Page 42 of The Prey
It's her turn to narrow her eyes. “You're not my babysitter, Sebastian,” she mocks, using the same tone I used on her.
“Fine. I get that you’re worried about me, but you have nothing to worry about. I didn’t come to dinner so that I could argue with you. I just wanted to share a meal and spend some time together. Can we do that?”
She blinks at me slowly as if asking, can we? “Sure. We can do whatever you want.”
Her tone still holds a smidge of attitude, but I decide to ignore it and move on.
“Okay, so you said you wanted to talk about something?”
She ducks her chin to her chest like she’s insecure, and I watch her carefully. “Yes. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I want to see if I can find my dad. My real dad, that is. Find out who he is…and if he wants to meet me.”
My knee-jerk response is to tell her no because if he wanted to see her, he would’ve tried to find her already, but then I remember who I’m talking to. Bel. My sister. The light to my darkness. I can’t berate her for wanting to know more about her father. And Bel’s so stubborn that if I tell her no, she’ll do it anyway, and in a way that leaves me out of it. The thought of anything happening to her makes me feral.
“What if he's not a good person? What if you regret meeting him?”
I think back to my own father, the fucking asshole who beat my best friend for most of his life. Who made our lives miserable. Yeah, not a great guy. I was shocked for all of five minutes when I found out the truth, but it didn’t stop me from ending his pathetic life. He deserved what he got.
She shrugs and adjusts her glasses. “But what if he's a good guy who has been searching for me?”
I sigh and sip my drink, letting the alcohol burn through some of my anger. We have to change the subject. I’m unstable as it is, and now I have to try to wrap my head around Bel wanting to meet her father. Our mother claimed he was a good man, but he could very well be a terrible person by now. Yeah, doesn’t sound like a good idea.
“Let me think about it and see if I have any information that might help. Before we do anything, we need to find out the type of person he is.”
She nods and then leans in a little closer, a smile tugging at her lips. “Sooooo...how is Elyse? How did it go in London? Did she love it there?”
A sharp pang of guilt knifes me in the gut. “It was a very short trip, for business only. She didn't get to see much.” She actually hadn’t gotten to see anything, a fact that makes me wince a bit when I allow myself to think about it. I had been knocked so off-balance by Ely’s mouth on my cock and the grimness of the situation surrounding Yanov and Sidorov that I wasted no time getting us back on the plane and home.
“Then why did you take her?”
“I needed help, remember?” It’s not a lie, but it’s also not the whole truth.
If Bel found out the real intent or discovered how Elyse truly came to be a part of things, she’d lose it. I don’t like withholding information from her, but she has no idea about the decisions that must be made on behalf of our family, nor would I ever share that information with her. I decided as soon as I found out she was my sister that I wouldn’t let the darkness of our namesake taint her. I haven’t done so since that day.
Her green eyes narrow with suspicion. “I remember, but I also think you could have taken Lee, or Aries, or any other one of your ridiculous friends. They can fend off the cougars just as well.”
I scoff. “My ridiculous friends are your ridiculous friends, remember?”
“Don't remind me. Things have been crazy busy, and I haven't seen her lately. Is she doing okay?”
It's my turn to shrug. “I guess. No one told me she’s dead.”
“Seriously?” Some of the light leaves her eyes. “I can’t… What is wrong with you?”
“Okay, maybe that was harsh.” I swallow thickly. “To be honest, it's not like I sit around waiting to see what she's doing. We don’t talk regularly. She cleans and goes to class. Why would I know about how she’s doing?”
“Oh well… I guess I just thought…” There's a certain reluctance to her voice.
“What,” I snap, losing my patience. “You thought what?”
She frowns, shaking her head, and I hate to see her withdraw from me right before my eyes.
I grimace. This is Elyse’s fault. I haven’t been the same since that trip to London. She’s under my skin, in my lungs, and in my head. I take a calming breath and gentle my tone.
“What did you think, Bel?”
She stares down at her coffee, not even looking up at me when she speaks. “It’s nothing. She’s just different—super sweet and kind. The two of you seemed to be spending a little time together. I thought that meant you liked her, and that maybe you'd stop sleeping around with all The Mill bunnies.”
Trying my best to stifle the frustration I’m feeling on the subject, I pinch the bridge of my nose and breathe through the anger. I remind myself that Bel doesn’t know anything about Elyse and me. She doesn’t know a lick of how I came to be the head of the family.