Page 9 of Gabriel

“Wait—Jet Jet?” Penelope asked, sitting up straighter, eyes widening. “Your bad-boy, scary-hot brother?”

“Don’t say it like that,” I groaned.

“You make it sound like it’s a soap opera,” Anya muttered. “Or one of my romance novels.”

“Wearein a soap opera,” Penelope said, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to her chest.

I laughed despite myself, but it faded quickly.

“He was at Revelation,” I said. “He shouldn’t be in the States, never mind Connecticut."

Anya rolled her eyes, then focused back on her Kindle as she grumbled, “It seems everyone but me was at Revelation tonight.”

“Hey, don’t be mad,” Penelope retorted. “You’re under twenty-one, and you look barely of age. It would have?—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Anya cut her off. “No matter, because I had an awesome night with my blue alien.”

Penelope, Skye, and I shared a guilty look. Maybe we should have included Anya on our little excursion to Revelation, but Pen was right. No amount of makeup could make Anya look legal.

“Was Jet alone?” Skye signed, watching me closely.

I shook my head. “He was talking to someone. It looked serious. I couldn’t hear much, but it didn’t seem like a social visit.”

Penelope tilted her head. “Do your parents know he’s stateside?”

“I doubt it.”

Skye reached over and squeezed my hand gently.

“Maybe he just wanted to get laid?” she signed.

I scoffed. “And he traveled all the way here to do so? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Did you ask him?” Penelope suggested.

“Yeah, after I got rid of Santos—” Anya lifted her head, narrowing her eyes on me, and I quickly amended my statement. “After I had a nice little chat with Gabriel, I called Jet. He said he was just handling some business.”

“Maybe he was,” Pen muttered.

“These mobsters make deals anywhere,” Skye offered.

“Yeah, maybe,” I agreed reluctantly.

I stared down at the cereal in my hand and let the words pour out before I lost my nerve.

“I think I’m going to take some time to backpack Europe.”

“You should,” Penelope said.

“Yes, do it. You’ve been talking about it for years,” Skye signed, always ready to support everyone.

“You shouldn’t do it alone,” Anya chimed in, shutting her Kindle. “It’s safer if you have a backpacking buddy.”

I tilted my head. I wasn’t scared of doing it alone, but Anya wasn’t wrong, and there was no sense in worrying my family. They would probably be more open to the idea if I told them I’d bring Elira along.

Silence hung thick in the room, the music filling the space where none of us knew what to say.

“So when are you going to do it?” Skye signed.