Page 38 of Dirty Crown
“It’s all the stuff she had done to her face,” Nat said, moving her hand across her own nose and lips. “She wants to be a real housewife of Oakville or some BS like that.”
“Ridiculous,” I said, emphasizing each syllable so hard that Nat laughed when I finished. I liked making my little sister laugh, and I would like making her life better. I should have never left her alone with our mom.
And despite our evening plans to get down and dirty had been ruined, I was still excited to have Nat the brat back under my wing.
* * *
“Doyou think she’ll ever be happy again?” I asked after a week of Nat living with us.
“She will, I promise,” Kingston said, as we watched Nat spar with Archer and Valen. She was back on the path learning how to defend herself even though she tended to make fun of me for being too paranoid.
She hadn’t started school in person again, private or public, but had chosen to go fully online for the rest of the year. I worried she would become too antisocial, but then I remembered how she’d started partying back in Oakville and was grateful she was kind of a recluse.
“Nice form,” a familiar voice said and I whirled around to find Amara standing in the doorway of our small training building. We’d installed it in our back yard so we could still work out while at college.
“Amara!” I exclaimed, and much to her surprise, I grabbed her in a huge hug and squeezed as tightly as I could. “I can’t believe you’re back!”
I stepped away and looked her up and down and nodded with excitement. She looked good, she’d healed and she looked healthy. It hadn’t even been that long since I’d last seen her, but she’d done well with herself.
“I couldn’t leave you alone, now, could I?” she said with her usual deadpan tone, but she was smiling. “I mean, who would be around to test you?”
She made a quick move towards me and I blocked her, tried to punch back and wound up on the floor on my back before I could see her hand and leg move.
“God dammit,” I laughed as she stood over me. “Why did I always fall for that one? You fake an opening, I take it, and you sweep your leg.”
“Every time,” she grinned and helped me to my feet. “Your sister could use some more training, you know. Will you have her long?”
“Forever, it seems,” I said and pressed my lips together to fight back the wave of emotions that rolled through me. It still hurt at times, realizing that our mother had chosen Reg over either one of us.
And yet I was still grateful that Nat was with me and not in Reg’s gross predatory hands.
“Your mother letting her man dictate her family again?” Amara asked and watched Nat spar with Ryker.
“He’s still around and he’s still calling the shots,” I said. “But he’s dangerous, too. Imagine that, knowing what your husband did to your daughter and what he’s capable of doing to your next one and yet you turn your back on them and stay by his side.”
“It’s a fucking shame,” Amara spat, her bitter emotions unable to be contained. “I can’t fathom that sort of thinking.”
“I don’t know what to do with Nat, she seems okay but I worry she’ll get into trouble if I can’t give her the time and attention she needs.”
Amara nodded, understanding where I was coming from. She turned to me and got into a fighting stance once more and said, “We’ll talk about it later. For now, I want to knock you down a couple more times just to remind myself that I can.”
She meant it with all the good humor in the world, but her words teased a red anger up from the pit of my stomach and I attacked.
We carried on like that, back and forth, for half n hour or so and she even let me win a couple of rounds.
When we finished, we walked to where Nat was still working out. This time she was alone and punching a hanging bag with all her might. I could sense the coiled rage inside of her, all the unspoken things that needed out, and it worried me.
I didn’t have that kind of dedicated work or time to put into her if I was going to stay in school. And I’d fought so hard to finish the semester and move into my third year that it felt silly for me to drop out now.
Amara was assessing her, I could tell by the way she kept careful watch of Nat’s movements and by the little nods she made every time Nat made a good strike with her fists or feet.
“I could help,” she said at last, and as soon as she spoke my little sister stopped in the middle of her workout, turned around and squealed.
“Amara!” she exclaimed and threw her arms around our friend. “You’re here! I was wondering what happened to you, I haven’t seen you in Oakville for so long now.”
“I’ve been travelling,” Amara said, stiff at the attention but clearly pleased with the affection. “I’m sorry I didn’t write you a letter or send a postcard.”
“Or text!” Nat said and stepped back. “You could have texted me, I missed our weekly runs.”
