Chapter 92
I looked at the clock on the wall.
3:56 AM
“I–I got a c–call.” He stuttered out.
And in that moment, I wished I was a kid again. A young kid, where naivety is a blessing and I wouldn’t know exactly what the hell was going on. A young, naive kid who could ask his big brother if his parents were finally on their way home, because he has no grasp or understanding of his brothers distressed state. A young, naive kid with no grasp or understanding of his brother’s distressed state, and could be pulled into said brother’s comforting embrace and lied to, being told that mommy and daddy were fine.
But, unfortunately, I wasn’t a child blessed with innocence and naivety.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, already knowing what’s going on based on Braeden’s expression, yet I asked anyway. “From…from who?”
“…the hospital.” He answered after a minute, his eyes downcast. I saw his lip quivering as he fiddled with his fingers, his hands shaking. “Mom and dad got in a car crash. Drunk driver t–boned them. The car flipped into a ditch…they didn’t make it.
And with that, my whole world came crashing down around me.
-FLASHBACK END-
We sit in tense silence as he keeps driving, and I stare out the window, clenching my fist.
Braeden had become my legal guardian as he had turned eighteen just months prior. He graduated high school, and went straight on to train to be a police officer, instead of going to college like he had discussed with mom and dad various times before. He’s now twenty–three and decided we needed a fresh start and requested a transfer, which is why we moved here.
Losing our parents is why I act like a complete and utter dick when it comes to new people. I don’t need other people to care about, only to be crushed when something happens. Everyone leaves one way or another, whether it’s because they’ve decided to walk out of your life, or because death’s taken them. Either way, it hurts just the same.
I’d rather be alone than make more friends.
Obviously, that didn’t work out very well.
Fuckin‘, Windora King.
“Yeah…” Braeden speaks after a long moment. His mood visibly dampens for a while before he perks up again, desperate to ditch the somber mood as he turns into our street. “So….are we just gonna ignore the fact that you took Winnie out on a date?”
I almost choke on my spit, reaching over and punching him in the side, causing him to laugh loudly while making sure not to lose control of the car. “It wasn’t a date!”
“Sure, it wasn’t.” He teases, laughing more when I punch him again. “Hey, don’t hit the driver!”
-Flynn-
My eyes snap open as a knock on the front door resonates through the empty house. I groggily sit up to find the TV playing some shitty rom–com and I switch it off before looking over at the clock on the wall. 11:23 PM. Knowing Winnie and Adonis,
22:37
The Heiress’s Shadow
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Chapter 92
they’re probably both getting yelled at right now because they lost track of time.
I curse as another knock hits the door. I quickly walk over, opening it.
“Octavia?” My eyebrows furrow as I stare down at her, my face scrunches slightly when the harsh scent of alcohol hits my nose. She pushes herself up off the door frame, swaying slightly as she grins wonkily up at me. Her eyes are bloodshot and red.
“Flynn!” She slurs excitedly, stepping forward and stumbling into my chest. She wraps her arms around my neck and my eyes widen. My hands hover in the air, not sure if I should really touch her or not.
“Are you drunk-” I cut myself off, rolling my eyes at my dumb question. “Of course you’re fucking drunk.”
“I’m not drunk.” She looks up at me seriously before her face breaks out with a wonky grin once again. “I’m wasted.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” I mumble, leading her over to the couch and sitting her down. “Stay here. I’ll go get you some water.”
“No!” She grabs my arm and pulls me down next to her, cuddling into my side. “Stay with me.”
I sigh. “Alright. Shouldn’t you be at home right now?”
She giggles. “I stole a bottle of Jack Daniel’s from the cupboard and told dad I was sleeping over at a friend’s.”
I look down at her in disbelief. “And you don’t think your police officer father will notice one of his bottles of alcohol missing?”
She giggles again, waving her hand nonchalantly. “That’s a problem for another time.”
“Great, so my best friend’s sister is drunk off her ass and sitting on my couch. Not to mention their dad fucking hates me.” I groan to myself, rubbing my face in exasperation. “He’s going to fucking kill me.”
“Don’t be silly.” She clumsily taps my nose. “Dad doesn’t hate you.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever.” I reach up and grasp her hand, pulling it away from my face. “Care to tell me why you showed up on my doorstep completely and utterly shit–faced?”
“Well,” she starts, eyes half closed as she moves off me and leans back against the couch. “It hurts.”
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Chapter 93
