Filed To Story: Craving The Wrong Brother Book PDF Free by Elysian Sparrow
I hang up, swallowing the lump in my throat.
Downstairs, Grandma is sitting cross-legged on the couch with a glass of wine, watching a fashion show. My dad’s found a shirt-thank God and is perched on the edge of a separate couch, restless.
I make my way into the kitchen and grab a juice from the fridge. The coolness of it is the only thing anchoring me to this moment.
When I lean against the counter to drink, Dad stands and walks over. His eyes search mine like he’s trying to guess what happened upstairs.
“I looked outside,” he says after a beat. “Four dangerous-looking men are standing beside a car I assume you came in. You go around with bodyguards now?”
I blink at him, startled for a moment. I’d forgotten about that part, why I actually came here. Leave it to him to remind me.
“At the moment,” I reply and take another sip.
“Why? Are people shooting at you? Is it already happening? You spend most of your life single, and then when you date, you choose the wrong man?”
His hands go to his hips.
“I want this to stop. What do you think I’ll feel if something happens to you? What would your mother feel? Or your sister? Or your grandmother?”
I slam the cup down, chest heaving.
“Just-stop, please. Stop. I want you all to fucking stop. Do you think I’m a child? Can I not make decisions for myself?”
I watch the little twitch in Dad’s temple, the narrowing of his eyes. When he speaks, it’s low.
“I raised you better than this, Sloane.”
“You raised me to be awkward around men. Left to you, I wouldn’t date anyone for the rest of my life.”
“I’d honestly prefer seeing you alone than with that man.”
“It’s a good thing it’s not your decision, isn’t it?” My voice is steady, but there’s a tremor beneath it. “I want you to worry about important things. Like your son, Beau, growing up without a father because you and Daphne just won’t work shit out. You want to chase her off with your paranoia? Then great. Do that. But leave Knox out of it. Don’t go seeking him out. Don’t threaten him.”
I take a step closer, eyes locked with his.
“When you do that, you’re threatening me too. Because I’m going to be with that man for a long, long time. If he goes to jail, I’ll visit him every week and wait for him to get out. If you want my misery to be on your conscience, then keep doing what you’re doing, Dad. Because I won’t leave him. He won’t leave me. I love him.”
My throat tightens as I go in.
“As a matter of fact, I’m convinced he’s the only one who’s ever loved every part of me. Who doesn’t need to fix me. So you better back all the hell up and leave us alone. I mean it.”
2.1A
The look on Dad’s face is almost indescribable. Shock, definitely. But there’s something more. If my father were an emotional man, he’d be screaming Or crying. Or both.
He just stands there instead.
“Wow,” he says finally. “Are you on something? Crack? Are you using,
I roll my eyes and take a shaky breath. “I’m done talking about this.”
“Mom,” he says, voice rising as he turns toward Grandma June, who’s still perched television. “Are you not going to chip in here?” the couch, legs crossed, wine glass in hand, eyes fixed on the
“And say what, Daniel?” she replies without looking away from the screen. “You’ve not seen her with that boyfriend of hers. She’s happy. He buys her designers, a lot of them. Let the kid make her own damn choice.”
“And become you, right?”
That makes her turn around. “Oh, you better watch that mouth of yours.”
“You do realize that however you turned out has everything to do with you choosing the wrong man in the first place, right? He made you so vindictive that you made it your lifelong mission to steal from men.”
She sets the wineglass down and straightens, gaze sharp as steel. “And look what my thieving life got you, Daniel. Ivy League school. A fancy house. Fancy-ass job. You think Daphne-a beautiful lifestyle blogger with over a million followers on Instagram-would have married your sorry ass if you didn’t have a trust fund?”
She pauses, waiting, daring him to speak.
“Would you like to return the trust fund because I stole the money, huh?”
He doesn’t say a word.
“I didn’t think so. Instead of worrying about things that don’t concern you, call your wife, who left the house mad at you. You haven’t seen your son in over a week. Serena’s distance from you didn’t teach you a lesson, did it? Jesus. I don’t think I have any more advice left inside me, Daniel. Daphne insists that the man is an old schoolmate of hers. What you think you saw didn’t happen. Let it go. And let that poor child with her short hair be. You raised her to be a wallflower. I’m surprised she made a good catch with all that nerdiness she has going on.”
She lifts her glass again.
“At this rate, I’ll need something stronger than wine. You’re all welcome to join me.”
Then she turns back to the TV like she didn’t just roast both of us to hell and back.
I glance at my father, who’s still frozen in place. For once, he has no comeback.
“I’ll try reaching Serena again to come pick Mom up,” I say quietly, walking toward the window. My fingers are already dialing.
“Why don’t you take her instead?” Dad asks behind me.
“Can’t, Dad.”
“Why? Have somewhere to be?”
I hesitate, watching the signal bars on my phone. “I can’t explain
I press the call icon and lift the phone to my ear. Serena’s line goes straight to voicemail. I ca again. Same thing.
Where the hell did she keep her phone? And why’s it off? It’s never off
The screen is still in my hand when I notice a car pulling into the driveway, Pink, Familiar. I take a step closer to the window, peering out just in see one long leg step out of the car, followed by the rest of her.
Uhhh, Dad?” I say, slowly turning toward him. “Didn’t you say your wife wouldn’t be back until next week?”
“Yes. Why?”
“She’s here.”
Daphne pops the trunk. She grabs her bag, and then she’s unstrapping Beau from his car seat, his tiny hands reaching for her neck the moment she leans in.
My father bolts to the window like he’s been shot out of a cannon.
“Shit,” he mutters. “She was supposed to stay one more day, as we agreed at the therapist’s office. Enough time for me to process things.
“I don’t know how you’re going to do it, Dad,” I say, stepping away from the glass. “But she can’t see Mom.”
“What do you expect me to do? Hide your mother in the basement?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe if I explain-“
“Trust me,” I cut in. “As a woman, she won’t understand why she’s being accused of infidelity and has to go away, and then while she’s gone, you bring your ex to the house. There’s no way that won’t lead to a shitshow.”
~SERENA~~
…
My wrists burn from the rope.
Whoever tied the knots did it like they’ve done it a hundred times before. Same goes for the sack over my head. Coarse fabric. It smells like someone once stored onions in it. I can’t see a thing. Can’t move my arms. I can barely move my neck.
Back at the apartment, it didn’t take me long to realize the guy at the door wasn’t alone. A second man stepped out from the shadows-both of them armed, both terrifyingly calm. No shouting. No dramatics. Just a series of clipped commands and the cold press of a silencer against my spine. They marched us out like they’d done it a dozen times before. As we passed the lobby, I caught a glimpse of the night security guard slumped over his desk- head down, motionless. I told myself he was sleeping. Had to be. Now we’re in a car, hood over my head, wrists bound tight, going God knows where.
The road underneath hums and grinds. There’s the occasional bump, which sends my body lurching sideways and my shoulder thudding against Finn’s. I think it’s Finn. Hard to tell. He groans every time we hit something. At first it was quiet. Barely a grunt. But now it’s starting to sound like full-on whimpers.
Another bump. Another groan.
I’ve had enough.
“Could you just shut it?” I hiss through the hood. “And stop pretending like you’re not working with these men.”
The car keeps rumbling on. And then Finn’s voice-muffled, tired, slightly indignant-comes.