Page 86 of The Deceptions

But for now, I’m heading back to my dorm to prepare for my second class in two hours.

Or I would be. As soon as I step into the hall, I’m met with a familiar face leaning against the wall near the double doors with an unlit cigarette between his lips.

Jackson Wilder.

My teethclench at the sight of my so-called brother and Brutus hanging outside the double doors, cracking their knuckles and cackling like dickheads.

“Fucking high school bullies,” I grumble under my breath to no one in particular. “Grow the fuck up.”

That’s impossible for them. Especially Mack. He’s perpetually twelve-years-old with no sign that he'll mature any time soon.

Someone needs to knock both of them on their asses to teach them a lesson. Punch a tooth loose. Break their bones. Which seems impossible with how massive Brutus has become over the summer. Obviously, those shit heads have been training him for Franco.

He'll make a great enforcer for their cause one day. I can see it now, having to take him out whenever our plans come to fruition. They’re grooming him for the future.

Fuck.

The future. It’s full of possibilities and unknowns. I hate not knowing what to expect or who I need to protect.

Mack has always lived a cushy life. The youngest. The favorite. I was the responsible one. The one forced to pick up the slack around the house when he went to play with his friends.

And I let him. Why should he have to be responsible like me? I had it covered for the both of us.

At least one of us had a real childhood.

And then the little bastard betrayed me. His brother. The one who put food on the table and clothes on his back.

“Why the fuck is social services talking to Mom?” I hiss, slamming through our bedroom door and shutting it behind me.

My heart pounds rapidly at the implications. Do I want a better home with a parent who is present? Yes. But Mack needs me to take care of him. I’m his older brother. The provider of this family.

Mack momentarily stops packing a duffel bag and squares his shoulders. Almost with pride in his eyes.

“They’re taking me.”

My breath nearly leaves my lungs. “T-taking us?”

“Not us. Me.” He goes back to packing like his words weren’t an ice pick to the heart. So cold and calculating.

“J-just you?” I breathe, furrowing my brows. “B-but what about me?”

“Yeah. Me.” He shrugs nonchalantly like I don’t matter. Like I didn’t sacrifice everything to give us a good life. I might be young and stupid, but I know how to survive.

Always survive.

“Why you?” I growl, balling my fists.

It doesn’t make sense. There are two neglected kids in this mold-infested house. Hello! I’m here, too. I deserve better than a mom who wants to smoke her money away and forgets to getfood for us. I’m the one in line at the food bank and using our assistance to get food at the grocery store. Not her. All she feeds us are insults and cigarette burns.

“I dunno, man. I was with Hux and telling Franco about this.” He waves a hand at the room with several holes in the wall from our fights.

Our mattresses rest on the floors, and clothes barely hang in the closet. The scent of cigarettes and body odor hangs like a black cloud throughout our home. It’s not much. There’s never peace here. But it’s a roof over our head—protection from the weather.

And the one perk we had—we had each other.

Now? I’ll be on my own, unless they take me, too. My mom wouldn’t survive a day without someone cooking for her. Since her last boyfriend took off, taking all her savings with him, she hasn’t been able to function.

Mack doesn’t pause once to think about what he’s done or who this affects. He never does. His impulses get the better of him.