Page 43 of Wanted
“You’re especially familiar with his sex life,” I commented, furrowing my forehead.
Jordan rolled his eyes. “Not like that, kid. He’s a special case. That’s all I’m saying.”
I poured the pasta into the now boiling water. Jordan went on, “Don’t distract me. So, what do you know about Kamila’s sudden career in acting?”
“I have no idea. I swear,” I told him.
“Whatever it is, I’ll find out. I don’t like what’s going on.”
“You always find something that doesn’t please you,” I argued.
“You’re right,” Jordan agreed. “But I’m always right about that, too.”
He stood by the kitchen island, watching me cook. Jordan kept quiet today, but I usually heard him comment on Kamila’s cooking. He had firm opinions everywhere. Nobody complained because whatever Jordan told us to do, it usually worked out.
Today, even the simplest things were a challenge. There was this hot pressure at the back of my head, taking away my stability.
Whatever was wrong with my body, my father had always claimed so. Manuel had made sure that I knew that was what he thought of me. I couldn’t bear any children for him, he’d said. When in reality, he’d been the one with the problem. Perhaps I also contributed to the issue?
Half an hour later, the food was finished. It was my turn to set the table. They were all sitting there, patiently waiting. Dinner was the most exciting event of the day. Kamila kept us entertained with her dramatic stories about her life while keeping it clean for Fylox. Jordan was obviously uncomfortable with her overt sexuality. Fylox… I couldn’t really understand him. He seemed far off.
My hands shook as I served the pasta, but it was fine because they couldn’t see. My back was turned to them as I prepared the plates. One after the other, I brought the filled plates to the table. When I carried mine, I almost lost hold of it. Tears threatened to escape my eyes, but I didn’t let them.
As always, Jordan said a little something before we started eating. It wasn’t a prayer. He wasn’t a religious man. He simply expressed his gratitude for one more day of life. When we sat there in silence, listening to him, I was convinced that he could help us out.
Once that moment was over, and Kamila went on about her family, I remembered that our existence was hanging on by a thin thread. Once it was decided to cut it, we would be back in the past.
“… back then, grandma and my mom were the only ones that bothered with us kids. My brothers and I loved them both so much. It was the little things. I was homeschooled for my safety and because my mom didn’t want my mind poisoned by the other Katantian kids. But I partied in secret. I’d always been tall. There was a time when I was taller than Aris and Weston if you can imagine that. Katantians have all sorts of kinks, but tall girls were an oddity.”
Kamila always finished her dinner first, and then she started talking while everyone else still ate. She went on, “I remember when we went shopping, my mother had the streets emptied for us. She didn’t want me to come in contact with Katantians. However, after she died, I found comfort in our citizens. I wasn’t in the right state of mind. Aris was doing his own thing, having cut me off. He didn’t even visit grandma anymore. Weston was in his own little depressive phase. He barely left his room. So I left the palace, and I wandered in the streets. The people knew me, and they didn’t mistreat me. They didn’t even touch my hand without asking for permission. They mourned her with me. I can’t remember how many people I cried with back then. It was a lot, and it happened frequently. Aram kept calling me to his office, demanding that I stop making a fool of myself in public. I didn’t listen.”
Kamila sighed, continuing. “It’s my fault. I was an impressionable teenager. I could’ve done better. When things get tough, I remind myself that I need to make my mom proud. It doesn’t always work, but I try to think like that. Her heart would break if she knew about my overdoses…”
“She probably does,” Jordan commented, and Kamila twitched. “She also knows that you’re a fighter.”
I swallowed a bite of food, and I suddenly felt an urge to gag. Grabbing my glass of water, I gulped it down. Jordan noticed my struggle, but he didn’t comment on it. I didn’t want anyone to panic, but the pain in my abdomen was back. Only a couple of days until I’d be free of this pain. I had to stay strong.
I fought hard to breathe normally, my chest heaving.
“Is everything okay?” Kamila turned towards me, taking hold of my hand.
I shook my head. “I’m scared, Kamila.”
ACT TWO
WESTON
KATANTIA, FOUR MONTHS AGO
I hadn’t heard from Mandy in a week.
Kamila was gone. She was plagued by rumors made up by cheap journalists. I couldn’t read any of it anymore. I didn’t want to watch the news.
There was a bitter afterthought to it all. I was left out of their plans. I had been the groom at the palace, stood up. That was one of the images that roamed the internet and the news outlets. That was what Katantians remembered now, their prince being stood up at the palace.
“Weston?” Valentina gently knocked at my bedroom door. That was a rarity. She usually burst in without a second thought. “Are you coming downstairs? Breakfast is ready. Maybe we should have that talk we keep delaying.”
The truth was that I had nothing to say to Valentina or my older brother.
