Page 20 of We Are Yours

I didn’t hesitate to remind him, “The only thing you like is that I sell your drugs.”

And that…

* * *

Was all that mattered to either of us.

Chapter

Eight

Isla

The rumble of Julius’s bike engine vibrated off the walls, and I smiled. He’d been gone all day. I couldn’t sleep. I was never much of a sleeper, and I preferred to crash on the couch more than I ever did on a bed. Perhaps it was because I wasn’t accustomed to having one, and I didn’t want to get used to the comfort.

This wasn’t a permanent stay for me. It was only temporary, and I never allowed myself to forget that. I was trying to figure out where I went from here, but for the life of me, I had no direction. This roof over my head was the only thing I had going for me, and I didn’t want to mess that up. I made sure to do my part in cleaning the house. It was the least I could do in return for his kindness.

The cops hadn’t come looking for me, and Julius still hadn’t asked me about it. I think that was probably the most surprising thing about him. He hadn’t pushed for any information. He was the first person I ever willingly gave my name to, and I didn’t second-guess myself about it.

I still felt horrible about that morning, and I couldn’t shake the memory of Julius’s face. I had to give him something when I practically forced him to open up. It wasn’t my intention at all.

For the past month, life was nice. Probably the nicest it’d ever been. I had peace in a house that didn’t offer the same gift to the brothers. I think it was part of the reason Julius stayed busy, and Kraven, I didn’t know what he was up to, but from Julius’s worry, it wasn’t any good.

When I did run into Kraven in the house, it was always the same hatred directed right at me, and it was why I made sure to keep my distance, not wanting to piss him off more than I already had. Thankfully, he wasn’t there much. I spent a lot of my time alone, and I was used to that. The only exception was that I didn’t have to look over my shoulder behind their concrete walls.

They’d become my fortress, and I guess you could say, Julius was the guard while Kraven was the executioner. They constantly butted heads over me, and I hated that just as much.

I took a deep breath, seeing the clock on the wall read almost one in the morning. It was usually the time Julius came back. He always had a snack for me, whether it was chocolate or chips. I started looking forward to it despite trying like hell not to let it get to me. Having a friend was different from what I thought it would be. I didn’t realize it’d be so terrifying, worried about losing someone who mattered. It was the scariest sensation, but that didn’t stop me from embracing it.

I’d been alone for so long that his friendship was steady, comforting, and easy.

There wasn’t a lot I could do to return the favor. I did what I could. I cleaned.

Everything.

Anything.

I kept the place spotless although Julius insisted that I didn’t have to do it. I wanted to, and I reminded him of that. It gave me something to keep my mind occupied, away from a future I didn’t want to acknowledge. For right now, I chose to hide in a house that never offered any protection to anyone but me, and that much was obvious.

I tried not to snoop, I really did. However, I was only human, and anytime I’d clean, I’d end up finding something new, like a half-used bottle of women’s perfume or a pink hairbrush, even a pair of old slippers. They were simple things to overlook and easy to toss out. Most were hidden under the couch or in the back of a cabinet.

As I was cleaning the garage that morning, organizing the boxes onto the shelves, one of the tops popped open, and a recipe book was right on top. I reached in and grabbed it. It was coated in dust, so I wiped it off. The recipes were all different, and when I found one that had ingredients we already had, I was in the kitchen cooking before I knew what I was doing.

Once again, I just wanted to show my appreciation. It was only spaghetti, but it was the first meal I’d ever made. Since Julius was usually home late, I cooked it late, wanting it to be fresh and warm for him.

I jumped off the couch, running to pull the garlic bread out of the oven. It was perfect timing. Once I stepped foot into the kitchen, the garage door opened, revealing Kraven instead.

Our eyes locked as I stood there frozen, impatiently waiting for his wrath like always. Rather than experiencing that, I received something else in its place. His gaze didn’t linger on me for very long, shifting to the recipe book on the counter instead.

His stare went wide, drawing in sadness for a brief second. The expression on his face betrayed that something deeper was going on, and I didn’t overlook the fact that he was openly showing me his torment.

I instantly wanted to apologize.

To explain.

To make it right.

Pleading my case wouldn’t matter. It was clear that the recipe book meant more than I could have ever imagined. Where Julius never made me feel like I had to speak, Kraven did.