Page 12 of Among the Sins of my Father

I groan in frustration. “You’re so bloody-minded.”

“And you’re too naïve to see what’s in front of your fucking face.” His eyes lower to where my fists clench at my sides, my discarded underwear bunching between my fingers.

I want to blurt out the truth to Gideon. I want to tell him his brother isn’t the kind of monster he thinks he is. But it isn’t my secret to tell. “He gives you everything, Gideon, and asks for nothing in return.”

“I earn my way.”

“How?”

Gideon’s eyes narrow. “You’re awfully feisty today, aren’t you? Did he not perform properly? Is there an undercurrent of frustration I’m sensing here?” He steps closer, leaning to whisper in my ear, “I could help you with that, you know.”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

He laughs, throwing his head back, curls bouncing. “And you’re too easy to rile up.”

I glare at him for a few moments before turning away and storming off. I can’t deal with him right now. But Gideon doesn’t want our conversation to be over. He follows, chasing me down the hallway.

“I earn my way by gambling.”

I snort.

“What? It’s the same way Jericho earned his start.”

“And how’s it working out for you, huh? Managed to buy your own home yet? Run your own business? In fact, have you managed to do anything but lounge around drinking?”

Gideon sucks in an exaggerated breath. “Someone’s found her claws.”

Frustration slices through me and I turn around and shove him, both hands planted into his chest. He stumbles back but manages to regain his footing. I start to run up the stairs, needing to be away from him but again, he follows.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Well, not all of it anyway. It’s just you’re so cute when you’re angry.”

I let out a second frustrated wail, earning another laugh from Gideon. He holds up his hands and stops following me. “Okay, okay. I’m being an asshole. I’ll stop now. I just want to talk for a bit. Sometimes I feel left out of my own life. I don’t know whether it’s because Jericho thinks he’s protecting me, or he doesn’t trust me, but it’s hard. It’s lonely.”

His words stop me from walking any further. There’s real hurt in his voice. He doesn’t know the truth. He still thinks Jericho killed their father. I sink down to sit on one of the steps and Gideon comes to join me. His fingers wrap around the railing of the banister. The muffled but heated voices of Hope and Jericho float down from above.

“Did you know they’d found Hope?”

“I was there.”

A flash of pain cuts across Gideon’s face.

“It all happened rather suddenly.”

Gideon nods, his fingers tightening around the intricate railing. “Too suddenly to even let me know it was happening?”

“Believe me, it wasn’t anything you wanted to see. Hope was—” I pause, thinking of the best way to word it. “Hope was scared. She was handcuffed when we arrived.”

“Fucking Keating,” Gideon mutters. “I always thought it was him but Jericho would never listen to me. He listens to Barrett but never me.”

“It wasn’t Keating. It was his son.”

A frown pressed between Gideon’s brow. “His son? I didn’t even know he had a son. Why?”

I sigh, leaning back as I think of Dominic. He has such an easy smile and easy manner; it’s still hard to think of him capable of such a thing. It was like two different people were residing in the same body. Makes me wonder how many others are like that.

“He said he did it to make his father proud but I thought he’d always hated his father.”

Gideon tilts his head, leaning it against the banister. “I suppose I can understand that, hating someone but still wanting to make them proud.” He smiles sadly. “Kind of like me and Jericho. I hate him, I honestly do, but sometimes there’s nothing I want more than for him to actually notice me.”

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