Page 67 of Evil King

I looked at Nathan, but the fact that he’d lied to me meant nothing. When I looked at Deon, however, my heart broke. I loved him so much. What else was he hiding from me?

“I can’t believe this,” I said finally.

I stormed away from Deon and Nathan to where Alistair and Avery were standing.

“I swear we didn’t know,” Avery said quickly.

I nodded. “Okay. You were right, Avery. We shouldn’t have come here.” I looked pleadingly at Alistair. “Can you take me home?”

“Of course,” he responded, and I didn’t wait. I immediately walked off back toward Alistair’s car.

I’d been betrayed enough for one day. I just wanted to crawl in bed and never come out.

28

Deon

“Nathan, this is your brother, Deon.”

He was a little scrawny, I thought, but his brown eyes were warm and welcoming, and he seemed truly happy to see me.

“H-hi,” he greeted, holding out his hand toward me. “I’m Nathan.”

A handshake? We were only ten. What kind of ten-year-olds shake hands?

“Go on, Deon,” Connor said. “Shake his hand. It’s the manly thing to do.”

I reached out, took his hand, and shook it, and he smiled back at me. “I can’t believe I have a brother. I’ve always wanted a brother.”

I’d always wanted one too. All of the kids in my neighborhood had siblings, and I was always jealous of them. They always had someone around to play with and talk to. I had my mom, but she worked a lot and was gone most of the time. The kids in the neighborhood would hang out with me, but eventually, the streetlights would come on. They’d all had to go home, and I’d be alone again.

Even if I missed my mom, my old friends, and my old room, having a brother—that was something I could get used to.

“What’s that?” Nathan asked when I pulled my basketball out of my backpack as I was unpacking in my new gigantic bedroom.

“Are you serious?” I asked. He blinked back at me innocently. I held it out toward him. “It’s a basketball. Haven’t you ever played?”

“No. I don’t really have time for sports,” he replied, tossing the ball up and down a couple of times.

“You don’t have time? What do you do besides school?” I asked.

Nathan’s eyes guided up toward the ceiling as he thought. “Well, before school, I have to work on my Spanish and my French. Then after school, is Italian and German. I get a little break for dinner, and then before bed, I study business.”

My jaw dropped. “You do all of that? When do you play with your friends?”

Nathan’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I…don’t really have any friends.” That made me sad—a kid with no friends. I wouldn’t like that very much. He rolled the ball in his hands a few times before finally saying, “It’s kind of heavy.”

I wrinkled up my nose. “No it’s not.” I sputtered out a laugh. “You’re weak.”

Nathan’s smile turned into a scowl instantly. “No I’m not! I’m strong!”

“It’s okay! I’m just roasting you,” I said.

Nathan tilted his head to the left. “Roasting?” He looked at the distance between us. “You’re not even touching me.”

Was this kid serious? What world had he lived in? “No, roasting, like making fun of you. It’s what friends do.”

“We’re not friends. We are brothers,” Nathan said.

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