"You think he'll let you?"
"You think he can stop me?"
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Margeux can't decide whether she's a sociopath, or a psychopath. Continuous events tend to sway her either way. Out of all the people she could kill on her eighteenth birthday, she en...
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THANKS TO BOTH Sasha and Elliot, and also Sasha's new job, I received access to all the old files my dad hid from me and therefore the location of my brother...who, by now, will be either twenty-seven or twenty-eight and saying he's twenty-seven in denial. If he's that type of adult.
"You bragged about not being nervous." Margeux says from beside me.
"I'm not."
"Then knock." She gestures to the door in front of us.
It's on a pretty busy street, a respectable looking home that's both so simple and so simultaneously obvious. And it's my brother's current address. Apparently. In California, where we arrived a couple weeks ago.
Margeux's little sister is called Violet. She's pretty cute. Margeux upon meeting her has made it her life mission to be the best older sister ever and gain her favour over her mother who I also met. Margeux's mother is...dull. Fine. Not evil, but also, I understand how to Margeux she is unlovable.
The two of them have an odd sort of relationship. It's more like an agreement, one where Margeux stays for Violet and leaves when her mother's boyfriend is around. He's a jackass. We had a conversation about whether or not we should kill him but decided it was too soon - especially considering our newfound freedom.
"I...will." I finally say, lifting my fist.
"If you don't, I will."
That gets me to do it. I knock before taking a step back from the tall building (sort of like a townhouse or multi family residential).
"Good job." Margeux whispers, humour in her tone.
"Shut up." I nudge her, heart beating fast.
See, the thing is, I downplay my relationship with my brother a lot. I think Sasha assumed we left on bad terms - but really, the two of us were just quite forcibly separated. My brother was my only friend in that house when we were growing up. He took a lot of hits for me, even if he couldn't take all of them. And I've always thought I'd meet him again, that we'd be...brothers. Or whatever. But it's possible he hasn't thought that either. Maybe he fell out of love for me since we've been apart so long. Or maybe he resents me for all the times dad hit him when he was taking the fall for something I did.
Footsteps from within the house alert me of another presence, someone inside. They get closer, and I hold my breath, trying to focus my attention on my sleeve where Margeux is soothingly rubbing it, as I wait for the door to open.
When it does, I do not see my brother. (Not that I would really know what he looks like anymore). I instead see a woman, one older than me but not old at all. She's got long dark brown hair and tan bronze skin. Her eyes are also an amber sort of brown and when she steps into the sun, there's an assortment of freckles that dust her cheeks.
