Growing Up and Other Tall Tales

Chapter 57

"Who's the father?" I ask one day

Rowena always sits with me after I take a beating. Sometimes, she brings a blanket, or a pillow or some water. Something to get me through that day and onto the next. Just scraping the line of staying conscious. How considerate.

"Whose father?"

"The baby's,"

"What baby?" she tilts her head, hands clasped on her lap, honest and genuine. She isn't mocking me or riling me up. She doesn't know what I'm talking about. I don't know whether it's safe for me to continue. I pause a little bit before,

What the hell.

"Your baby," I pat my own stomach and then point at hers

She blanks out a little bit and her hold on her knife falters. My eyes grapple on it. I register faintly. That's my way out.

"Not mine." She says confusedly before blinking and refocusing on me, sharp glare and all

I didn't want to continue this line of conversation because I'm not a therapist and because I didn't want her to panic and act brashly and do something she'd probably not regret: stab me clean through the heart.

"Why isn't your mother here?" she asks abruptly and I roll my head back so it hits the wall of this portable freezer, "It's been three days."

Three days

"I told you," I sigh and close my eyes. I've learnt to live with the ringing, learnt to keep my voice even, though I can't hear my own words. "She left me when I was born—why would she—she doesn't even know I'm missing,"

"Oh she does," Rowena looks at me and lifts her leg so she can rest her elbow on her knee, "So where's her cavalry?"

I look at her confused, "You mean Aiden?"

"We know him as Capo," Rowena says at me, her lip curled, "Second-in-command. The Guard Dog."

"Second-in-command to whom?"

"Your mother." She says and there's a glint of doubt that flashes across her eyes as if she's trying to dissect my reaction to assess if it's genuine. And then finally, "You don't know,"

I roll my eyes as far as I can without knocking myself unconscious and glared at her.

"The fuck have I been trying to tell you this whole time." I grit

"Do you know the things—" she shakes her head, "Your mother stole my brother from his cot,"

My head is still spinning.

"What?"

"The only boy who could run the empire." Rowena's teeth grinded, "I was under the shadow of a brother that wasn't even there."

I don't say anything. I glance at the knife twirling in her hand. It's giving me a headache. It had to stop.

"And he was taken from us. I thought it'll be over then but no, it's always what if he was with us." Her eyes were now hardening into ice crystals, "My parents were stupid. They paraded him around when he was born. He was so easy to steal. I should've killed him when I could've."

Her speech was highlights from fragments of her thoughts. My muscles clenched at the tone of her voice at the end. It was like a whimsical afterthought, like she could've ordered lava cake instead of apple pie if she knew that the lava cake came free with a pan pizza.

And somewhere, a small burst of defensive anger erupts in me.

If this bitch lays a hand on Aiden.