new number and new phone. My family had obviously got the new number anyway, somehow, and they’d find out any new number I might get. I’d still have to get a new phone, though.

With a sigh, I went to the bathroom, flushed the toilet, then plodded to the couch. He’d think I’d actually been in the bathroom at least. He’d put one of my favorite movies on while I was gone and smiled at me when I got back on the couch.

“I hope you don’t mind; I really like this movie,” he said as I pulled the cover over me, and he’d arranged it on my feet.

“No, it’s one of my favorites too.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have thought you were a fan of Mad Max movies, but you’re always full of surprises, aren’t you?” He patted my feet, and I smiled, but it was a distracted smile.

For a minute I’d thought about asking him to go home, and I’d call him and end it, just to end the madness, but then he’d put that movie on. And he’d put the cover on my feet, as if he’d really cared about me. I didn’t want to end it, I’d decided. I was infatuated, at the very least, and I didn’t want to give up the one person who had made me feel as if I’d mattered. Not yet.

Dylan

“I’m in trouble.” I said to Roxie a few days later. There were only a few days left in the contract. A few days in which I had to make a decision. I already had. The new contract in the pocket of my suit jacket told me that. It was just a matter of getting it out and asking Stephanie to sign it.

“What’s up?” She turned to me, a look of concern on her face.