Page 80 of Wicked Little Secret

POWER TRIP - J. COLE FEATURING MIGUEL

“You look like steaming dog shit,”Theo says when I open the door.

“Just once it’d be nice if you said good morning like a normal sister.”

“Ew, why would I ever do that?” She pushes past me like she did when we were kids, clutching two large coffees from the local Java King, as requested.

Atticus is excited to see her. He circles her every step of the way, tail wagging as he nips at her ankles.

I follow them into the kitchen. “I think my dog likes you more than me.”

“Why wouldn’t he? Dogs sense demonic energy.”

“I’mthe demonic one? Really?” I raise a brow at her as she kneels to scratch the fluffy golden dog all over his neck and chest and his tail flops about in a fast blur. I pass them by to collect the coffee cup that’s mine—the one marked peppermint mocha.

Theo laughs. “I’d say in Dad’s eyes, we’re both pretty demonic. I’m a lesbian and you’re… you.”

“Why does that feel like more of an insult than steaming dog shit?”

“You know what I mean.” She pauses long enough to scratch extra attentively behind Atticus’s droopy ears. “You’ve never gone along with the program. Though neither have I. It frustrates Dad.”

“And I would care because?” I ask in between sips of warm peppermint and sweet mocha.

“Well, you are his only son. His legacy is yours to carry on.”

“His legacy of what? His wife moved two thousand miles away from him.”

“Mom’s on a sabbatical.”

“What a charmingly PC way to say they’ve separated, sister,” I taunt darkly. My lips spread into a grin against my coffee cup as she casts me a scolding look. “You and I both know the truth about their marriage. Or lack thereof.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s up with the bags? If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess you’d been up all night.”

…that’s because I have.

Enjoying every inch of Nyssa Oliver.

“Am I not allowed to stay up late?” I ask instead.

“You’ve never been a night owl. Even when we were teenagers. Remember prom? You fell asleep outside in the rose garden.”

I grit my teeth. “It’s not my fault the night went on too long. So much glitter and pop music. I was bored.”

“Most kids were off fucking. Anyway, point is, you’re not a night person. You’ve been different lately.” She’s finally tired of lavishing Atticus with adoration and rises to her feet to join me at the kitchen counter. Her tone shifts from humorous to serious that abruptly. “This isn’t about the V Killer, is it?”

Tension cords through me, gripping me tight like a lasso. Eyes narrowed and jaw clenched, I hiss at her. “Really, Theo?”

“Kane Driscoll’s murder is still unsolved. So is Holly Driscoll. And there’s that attack on the college student from Halloween night. The evening news is saying it could be Valentine. I know how personal this is for you. What happened with Josalyn and all?—”

“One moment you’re heckling me about Veronica. Now it’s Josalyn?”

“You feel things intensely, Theron. If you need someone to talk to?—”

“I have plans,” I interrupt sharply. “Papers to grade. Lessons to plan. Thanks for the coffee.”

The dismissal is cold, perhaps cruel, but necessary in the moment.

I turn my back on her and walk toward my home office, snapping my fingers for Atticus to be obedient and follow.

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