Page 3 of Dark Knight

I’m not mad. I’m… bothered, actually annoyed.

“First of all, that boy is moving into the empty wing,” I whisper before grinding my teeth. “I don’t even know him, but somehow he’s so important my father gives him the bedroom that he promised me.”

“Ugh, that’s crappy.” She sits down, shaking her head. “I know you were looking forward to moving all your stuff into that room.”

“I was. And it’s just … I don’t know. The guy showed up five minutes ago, yet it already feels likeI don’t exist anymore.” I have to laugh at myself. “Not like I did before this morning, but still, it’s less now.”

“That’s not true. Your dad was just as happy as any other dad at graduation, and he took us out to dinner and everything.” She makes a sour face. “Sorry, my dad was so weird about trying to pay.”

I wave it off because men are generally weird, and I was surprised he even wanted to go to dinner with us in the first place. I’ve always gotten the vibe he doesn’t like my dad, though he’s always been nice to me. “It’s okay, men are weird, but that’s the thing. Last night, Dad cared about me. He actually paid attention to me. This morning? It’s all about Romero. No explanation. No anything. Just like, hey, here’s this guy who will live with us now. Have a nice day by the pool.”

Bianca shrugs. “It could be worse. The guy could be gross and ugly looking.”

She’s not wrong about that. Even though he’s kind of a jerk, I already can’t wait to see him again. “He’s older than us—maybe sixteen or seventeen. I don’t know, Dad didn’t tell me, of course. So for the whole five minutes I met him he stared at the floor like he was pissed off. I doubt he’d talk to me anyway, that’s if I even wanted to talk to him.”

“Besides,” she adds with a giggle, “it’s not like your dad would let you hang out with an older guy.”

“Ugh, also true.” To think, I was in such a good mood when I first woke up. “Happy first day of summer vacation, I guess.”

“It’s all going to be okay. Don’t let this get you down.” She hops up from her chair and removes the sundress she wore over her white suit. “Come on, let’s enjoy the pool and try not to think about them. We’ll play some music and relax.”

She’s right. I know she is. I don’t have to pay any attention to Romero. He can be another one of my father’s guards or whatever it is he pays them to do to keep us safe. I’m not supposed to know about any of that.

I do know one thing, though: The first chance I get, I’m buying myself a two-piece suit. If Dad’s going to ignore me for this guy, whoever he is, I’m going to start doing what I want.

CHAPTER2

TATUM

Ten Years Later

If I didn’t know better, I would think Bianca was trying to break my ribs with how tightly she wrapped her arms around me in the courtyard in front of the house the morning after she married my father. Yes, it’s complicated, and I don’t want to discuss it. She’s my stepmother now, and I still can’t get over it.

“Please, be safe,” she whispers before giving me one last squeeze. “And keep me posted, okay? I’m going to go crazy not knowing where you are or what you’re doing.”

“I will. Who else am I going to talk to?”

We both glance at Romero, who’s having a last-minute talk with Dad. Their voices are hushed whispers. The two of them might as well be planning D-Day or something. I know it’s not easy for my father to let me go, even if he knows it’s for the best. I need space, time, and freedom.

Part of me knows I’m lucky he’s letting me go and not locking me up somewhere. I wouldn’t put it past him to do that, and it’s not like he hasn’t threatened it. We both know that a mental hospital wouldn’t help me any more than living in that big ass house did. Thus, the choice to leave arose. Only, of course, he wouldn’t be my father if he made things easy for me. There was one stipulation: I can’t go alone without a guardian always watching over me. Why would I ever want to take a breath without somebody hovering over my shoulder?

And why, of all the guards my father employs, would he not choose the one who lives to piss me off every single day of my life.

“Not him,” I mutter with a soft sigh.

Sure, he’s been a little nicer this past summer, but it’s only because he felt sorry for me once he discovered everything I had been through. Not because we’ve ever gotten along. He might as well be a robot for all the personality and feelings he shows.

“You don’t have to go.” My chest aches when she bites her lip and her eyes well up with tears. I could be bitchy and call it pregnancy hormones and pretend she doesn’t really care about me, but that wouldn’t be true. I’ve been low enough recently that I told myself that more than once. She doesn’t care. They don’t care. They have each other now, and a new baby on the way. There’s no room for my trauma and drama and bullshit. But I’d be lying if I ever tried to force myself to believe that.

“I do, and we both know it, so please don’t try and talk me out of it. There's nothing here for me anymore.” All my answer does is give her more pain, and I'm sorry for that. She doesn't deserve it. She's only ever been my friend, my best friend. Now, she's my stepmother. She's pregnant with my sibling—no, I haven't been able to wrap my head around that yet, but I’m happy for her, and my father.

Still, underneath everything, she's Bianca. I don't want to hurt her. That's why it's better for me to go because if I stay, I might end up doing just that. It wouldn't even be her fault. I'm too fucked up right now to be the person I used to be, which would only make her life harder.

“Once everything is settled, you’ll come home. Right?”

“We'll see. Maybe, maybe not.” It's the only answer I can give her because I don't want to give her false hope. I doubt there will ever be a time when we don't have to worry about Dad’s enemies hurting us. If it's not Jack Moroni kidnapping us and murdering my mother, or Jefferson Knight blaming me for his asshole son’s disappearance, it will be somebody else. Do I want to come back to that? Or should I start a new life of my own and put the past behind me?

I take a step back and let my gaze linger over the sprawling house one more time. Yesterday, it was the site of a small, intimate wedding ceremony, but that's the only recent happy memory I have here. Before that, I'd have to go back months and months to find a time when I wasn't scared. Hiding. Empty, so empty. This house has been my refuge and my prison combined. I can feel tears at the back of my eyes but blink them away. I’ve cried so much over the last couple of months, and for what? Those tears have done nothing to soothe the ache.