Page 42 of Chasing Danger

“They fucking knew. My Mom and my Grandma. They must have known about my father, and they never told me.”

My hands were shaking so bad I couldn’t hold onto him anymore. I stood up and started pacing. In the back of my mind, I noticed D’Angelo signal Eva and Gavriil to leave, but I didn’t stop to think about it.

“The fire. He set the fire intentionally. Did he know we were in there? Did Mom and Nana know? They said it was an accident.”

Memories flashed in my mind.

The despair I’d felt when I first woke up in the hospital to find half my face covered in bandages. The nurses, my Mother, and my Grandmother all comforted me, telling me it was just an accident. That these things happen, and we need to rise above them. Every time I got upset about it after, they always responded the same way.

“It was just an accident. There’s no reason to get so upset. These things just happen.”

But it wasn’t an accident, and they knew. Maybe they didn’t know that Rowan and I were still in the house when the fire was started, but they must have realized afterward that my father had set it intentionally.

Yet they kept repeating those useless platitudes that did nothing except make me feel guilty for getting upset.

“Oliver.”

D’Angelo’s sharp voice broke me out of my memories. He yanked my hands away from my body, holding tight to mywrists, and I realized I’d been scratching at my left arm. It was the one with the burn scars on it. I used to scratch at the scars when I was younger, but I’d eventually been scolded out of the habit. Now, it seemed old habits were coming back.

“They stole my face.” Tears were dripping down my cheeks, hot against my flushed skin. “They burned it right off me, and they did it intentionally. They didn’t even have the decency to tell me.”

“Hey, nothing was stolen.” D’Angelo let go of my wrists to try and soothe me, wiping the tears off both my cheeks. “Your face is right here, and it’s beautiful because it’s you. I’m sure your father didn’t know you were in the house when he set the fire, and the rest of your family didn’t tell you because they didn’t want you to worry.”

What he said made sense, but I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to hear anything.

It was just like the nights when I didn’t want to work at the club, but I had to get out on stage anyway. Or the mornings when I was exhausted from working late, but I still had to get up for an early shift.

Shut my brain off. Focus on something else. Let my body go on autopilot.

There was no decision. One moment, I was standing there staring up at D’Angelo as he dried the tears from my cheeks, and the next I’d grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him down into a kiss.

It felt great. The press of lips against my own chased away all other thoughts, like leaves caught in a cool autumn wind.Soothing, yet also warm and stimulating. I could have stayed there for the rest of my life.

Yet, only a moment later, D’Angelo was pulling me away.

“Oliver, this isn’t...”

“Yes, it is,” I cut him off before he could finish, not wanting to hear him speaking logic right now. “It’s fine. I want to. I just... I need to think about something else. Feel something else. Something other than numb, or angry. Please.” I tried to reach for him again. “I need this.”

“You don’t...” He trailed off, looking around himself as if just now realizing we were in the front room of the penthouse. Eva and Gavriil had disappeared somewhere, but the open area still lacked privacy.

Grabbing my wrist he pulled me into the master bedroom, then closed and locked the door.

Perfect. That was just where I wanted to be.

I twisted my fists in his shirt again and tried to pull him back to me, but he pushed me away before our lips even touched.

“Wait, Oliver. Stop. I just wanted to get us some privacy. You’re upset. This... isn’t a good idea.”

Growling low under my breath, I lashed out and shoved at his chest. He must have been shocked because I actually managed to make him stumble backward.

“I’m so sick of being good. I’ve beengoodall my life. Don’t be upset. Get a job as soon as you can. Get two jobs. Work under the table. Work nights. Help the family. Take care of your brother. Handle the bills. Don’t complain. I’m so fucking sick of it!”

The strength suddenly left my legs and I collapsed onto the foot of the bed. “I’m so tired, but I didn’t mind. I thought my family was just unlucky. We were all victims of fate, and we were all making sacrifices. How could I complain when my brother’s health was worse than my scars, and my mother was just as tired as I was?”

My tears returned, and this time I started hiccupping. “It’s not fair. I’ve been trying so hard to begood, and all this time they were lying to me. What’s the point of beinggood? What does it get me? I haven’t even told my family about half the things I do to make money because I thought they’d be ashamed. All so I could staygoodin their eyes. But it’s all pointless.”

I’d started scratching at my scars again, this time focusing on the scar covering my face. My nails dug into the uneven skin until a sharp prick told me I was about to draw blood.

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