Falling For A Criminal

Falling For A Criminal - Chapter Three*

Rolling my eyes, I walked over to my bed and mumbled a quick, “I've been doing it for the past four years without you,” and continued doing my homework. He must have heard it because he paused for a second and looked at me with what appeared to be hurt and annoyance in his eyes.

“Adri, you know I wouldn't hit you-”

“-really?” I interrupted, “Because I'm pretty sure had I not said anything you would have done it.”

Clenching his jaw, he looked away from me and down at the floor. “I've had to be nothing but intimidating for four years. I'm just used to having to scare people away.”

I wanted to get up from the bed and wrap my arms around him after that. To be able to tell him that I wasn't one of the people he had to keep his guard up around, but I stayed in my spot on the bed and simply looked at him with a sympathetic look in my eyes. “But I'm your sister.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but just as he did, the door flew open and we came face to face with my father. We—my brother and I—just stared at him with a look of both shock and fear on our faces and wondered what was going on in his head. My father wasn't the type of person to keep his thoughts to himself, but in this case, I don't think he'd mind doing just that. He was the last person to talk to my brother before he left; he practically begged him not to go, but it wasn't for the reason that everyone thinks. My mother was the beautician with her whole career ahead of her; my father was a politician and he needed to keep up the whole 'I Have The Perfect Life' image in order to get the praise he needed. My brother leaving would have messed that up, and when he went missing for four years, I guess you can assume that my father was far from happy.

I'm not sure how long we stayed in silence, but it quickly came to an abrupt end when my mother walked into the room with a not so happy look on her face. I face palmed myself, running my fingers through my hair in the process, and watched as tears began to pour out of her eyes and she slapped Trace right in the face with all the strength she could muster up. “Why are you back?! I thought you made it clear that you 'never wanted to see me again'.”

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head and walked over to me. “Don't flatter yourself; I'm here to see my sister.”

Looking up at him with a shocked expression on my face, I shook my head and looked over at my father. “I had no idea he was back until like ten minutes ago!” I had more to say, but someone quickly placed their hand over my mouth and held me onto the chair. I looked up again and saw that it was none other than Trace, trying to keep me quiet. It wasn't like my parents couldn't see what he was doing, so if he was trying to lie, this was his worst idea yet!

“She's not lying about that part; she had no idea I was coming back, but,” he kissed my forehead and gave me a sly grin, “she asked me not to leave. You don't want to make your daughter even more unhappy than you already have, do you?”

Had his hand not been over my mouth, I would have been staring up at him like a deer in head lights—but with my mouth hanging open. He was using me as his excuse to come back home? Sure, I wanted him back—maybe not as much because of our argument—but using me? His innocent little sister as bait to make my parents let him stay? That's just ridiculous!

He must have known was I was thinking because he gave all three of us a grin and shrugged. “I won't make you let me stay,” he began, “but this will be the last time you'll ever see me if you don't.”

My mother was staring up at him with a horrified look on her face. My father? He looked like he could kill the next thing that stepped in front of him and did something he didn't like. That 'thing' might just be my brother. And I knew how this was going to go; they'd stare at each other in silence, every now and then my brother would make a smart ass remark and then they'd argue for a few hours. Somewhere along the line, my mother would tell a sob story about how much she missed him and how badly it affected the family—and she would only mean about half of it. Her image was also tarnished when he left, she I guess you could say both of my parents had a reason to resent my brother. I couldn't blame them though; he was selfish at fourteen and only thought of himself. Now, he's eighteen and he's back because supposedlyhe missed me. I don't buy that crap, but whatever helps him sleep at night, I guess.