“Glyndon talks about you all the time, said you’re her favorite brother.” Not really, but she would’ve definitely gone for that angle if it were the case. And I’m hitting two birds with one stone.
Brandon will feel special. Landon will be rejected out of the favorite position. Not that I think he cares much about that, but it’s a pride thing and we care about pride.
“She also said she wished you’d all get along better,” I continue in an almost soothing voice, imitating Mom’s tone when she talks to us. “It breaks her heart when you guys are fighting, and she wishes she could do more to be the bridge between you two.”
Brandon’s stance slowly relaxes and the corners of his eyes soften.
“Get it the fuck together,” Landon bites out. “He’s manipulating you, Bran.”
“Why would I?” I still speak in the same tone. “I’m not asking anything from you, am I? I’m just relaying what Glyndon told me. I felt bad for her when she said that she was trapped between you two, which is why she prefers dinners at your grandfather’s house instead of back home.”
That’s something I gathered from her Instagram. She has more pictures with her grandfather and grandmother than with her parents. She has more pictures with Bran than with Lan.
She has more pictures with her friends than with her brothers.
It’s funny how people narrate their lives through their social media subconsciously. It’s why I make my own narrative that no one can read behind.
Except for fucking Glyndon who put everything together about the absence of Dad from my Instagram, obviously.
Brandon’s stance loses all the stiffness from earlier and the haunting sound of the key against the hood makes me pause. Not for long, though.
I knew Landon came with plans to scratch my car, and as much as I’m tempted to bash his head on the metal and fill the scratches with his blood, there are more important things at stake.
Such as Brandon’s approval.
“Your brother obviously doesn’t understand reason, but I’m sure you do.” I step forward. “I’m on your and Glyn’s side.”
“Back the fuck off,” Landon says while still vandalizing my car.
The garage will fix that. But only I can keep this leverage in the current situation.
“How do I know you’re not using her?” Brandon asks a very logical question.
“If I were using her, I would’ve gotten bored within the first two days and let her go.”
Which is true.
Fuck.
If I’m not using her, then what am I doing with her exactly?
People only fall into three categories for me.
Worth being used.
Not worth being used.
Neutral.
She’s in none of the above.
But I’m sure she’s in there somewhere, because she holds enough space to fuck up my day.
“That’s not as reassuring as you were trying to make it sound,” Bran says with a raised eyebrow.
“I could’ve lied, but I chose not to. Glyn said she likes my honesty.” Before she fucking ghosted me because of it.
Brandon smiles a little, probably knowing how true that statement is, and it takes effort to hide my smirk as I stare back at the other brother.
Destroy my car all you want, but guess who’s winning, Landon?
Not you.
Yes, Brandon may not come around right away, but he’ll get there. Unless Glyndon runs her mouth and ruins it.
But even if she does, I’ll start from scratch to earn the nice brother’s approval.
All the effort I’m making for this fucking rabbit is starting to piss me off, but still, it’s entertaining.
I’m about to push a little further, just because I can, but a tiny figure approaches us in moderate steps, completely oblivious to the tension in the air.
Her blonde hair is gathered in a long ponytail with a fuck ton of ribbons that match the ones on her black dress, boots, and bag.
She’s like a fucking Goth Barbie, sans the black hair, and a creepy 2.0 version of Mom and Aunt Rai.
Oh, and this is about the worst timing to come find me.
My cousin Mia, who’s a year younger than me, holds a container of food and smiles at me, brightly, and I know not to take that shit for granted.
I know I’m one of the few people she smiles at.
Her steps come to a halt when she sees what Landon has done to my car and stares at him with a furrowed brow, then at the key in his hand, then at the map of horror on the red paint.
Be ready for your ride to be thrown off a ditch, motherfucker.
She puts the strap of the food container over her shoulder, letting it hang on her side, and signs, “Why did this fucking tool ruin your car and why is he still breathing?”
I smirk. Good question, cousin.
The answer is something I don’t even want to admit to myself, though.
I’d probably be blacklisted from Glyn’s life if I hurt her brother—even if he is a slimy motherfucker. But that doesn’t mean I won’t make this asshole’s life miserable.
“And now, we have a mute in our ranks.” Landon smiles, knowing full well that this changes the balance of power from earlier. “Brilliant.”
“Lan, stop it,” Bran warns.
“Call her a mute again and I’ll skin you alive,” I say with enough menace to make my vision go red.
Mia is the only person on earth who’s told me, or more like signed to me, that “It’s okay to be different, Kill. I still love you.”
And I would murder for her. No questions asked.
“What’s wrong with calling a mute a mute?” Landon continues smiling, having already forgotten about scratching my paint. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
“Tell him I don’t mind one bit and I’m also sure he wouldn’t mind this,” Mia signs to me, then flips him both her middle fingers while smiling sweetly.
He narrows his eyes, his humor vanishing. Brandon smiles and turns to me, “Please apologize to her on my brother’s behalf.”
“She can hear you,” I say. “She just doesn’t speak.”
She signs to me and I tell Brandon, “She said not to apologize on behalf of, and I quote, ‘a motherfucking tool, who’s polluting the air with his breath,’ because you’re not responsible for his actions.”
“You’re right.” He offers her his hand. “I’m Brandon.”
She shakes it and looks at me.
“Mia,” I say. “My cousin.”
They smile at each other, already seeming to get along. I haven’t thought about this before, but it’s another opportunity to get Brandon on my side regarding his sister.
I owe you one, Mia.
Note to self, buy her more ribbons.
“How do you curse in sign language?” Landon asks, probably to be a dick, because he can’t handle how everyone in this scene is now against him.
She flips him off again while smiling.
“Like that,” I supply for her, and Brandon does a failure of a job in hiding his smile.
“Let’s go eat,” she signs, completely ignoring him. “I made you pancakes. I tried finding Nikolai, but that dork is MIA. And Maya was like ‘Bitch, get out before I stab you.’ In fucking capital letters. That shit becomes mental when her sleeping time is interrupted, and I’m looking for therapy for her issues. It happens on Tuesdays if you’re interested in joining. Oh, and Gareth isn’t answering my texts, and I’m so gonna tell Aunt Reina he’s ghosting me.”
“So I’m your last choice?” I raise a brow.
She laughs like a little hellion, then hits my shoulder and signs, “You know you’re my favorite.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Tell Brandon to come along,” she signs. “He’s obviously the nice twin.”
“She’s inviting you to eat with us.” I motion at Brandon, and he surprisingly nods and walks toward us.
Good. I can ask him questions about his difficult sister who’s still not answering me.
I swear to fuck, I’m going to put a tracker on her phone next time I see her.
“You have seven days to cut ties with Glyndon or we’ll do it my way,” Landon announces, accentuating his words with one last scratch to my car before he stalks in the other direction.
“Let me go get him, Kill,” Mia signs. “I’ll bite his head off.”
“What the fuck? You’re not a dog.” I laugh, then say more seriously, “Stay out of this. I mean it. This is my fight and I don’t want you in the middle.”
She pouts, but then she releases a sigh and nods.
Brandon rubs the back of his head. “You should probably take his threat seriously.”
“Nah, he doesn’t scare me.”
“He should. Don’t underestimate him.”
“Oh, I won’t. I also won’t let him put his nose where it doesn’t fucking belong.” I smile. “Now, who wants some pancakes?”
The little rabbit can ghost me all she wants. She refuses to talk to me? Fine.
But I’ll make sure she’s the one who comes running, not the other way around.
GLYNDON
Today is just not my day.
Not only did the girls grill me about all the Killian drama, but I also got an earful from Professor Skies due to being late. The icing on the cake was bumping into a glass door after class.
In my defense, the last one happened because of all the people who kept watching me as if I were an exotic animal.
Attention isn’t my scene, but that wanker went ahead and put me at the forefront of everyone’s mind.
They wouldn’t stop talking about me behind my back, whispering, and murmuring, and making my anxiety shoot up.
I contemplated hiding in the bathroom for a bit, but then I thought that I don’t really owe people anything and shouldn’t be feeling ashamed about that kiss.
Yes, the bastard is at the top of my shit list, but that doesn’t mean I have to feel any form of shame.
So I held my head high, barely, finished my classes, and then went to the art studio.
We were supposed to paint a nude today, with one model for about fifteen students, but I realized halfway through that the features and the body lines on my canvas weren’t the model’s.
Far from it.