Page 22 of Dirty Heirs

I borrowed my grandfather’s Rolls-Royce Phantom and drove to the marina with the top down. Alex sat in the passenger seat, her curls blowing in her face. My sister looked so peaceful. It had been too long since she was happy. As much as I hated this town, I loved the freedom it provided.

But we would never be free.

“How cool is this, Aid?” Alex turned in her seat to face me, smiling so wide it reached her blue eyes. “Did you ever think we could have a life like this?” She squealed. “We’re having lunch on a yacht! A fucking yacht, Aid! I feel like a queen.”

One day, she would be the Queen of The Devil’s Knights. She didn’t know about that part of the deal our grandfather made. He assured me Alex would be protected before she married a Salvatore.

“Don’t get used to this,” I told my sister. “If we can find a way out of this shit, we’re leaving. No turning back.”

She groaned. “Aiden, why do you have to kill the fun? We don’t have to run just because this seems too good to be true.”

Gripping the leather steering wheel, I snapped my head at her. “This is too good to be true, Lexie. We don’t belong here. And we never will.”

“I like it so far,” Alex admitted, digging her teeth into her bottom lip. “And we don’t have to worry about going hungry. There’s always food, and Pops takes care of us. No one is coming to shut off the electricity or the water. No one locks me in closets or beats me.”

I recalled the days when Alex’s stomach would rumble all night. The hunger pains were the worst. I hated seeing my sister malnourished and starving, so I stole from bakeries. I pocketed food at 7-Eleven and took whatever I could from the market.

Anything for her.

“I’ll take care of you,” I promised, grabbing her hand. “I won’t let you suffer again.”

A smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “I know. And I love you for it. What would I do without you?”

We would have lost our minds if we didn’t have each other. While Alex struggled with PTSD flashbacks and horrible nightmares from the past, I had to stay sane. Alert. I couldn’t let myself fall apart because she needed me. It was my job to protect my sister.

“You won’t have to find out.” I squeezed her hand. “I’m never leaving you.”

I parked the black Phantom beside Sonny’s Porsche 911 Carrera GTS. It was metallic blue and screamed Sonny Cormac’s spoiled ass drives this car. A red thong dangled from the rearview mirror.

So, he was bi.

Not gay.

Sonny gave off a lot of vibes, all of them confusing and infuriating. He was on the football team, but that meant nothing. Plenty of gay men played sports and hid in the closet, pretending to be straight. But Sonny didn’t bother to hide it.

“Aiden has a date,” Alex sang as she slid out of the car.

“I do not. If anyone has a date, it’s you. Marcello is here. I know you like him.”

She blushed ten shades of pink that crept down her cheeks and spread to her chest. “Stop it, Aid. Don’t embarrass me.” Alex peeked up at me. “Please.”

I slung my arm across her neck and pulled her closer as we approached the dock. “I wouldn’t dream of it, sis.”

Alex flipped up a pair of black sunglasses and gazed at the magnificent water view stretching for miles. “It’s beautiful down here.”

As we approached the first boat slip, Sonny appeared on the deck with Marcello at his side. They were dressed in polo shirts and dress pants, while I wore ripped jeans and a band T-shirt.

When I was not at school, I didn’t look like one of these ritzy motherfuckers. I was an artist and refused to waste money on clothes when paint ruined them.

Sonny studied the dark ink on my forearms before reaching my face. I didn’t have the money for good ink. So, I befriended a tattoo artist back in Haven. He hooked me up in exchange for some of my drawings.

Of course, my mom had a stroke. She couldn’t bear her son’s body being tainted by so much filth. God, I hated her and didn’t miss her miserable ass.

Sonny extended his hand to help Alex aboard, licking his lips. “Look at you, Little Wellington. Goddamn. Is Heaven missing an angel?”

Alex laughed, wrapping her arms around herself. “Um, thanks… I guess.”

Despite my protests, my sister wore a white camisole and cut-off black shorts. I warned her it was too cold outside, especially with the breeze blowing off the bay.

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