Page 9 of The Price of Forever

“Why do you even care?” I forced the words past dry lips. “Kaylee’s gone. You’re a Fairchild now. You’ve spent the last ten years fine without me. You can keep doing the same, you know.”

“Jordan. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m being realistic.”

“I care because you’re my little sister.” The hardness in his voice made me grit my teeth. “We’ve been trying to figure out what happened to you for the past ten years. You think now that we found you, we’re just going to walk away? You’re out of your mind.”

“Well you might have to keep on walking,” I told him, drifting toward the front window of my living room. I sniffed hard, peeking past the burgundy curtain to the afternoon activity. Cyclists and cars clogged the street, and pedestrians milled along the sidewalk. A normal Chinatown Sunday. I looked for my trusty buddy, Ranger—a black tabby cat that I’d found mangy and starving a year ago and nursed back to health. He visited me regularly since I’d saved him, and I liked to think that we’d become family in a way. I made sure to leave food and water out for him on the fire escape. “I’m not sure I want to reconnect like you and Axel do.”

Another wallop of silence. This time, I could practically feel how my words had served as a punch to his face. I was glad for the separation of the phone call. When Kaylee and I had found out that Axel and Damian had dropped the Haynes name and become Fairchild, it had felt like a slap in the face. One that I’d never gotten to talk to them about, because they simply…left us behind. Moved to New York after graduating from high school and never spoke to me again.

Until last week.

“Can you at least accept the security assessment?” Damian finally asked. “There isn’t much left to it. All we want is for you to be as safe as possible. That’s it. You won’t have to worry about anything, and we can rest a little easier too.”

“I don’t know.”

“I promise you, this man assessing the risks in your life will only be a benefit to you. Even if you decide not to continue with him.”

“There’s no way in fuck I could afford something like that,” I snapped.

“You’d never have to pay for anything,” Damian said with a smug duh tone. “That’s what your brothers are for. Trust me.”

I didn’t trust him. But I did see the opportunity to get free stuff. And I loved free stuff.

“I’ll think about it,” I told him. “But no guarantees.”

Damian agreed, and we hung up. I sat in the throbbing quiet of my apartment, staring out the window for what felt like an hour. When I spotted Ranger prowling the fire escape stairs, I pushed my living room window open, calling for him.

“Here, sweetie.” I held out the tray of food I always had ready at the window. He leapt my way, slinking inside the apartment. I pulled the window closed and sat back on my heels, starting a quick inspection of his fur as he munched.

“You look pretty clean and happy,” I murmured, stroking his fur once I determined he wasn’t injured or infested. “Have you been having fun since I last saw you?”

He wiggled his butt as he settled in to eat, purring loudly. I took that as a yes.

“Well, what do you think about this? Some real-life human brothers of mine showed up, wanting to reconnect. They want to send a bodyguard to look after me. But we all know your opinion is the only one that matters. What should I do?”

Crunch crunch crunch. Ranger didn’t even look at me as he scarfed the food.

I heaved a sigh, watching my adopted feline family member eat while my thoughts began spinning once more. Then I reached for my phone and texted Damian.

JORDAN: I’ll take his number. But that’s it.

Seven’s phone number was in my contacts list a moment later. My heart raced as I initiated a new text message. Why the hell was his name Seven? There was no way his mother named him that. Unless he was raised in some cult-like enclave. Maybe he had no legal last name. I hated how curious I was about him.

I stared at my empty New Message screen, debating my words. By that point, my stomach was growling. It was after one p.m. and I still hadn’t eaten. I headed into the kitchen to make avocado toast and some coffee. As the bread quickly turned golden in my toaster, I sent the message.

JORDAN: Do you know who this is?

I stared at the phone so intently I accidentally burned my toast. The toaster had been a free find on the side of the road and tended to burn things unless you paid strict attention, but otherwise it worked fine. Once a thick layer of mashed avocado and chipotle sauce had been drizzled on top of the crisp bread, I took a triumphant bite.

Still no response.

I got to work making drip coffee—nothing fancy at home for me—twisting to look at my phone every few seconds.

Nothing.

Once my toast was gone and the coffee brewed and I was ready to never entertain the notion of a security assessment ever again, Seven wrote back.

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