Page 4 of Fractured Constellations
“Righto, I’ll get Percy to bring your things in here and I’ll chase up when your room might be ready.”
“Thanks, Jerry,” I reply, finally sitting up and looking at the man. “For everything, thank you.”
His cheeks flush a little. “It’s my pleasure. I’ll let you get settled in and maybe instruct the chef to prepare something? Any favorites?”
“Well…” I hesitate, not wanting to overstep, but now that he’s asked, my stomach gives a grumble.
“Yes?” His bushy brows raise as he encourages me.
“I’d love some French toast covered in salt, crispy smoked bacon, and maple syrup?” I almost wince at the end. I mean, itis closer to dinner time than breakfast, but I’m a firm believer that breakfast is to be enjoyed at any time of the day. Plus, soon the nausea will start, and so I’m determined to enjoy food while I can.
“Coming right up, Miss.” Jerry clicks his heels and gives a salute, a giggle falling from my lips, which has him beaming. “I’ll get that sorted asap.”
With that, he leaves, and I flop back into the bed, closing my eyes and trying to absorb what my life has become.
One thing is for sure.
We are certainly not in Kansas anymore.
CHAPTER TWO
“AWFUL BEAST” BY URSINE VULPINE
CHASE
My eyes feel gritty as we pull up to the house, Blade driving and Thorn in the back.
“Fuck, I just want to sleep for a week,” Thorn grumbles as Blade parks in front of the doors. They open, Jerry striding down the steps, a big smile on his face.
“At least someone is happy to see us,” I state, brushing down the wrinkles in my shirt as I open the door and get out.
“Master Chase, welcome home,” Jerry greets, even though it’s after midnight. Our flight from Europe, where we were attending a big Pharma conference, was late, even though we were using the private jet. Something to do with having to wait for space to take off, which is unacceptable in my opinion, and I’ll be chasing it up come Monday.
“Hey, Jerr,” Thorn answers, pulling the man into a hug. Jerry returns it, having been with us forever and being much more of afather than our actual father. None of us would dare to offer the great Richard Banks a hug. I shudder at the thought.
“Master Thorn, I hope you had a good trip?” Jerry asks, attempting to take Thorn’s bag, but as usual, none of us would allow him to carry our stuff. He’s pushing sixty, and we’re more than capable.
“It was boring as fuck,” my brother replies honestly, and Blade huffs a laugh, coming around from the truck with his and my bags in his hand. I take mine with a nod of thanks, then follow him as he heads up the stone steps and into the house.
Thorn doesn’t pretend that he would choose the path our father has laid out before us, that of taking over Banks Industries. Thorn’s talents lie in things that are more creative, and he finds most of what we do stifling and dull. My heart hurts for him. I wish he could just do what he’d like, wish we all could.
Though Blade and I enjoy our work with the company, both of us chose our Harvard courses to help us learn what we need to. Blade chose Biomedical Engineering, precise and technical, just like he is. He’s focused on understanding the science behind diseases and treatments, and I know that what happened with Mom has made him want to find new and better ways to treat cancer.
I’m going down the Business Administration and Finance route, preparing to eventually take over the day-to-day running of our family company. I’ve been taking extra courses to graduate early and am already involved in the company’s board meetings.
Thorn, on the other hand, is studying Psychology with a double major in Art. Father allows it on the provision that he will be joining the company once we all graduate, probably in the marketing department where at least his artistic skills can be put to use. Father’s words, not mine.
“Um, Master Chase?” Jerry’s voice comes from behind me, his tone hesitant and enough to give me pause. I turn around at the top of the stairs, the early summer breeze warm despite the hour.
“Yes, Jerry?” The poor man’s bushy brows lower, almost hiding his eyes completely. “It can’t be that bad, surely?”
“Well, you know that your new stepmother and her daughter moved in last week?” My teeth grind at the reminder of my father’s elopement with a woman whom he’d only known for six months. A woman who is, without question, a gold digger and is only interested in his money, her daughter too, I bet. “Well, you see, Mr. Banks hasn’t quite sorted her room yet, so he said she could take yours for the time being.”
I swallow hard as my nostrils flare.
My room is my sanctuary. The place where I can let go of all the expectations and just be me, and now even that’s gone.
I give him a sharp nod, my body tense as I run through my options.
