Page 29

Lucas

Pulling up to my stepdad’s house has dread settling in my stomach like a lead weight. This is where I lived for the last half of high school, but it never felt like home.

When my mom married Greg, we left our hometown to move to Birchwood. It got us away from Dad, and it made all our financial troubles disappear overnight. But Greg never bothered to account for the fact that he was wrenching us away from everything Aurora and I knew. Our grandparents, our friends, our school, our home.

Greg’s support is the reason that the life has returned to Mom’s eyes. He’s the reason she’s made so much progress in healing from my dad’s abuse. He’s also the reason Aurora can pursue her dreams.

That doesn’t mean I have to like being part of the Grayson family.

Greg prioritized our safety, and I’ll always be grateful he got Mom and Rora away from Dad, but I’ll never forgive him for uprooting our lives, either. I begged them to let us finish out high school in our hometown, but Greg wanted us in Birchwood as soon as possible. The only reason I don’t completely hate him is because he let Xander move with us.

If I can avoid talking to him, I always do, so I don’t head into the house. Instead, I walk around back to the little patio outside Aurora’s dance studio. There’s a sliding glass door that leads inside, and I open it, frowning at the fact that she left it unlocked.

Aurora catches sight of me mid-pirouette and lands early. “Lucas!”

I force a smile. “Hey, Rora.”

After turning off her music, she crosses the studio to me. She’s in one of her light pink leotards with a sheer skirt tied at her hips, but what catches my attention is the exhaustion she tries to mask with a bright smile.

It kills me, realizing we’re both doing the same thing for each other. Putting on a show so we don’t worry about the other too much.

“You okay?” I ask, unable to hide the concern in my voice. “You eat breakfast this morning?”

“Ugh, chill, Luc.” She rolls her eyes. “Jeremy and I ate breakfast together. Now, what are you doing here?”

“Can’t I drop in to say hi to my little sister?”

Crossing her arms, she cuts me with a you-can’t-pull-that-shit-with-me look. She knows better than anyone how much I hate this damn house. I haven’t been here in over a month, although I try to catch up with Rora at least once a week. Just… not here.

“Fine.” Running a hand through my hair, I take a deep breath. “Could I… could you give me a couple of your anxiety pills?”

Her face falls. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. They’re not for me.”

She narrows her eyes.

“Promise, Rora. They’re for a friend. She’s having a really hard time. Panic attacks and all that shit.”

“Oh.” Her expression softens. “Yeah, you can have some. I’ve been doing a little better lately, anyway.”

“You have?”

“Mmhmm. I think getting back into the swing of things is helping. You know, with school and dance classes and all that.” She’s already digging through her bag and pulling out the orange prescription bottle. “I’m still getting my refills though, just in case.”

“That’s… that’s really good, Rora. I’m glad you’re doing better.”

She grins, but it feels hollow. I believe her about her anxiety, but there’s something else going on. I can feel it.

Aurora dumps a handful of tiny white pills into the palm of my hand. “Tell her to take them every eight hours as needed. Oh, and it’s pretty easy to get a prescription from the doctor.”

“Not really sure what her health insurance situation is.”

“Oh. Right.” She bites her lip, her brows furrowing.

We didn’t grow up with all this shit, her and I. The fancy cars, the huge house, the unlimited budgets. It’s been a few years since we moved in with Greg and got all the perks that come with being his kids, but neither of us have ever gotten used to it.

No doubt, Aurora is recalling one of the many times when we couldn’t afford an urgent care visit, let alone a prescription.

“Hey.” I knock her in the shoulder gently. “Don’t go all quiet on me like that.”

It’s something she used to do a lot, back when she was struggling the most. Seeing her slip into it again brings back memories I’d like to keep buried.

“Right.” She blinks, straightening. “Sorry. She’ll be okay?”

“Who?”

“Your friend.”

“Yeah.” I kiss the top of her head. “I’ll make sure of it. Is there something bugging you?”

“What? No. I’m fine.”

“You just look tired. If you need anything—”

“I’m fine, Luc. Now get out of here. I have to practice.”

“Fine. Meet up for hot chocolate early next week?”

She hesitates for a split second before smiling and nodding. “I’d like that.”

Fake, fake, fake.

The alarms sounding in my head are almost too loud to ignore. I want to carry her up to her bathroom and place her on that damned scale of hers to see if she’s losing weight again. I want to watch her, make sure she’s eating enough, make her see herself the way everyone else does.

She’s so fucking beautiful, but she can’t believe it.

“Lucas? Are you all right?”

At the worry in Aurora’s voice, I start. There are tears in my eyes, and my chest is tight.

No, I want to tell her. I’m worried that the next time I hear from Mom, it’ll be to tell me that you’re back in the hospital. Or worse.

“Just… remember I love you, all right? A lot of people do. Just as you are, Rora.”

Disbelief flashes in her eyes, and the urge to go on a fucking rampage grips me. She loves her ballet studio, but all I see is a cage of mirrors. A constant showcase of every one of the flaws she obsesses over.

“I love you, too.” She rises onto her tiptoes and gives me a hug. “See you soon.”

With the pills in my pocket, I head back out to my bike. Something is off with her, and I’ve gotta figure out what it is. I’d ask Jeremy—her dance partner—but he’s too loyal. He’d tell Aurora I asked the second he could, and if she knows I’m going behind her back, she’ll start hiding things from me more than she already does.

Between the volunteer work she does, therapy, and Greg, Mom doesn’t pay close enough attention to Aurora, especially now that she’s an “adult.” That leaves only one person I can ask.

Lucas: Is Aurora eating enough?

Theo: How the fuck would I know? She’s not a toddler.

I grit my teeth. Sometimes, my stepbrother’s antics make me want to throw him out a window.

Lucas: You can lie to our parents, but you can’t to me. I know you keep tabs on her.

His read receipts indicate that he sees the message immediately, but he doesn’t reply. I count down from sixty, something my high school counselor taught me to help control my anger issues.

It’s never worked.

Lucas: Don’t fucking play with me if you want to live to see another day, bitch.

That “typing” bubble pops up on his side of the screen, but then it disappears. I’m just about ready to shove my phone in my pocket when it shows up again.

Theo: She’s down to two meals a day.

Fuck. She’s testing the limits again. Seeing what she can get away with before anyone notices.

Before I can type out a response, a second message appears on my screen.

Theo: She got cast as the understudy for the Sugar Plum Fairy.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. She’s wanted that role since she was seven. My mom had been gifted two tickets to the Nutcracker, so she’d taken Aurora. It’s what sparked my sister’s interest in ballet, and she taught herself by watching YouTube tutorials until she got a scholarship to a local dance school.

She’s worked hard, and no one deserves that role more than she does. Getting cast as the understudy was probably like a slap to the face. She’s a junior, which means she only has one year left to make the role.

Ballet isn’t my thing, but I’ve lived in close enough proximity to it for long enough. Rora has performed in the Nutcracker for years—at the show her school put on back home, and at Pemberton’s production of it since she enrolled. I know when casting season is, and it was at least a month ago but probably longer.

Which means she’s been hiding this from me.

Fuck. Why wasn’t I paying better attention?

Theo: Damn. I suspected she’d kept it from you, but I wasn’t sure.

Lucas: Why the hell didn’t you tell me?

Theo: You can’t protect her forever.

I’m gonna kill him.

Shoving my phone in my pocket, I start my bike and tear out of the driveway. All I want to do is figure out wherever Theo is right now and give him a piece of my mind, but I can’t. My focus needs to be on Haven.

When Xander left to go talk to Colton, Haven only slipped further into her panic. She could barely breathe, and anything I did to help made her lash out. I have the claw marks down my arms to prove it, hidden beneath my jacket so I wouldn’t freak Rora out.

I’m going double the speed limit, and I run multiple stop signs on my way back to Colton’s. The thrill of it calms me, but that’s not the only reason. Now that Aurora isn’t in front of me, I feel god-awful for taking so long to get back. I should’ve waited to text Theo, I was just so…

My grip on the steering wheel tightens. Growing up, my mom put more of a focus on Aurora, especially after she started excelling in ballet. It’s how I wanted things. Every chance I got, I rerouted Mom’s attention to my little sister. It was too late for me to turn out normal, and I wanted her to be okay.

I still do. But between classes, football, and the Rooks, I have so little time to check in on her. Sometimes I want to bash Theo’s head in, but he’s the one who’s home the most. The fact that he didn’t tell me that Aurora was showing signs of relapsing pisses me off.

When I walk inside Colton’s mansion, the house is quiet. It takes me searching the entire upstairs before I realize the basement door is open.

Shit.

I bolt down the stairs and head directly for Colton’s play room, practically kicking the door down. But what I see is the last thing I expected.

Colton is standing underneath a metal suspension frame. His hands are cuffed to the bar above his head, and his jaw is set. He’s near-naked, in nothing but his black briefs.

Directly in front of him is Haven. She’s gripping a flogger in her right hand, and Xander has a protective hand on her back.

“Go ahead, doll. Give him hell.”

I slam the door behind me. “What the fuck is going on here?”