Page 1 of Scorpion

PROLOGUE

Every time I start to feel happy, I get a call from my mother.

I haven’t heard from her yet, but I know it’s coming. My freedom never feels truly free because she’s embedded herself in my brain like a tumor.

Mathijs’s voice crackles through the headset as he belts out the song from our favorite band while drumming the cyclic control. In all his enthusiasm, he still keeps steady on the foot pedals, but it still feels like we might fall out of the sky at any second.

Death by helicopter isn’t exactly on my wishlist.

Clutching my phone, I glance at the cockpit to double check nothing has gone out of whack since he started his performance. His dad would have an absolute field day if he knew Mathijs acted like this every time we flew—I suppose that’s why his dad taught me how to fly as well.

Below, the mansions that seem so gigantic in person are nothing more than lumps on the Earth, small and insignificant. Up ahead is the house and the empty space of asphalt out front that Mathijs thought would make a good helipad.

I almost had a damn heart attack when he flew in this morning to visit their family’s vineyard in Paonia. Most boyfriends pick up their girls in a car or a motorcycle. Hell, I remember the days when he’d wait for me to sneak out while my parents weren’t home, then I’d sit on the handlebars of his bike and roll my eyes every time he rang that annoying bell.

No, Mathijs Halenbeek is above all that now. He picks up his girlfriend in a $250K helicopter.

His hand lands on my lap, and I slap it away. “Focus,” I snap.

Chuckling, he palms my thigh despite my protests. “Stop worrying.” He pairs his words with a self-assured smile. “Your parents aren’t meant to be back from Mumbai for another three days. Besides, it’s the weekend, and all the staff who are likely to snitch aren’t working. Your mom will never find out.”

“I know that. But what I don’t know is how far her crazy is willing to go. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s installed hidden cameras around the house. For all I know, there could be a freaking recording device in my room to hear if Gaya and I are talking shit about her.” My sister and I have gotten so paranoid about it that the only time we dare talk about our family is at school—even then we aren’t confident that Mom hasn’t planted some kind of bug on us.

Plus, it’s becoming increasingly clear that our brother is a goddamn snitch. Gaya has youngest daughter syndrome and is clearly Papa’s favorite, while Mom has undiagnosed BPD and embodies Boy Mom. That leaves me cursed with the dreaded middle child disorder.

“If she finds out that I’m with you, she’s going to kill me—that’s not an understatement.” I run my hand down my face and grimace at the smell of horse manure, grapevines, and gunpowder—Mom would have a heart attack if she knew I spent all day shooting pegs and riding around on horseback with a boy. “Remember when she hid a metal spoon in the dish and then blamed me when the microwave exploded because I ‘should have looked’ first. As in, she expected me to check if there was a utensil hidden in the curry.” I throw my hands up, exasperated. “That woman is trying to kill me, Mathijs.”

My home looms closer, and so does the impending contact with the woman who spawned me.

“Your mother will not kill you.” He rubs my thigh, turning the control slightly. “She might lock you in a cell, but she won’t kill you.”

I hit his chest. “Not helping.” I check the time and shake my head. “It’s almost five o’clock now, so Mom’s soul will be crawling out of hell and back into her body right about now. I haven’t heard from her in twenty-six hours. Twenty-six.” I hold up my cell. It’s probably her new record. “I’m tempted to get my phone checked to see if it’s broken. That’s the only plausible explanation.”

“Maybe, just maybe, she might be easing off your back.”

I look his way for a moment before barking out a laugh. “That woman has been on my ass since the moment I came out of the womb and everyone realized that the scans lied, and I am very much female.”

A woman means something completely different in Western society. It doesn’t matter that I was born on American soil; as far as Mom is concerned, we’re still in India, and my life dreams are a personal offense to her.

The headphones crackle as Mathijs provides a string of information to traffic control as we close in on my house.

“You know…” Mathijs’s full lips tip up into a grin as he gradually lowers us to the ground. “I could always propose. They can’t get rid of me then, Zal.”

“You’re still the wrong-colored skin for my parents’ tastes.”

He knows it too.

Platinum blond hair, green eyes, and pale skin? On no planet would my parents think that’s a suitable match for their daughter. The fact that his family could afford to surprise their son with a quarter million dollar present for his sixteenth birthday doesn’t mean much to them either.

If they knew the true extent of what his family is into… I wouldn’t put it past them to send Gaya and me to India.

“You know I don’t want any of that until I finish college. It’ll be the biggest fuck you to her if I get a degree and a man.”

Mom’s options for us are either doctor, lawyer, engineer, or housewife. Her preference would be the latter. My brother, Gadin, however, can be whatever he wants. He could say that he wants to be a princess, and Mom would break her back sewing him the perfect gown.

Mathijs’s hand moves from my lap, and I instantly miss the touch. Guilt gnaws at my insides as I glance at him, wondering if I’ll be able to see the frustration bubbling inside. He hates that we have to keep our relationship a secret just so my parents don’t find out and ship me off to a boarding school.

“You could just say ‘fuck you’ and move out now,” he says as if it’s the simplest solution. As supportive and understanding as he is about my family issues, he’ll never really get it because he loves his parents, and they love him back. “You know my mom would cry happy tears if you stayed with us before we head to college.”

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