Page 57 of Vicious Games

"I should have just died with him," I choke out, walking past her.

I can hear her cries as I climb the stairs, my vision blinded by my tears. Our fighting has caught the attention of the Taylor men, the four of them barrelling into the foyer. As I reach the top of the stairs, I turn my head, feeling burning stares digging into my back like a knife.

Asher is in the living room doorway, watching me. His hard mask is gone, distress reflecting back at me. He's holding onto the frame, almost as if he wants to come after me.

Gareth gives me a sympathetic glance, ducking into the den to comfort mom. Judging by all their expressions, they heard us.

And I fucking hate that.

I hate that they heard my pain, my darkest secrets.

I've handed ammunition over to people I don't trust, giving them the key to break me if they wish to do so.

The twins are standing next to Asher, their faces blank. They are giving nothing away and for all I know, they could be laughing on the inside. After all, they are the reason our parents came home.

Not me.

Not Asher.

Them.

Six long years of estrangement just to come back at the worst possible time, leaving casualty after casualty in their wake.

I look away, rushing into my bedroom. I need to find my keys, I need to get out of here.

Carmen has the literal key to my freedom.

I start frantically ripping my room apart, searching. It's in the back of my mind that the keys are probably not even in here. Asher would have stashed them somewhere else, probably his own room. But it's cathartic destroying shit.

Crashes and bangs echo around the room, and soon enough my usually clean floor is covered in belongings.

I don't even recognize this place any more. But the truth is, it was never mine. It was never home.

I was just the roommate from hell, disappointing everyone while they pitied me.

I'm so out of it that I don't even hear the bedroom door open until the sound of things moving around catches my attention. I swing around, expecting Asher and I'm fully prepared to get into another screaming match. In fact, I'm desperate for it.

But it's not who I expect.

Zayn is looking around my room, an entertained smile on his face.

"Wow, nice room. I like what you've done with it," he says.

I gape at him exasperatedly. I'm taken back, lost for words for a few seconds. "What are you doing in here?" I finally get out.

"I came to check on you," he answers as if it's the most obvious and simple thing in the world.

I'm horribly vulnerable, hating that he's even in here, let alone seeing me like this.

"Why?"

Zayn kicks the abandoned duvet that's still on the floor from my pre-havoc encounter with Asher. "Because I'm your big bro."

"You're a stranger," I point out.

He laughs. "True. But I'm sure we'll get to know each other in time."

"Doubtful. As soon as I find my car keys, I'm leaving for good," I say, turning to continue looking.

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