𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯 𝔟𝔬𝔶 [2]

18

I was burning despite the cold. The wind was whipping my hair around my face, for this moment, it was the perfect picture. The Earth seemed to scream around me and that's exactly what I wanted to do. Scream. 

Instead, I was leaning against the car, bent down far enough that I could see Gordon staring at us from the porch through the passenger side window. Although I could see him, I wasn't focused on him. Instead, I was focused on the passenger of the car. 

"He's your dad, is he not?" The teenage boy asks me, a slight smile playing across his lips. God, do I want to smack it off of him. I almost move to do it too. 

"Unfortunately." My voice matches the weather, cold. 

His smirk deepens as he reaches over, offering his hand to me, "Well, pleasure to meet you...sister." 

I glare down at his hand and then back at him, "Stop fucking smiling before I slap it off your face." I threaten. 

"Wren." My dad's voice is thick with a warning. 

I snap my attention to him, "Shut up or I'll hit you too." 

"So violent," My supposed brother turns to look at my dad, "She takes after you, doesn't she?" 

This time I reach over and I do slap him, "Do not compare me to him." 

He holds a hand to his cheek, nursing the burn of my hand, "I knew that was coming."

"Then why'd you provoke me?" 

The teenager shrugs, "For fun." His attitude reminds me of my dad, but the way my brother acts is more boyish and playful. I hate it. I roll my eyes and start to fully stand up again, "Wait, Wren. Please. I didn't know I had a sister till a month ago. I just want to talk. Please. I-we, want to be a part of your life." 

I look between the two of their faces. Their dark eyes matching, the only difference is the emotion I find in them. My father's eyes plead with me, they don't hold pity but they hold a certain sadness. My brother's eyes tease me. They're playful, but they're filled with hope. His eyes remind me of Gunnar's, the way they both know just how to tick me off and calm me down. Except I wasn't calm but I sure as hell was pissed off. 

"No, no." I laugh the last no, "I was doing just fine without you, either of you, in my life. I was actually starting to do good. I have a fucking boyfriend for god's sake, good grades, a good relationship with brother, I have friends. You don't get to come here and muck it up. So, I'm going to say this one time and one time only, get the fuck out of my neighborhood and stay the hell out of my life. Start your fucking car and drive away from here, away from me. Trust me when I say this, Dad, I never ever want to see you again." I stand up and slam the door on my father. I can see his face before I walk away, it's pained. 

What did he expect when he came here, a hug? A warm welcome back into my life? A chance to have a family with him and my new brother that I've never heard a peep about? I'd rather choke on a knife. 

I leave the car alone on the street as I walk back to Gordon, I can feel my forgotten family's eyes on me. I can feel the way they burn into the back. The color and the burn are the only two similarities I could find in their eyes. 

Gordon doesn't try to stop me as I storm past him, I just hear him close the front door as I march my way up the stairs and to my room. 

What I had said to them, I meant it. I was finally getting what I wanted; it probably was more than I deserved but I still had it. I had Adam, I had my brother, and I had my friends. 

I had long since mourned the fact that my mother was dead and my father was gone, so why did it hurt so much to see him again? 

The dead were supposed to stay dead. 

My father may not have died but in a way he did. He forfeited any right to my life when he got in the car drunk. Probably before that, probably when he took the first drink. He didn't die, but he was dead to me. He was more dead to me than my mom, who was buried six feet under in a cemetery in Illinois. 

Gordon had made his way up to my room and was knocking on my door with delicate knocks, "Wren?" There was a softness to his voice that made me want to tear my room apart. 

I had been staring at the bookshelf across from my bed until he had spoken, he had my full attention now, "Gordon." I answered. 

"Wanna talk about it?" 

"Did you know that I have another brother?" I ask Gordon. My glare has venom in it, but it isn't meant for him; I just hope he knows that. 

Gordon sighs and sits down on the bed, "No, I didn't know. I had an assumption, me and Erin both did." 

"You guys didn't bother to tell me?" 

"I might not have been standing next to you when you were yelling at your dad and who I'm assuming is your brother, but I could see how you reacted. I don't know, maybe that's what we were avoiding, but we also didn't know for sure. We didn't want to bring up your dad when we all know how you feel about him." 

I bite my thumb nail, "Did you call her?" 

Gordon nods once, "Yeah. I just got off the phone with her." 

"What did she say?" 

"She asked if she needed to fly back. I said no-" 

"Good." 

"She also asked if she could talk to you but I told her to give you time. There's one more thing." 

"What?" 

Gordon hesitates, not wanting to share what he needed to, "They're still waiting outside." 

I shoot up and off of my bed, practically sprinting out of my bedroom and across the hall to the window that faces the front of the house. 

Gordon wasn't lying. My father's broken old, red and rusty car was still sitting in front of our house. I resisted the urge to scream. I probably could go downstairs and scream at the two of them but that would just piss me off more.

"Want me to call the cops?" Gordon asks from behind me. 

"No."

"No?" 

"That's what I just said, hm?" I walk away from the window and take the stairs two at a time before I'm out the front door and walking up to the car. 

My father gets out, "Get back in the car, I'm not here for you." His face falls again as I open the passenger side door, "Get out." My brother turns to look at me, moving to slow for my liking, "You want to talk right? Well, get out of the car before I change my mind." 

He quickly unbuckles himself and I hear his steps behind me as I walk away from him, the car, and the house. 

To be honest, I didn't know where I was going yet. I just knew I'd get there eventually. I was also aware that whoever this kid was would follow me until I stopped walking. He wanted to talk, so he was going to talk.