Page 11 of The Darkest Note

‘Go! I’ll hold them off.’

The pressure on top of my chest increases.

“Sol is coming back to Redwood,” I growl.

“Dad’s not going to lift a finger. Not after we spit in his face by going on tour with Bex,” Zane points out.

‘We’re not gonna leave you, Sol.’

‘Go!’

My eyes burst open. “Sol is coming back to Redwood,” I say again. As if they didn’t understand me the first time. “I’ll handle it.”

My brothers exchange looks but I pretend not to notice.

Jinx told us ‘New Girl’ had taken Sol’s spot and Principal Harris confirmed it.

I don’t know who New Girl is, but she’s keeping my best friend from his rightful place. She’s in my way. And I’ll do what I always do with the things that keep me from getting what I want.

I’ll destroy them.

And there won’t be a brick standing when I’m done.

* * *

Dutch: I sent the money to your account. Who’s the New Girl?

Jinx: Cadence Cooper. Shy. Reserved. She’s been invisible to everyone since the start of senior year. But be careful with this one. She might seem fragile on the outside, but this wallflower bites.

CHAPTERTHREE

CADENCE

The lights flicker before they go out completely, sending me into a darkness so thick it’s almost pulsing. Suds fall into my eye, mid-shampoo. I bite down on my bottom lip to hold back my shriek of frustration.

Rick said he would pay the electricity this month. So much for our good, ole’ brother keeping his word.

This scenario feels familiar.

Raising our hopes only to let us down? He may not have grown up with mom, but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

The suds are a sticky sensation crawling down the side of my face. I flick the moisture away. Anger surges in me, but it’s not aimed at Rick. It’s a poison-tipped arrow that I can only stab in my own chest.

I’m the idiot for taking him at his word.

Over the past few months, our surprise brother proved that he can fill in mom’s shoes perfectly.

Okay, that’s unfair.

At leastRickdoesn’t steal our grocery money so he can have a midnight rendezvous with the local crack dealer.

Small mercies are still mercies.

I flail my arms in search of the faucet. The moment it turns on, I get hit with a spray straight from the North Pole.

The hot water cut out ages ago. If we want a warm bath, we have to warm water in a kettle first and pour it in the tub. Since it takes so many extra steps, Viola and I both cut out baths and do showers only.

I shudder under the cold rain and angrily scratch at the soap and suds. My dearest wish is for my baby sister to have a warm bath in a nice, non-rusted tub. Why does it feel like such a fantasy?

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