The Runaway Sister

three | charming reunion

I sit in the dining room, staring into the harsh eyes of Cassian. A frown adorns his lips. A new scar is situated on the top of his eyebrow. Did he get it from a fight? A murder gone wrong? I shudder to think.

Cassian is the assassin of my brothers' mafia. He kills all day, every day. How much blood weighs down his shoulders? Does he ever feel remorseful or guilty? By the looks of him, it's unlikely. He seems almost proud. 

"So, little sister, how's life been? Missed me?" A cocky voice rises up. I glance sideways at the cockier, identical version of Luke—Logan. A playful smirk rests on his thin lips. A tattoo peeks out of the cuff of his leather jacket.

"My life was wonderful before I came back to this... place. This... poor excuse of a family never crossed my mind in England."

The twins laugh quietly. Cassian raises an eyebrow at my sassy reply. Alexander stares at me with dead eyes, his elbows resting on the white tablecloth and his hands clasped together. He leans forward.

Alexander sends me a pointed look, "As we've discussed prior, cheekiness is not welcomed," I roll my eyes, "I don't expect you to respect any of us currently, especially not Luke—"

"Hey!" Luke gasps, placing a hand over his heart. His eyes are wide in fake betrayal. "I am the most respectable. I'm Ev's favorite."

"Hm? Is that so, dear sister?" Cassian asks, his lips turning upward.

"I dislike all of you," I snap at him.

Women come out wielding plates of steak and seasoned potatoes. The food smells divine. I ignore it, though, continuing to throw disgusted looks at my brothers. Luke has resorted to inhaling his dinner like a ravenous beast. 

"Eat your dinner, sweetheart," Sullivan encourages. My nose turns upwards at his new nickname for me. 

"Sweetheart," Luke immediately says, smiling mischievously. 

"Shut up," I grumble. 

"For a sister who's supposed to 'hate' us, you're quite talkative," Logan points out. I scowl, and resolve to never speak to them the entire time I'm here, which won't be for a long time. Will I be able to get out before I'm eighteen years of age? 

Will they let me go? 

I'll run away before I'm married off. That's all they need me for. Alliances. Money. Power. I'm just a pawn in this game of being in the mafia. 

"What did Uncle Roger tell you, anyway? I mean, sure, you were naive as a kid, but what did he say to make you wish we never found you?" Luke asks suddenly, making the air still. All eyes are glued to my head. 

I keep my gaze fixed in my now-cold, untouched dinner. On the drive to the airport, when I was a crying, screaming mess, Uncle reminded me what he showed me in the warehouse. He reminded me that I would end up like that bloody, hysterical woman. The woman that Sullivan shot between the eyes. 

"I'd like to know, as well," Cassian says, leaning back. 

I remind myself that I am giving them the silent treatment. Not speaking for three, hopefully less, years? Fine by me. I cross my arms over my chest, swinging my legs back and forth against the wooden floorboards. 

"You're ignoring us now?" Luke asks in a mystified tone. 

The door bursts open. Zachary, the middle brother, stands there. His hair is disheveled. His clothes are dirty. But, most notably, blood is all over him. His shoes. His clothes. Then I notice a small gun in his hand, and I begin to breathe heavily. 

My mind transports back to that day eight years ago when Uncle took me to the warehouse. He led me down many hallways until we reached a cell. A woman shrieked, pleading for mercy. Uncle Roger hoisted me up so I could peek inside. 

I saw my brothers, even the ten-year-old twins, manically grinning at a woman who was tied to a chair. She was badly beaten. Blood stained her body. Then Sullivan raised a gun. And boom. Her head fell back, and Uncle whisked me, who was in a dazed state, away. 

My fingers wrap around the table. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, trying to make myself breathe normally. My hearing becomes warped. I hear yelling. "Zachary! You knew Evelyn was coming back today!" Someone scolds. 

Another voice is softer, close to me. "Ev? Sweetheart?" Sullivan. He rubs my back, telling me I am safe. Safe. 

But then I think about the woman he shot. 

She wasn't safe. 

"Zachary's gone. Everything's fine." Luke. 

Slowly, I come back to reality. I open my eyes. My hands loosen from the table and drop to my lap. I let my hair fall over my beet-red face, a common tool I seem to use often. My two brothers back away from me, slightly confused at what to do now. 

"Zachary was away for business, Evelyn. Are you feeling well now?" Alexander asks in his normal, stiff tone. I don't look up. I stare at my hands clasped tightly around each other, turning my palms a pastry white. "Follow me to my office. Now seems like the best time for this conversation." 

When I don't move, Alexander lets out an exasperated sigh. Sullivan pipes in, "I'll come too." But I don't want him to come, either. I know his true colors. I know that I am living amongst monsters; monsters I thought I escaped long ago. 

I stand up robotically and follow Alexander and Sullivan up the stairs so I don't end up with a bullet in my brain. We go to the third floor, a floor I was never allowed to go to as a child. Will I have more access to this home as a mature teenager rather than a silly girl? 

Alexander unlocks hefty, polished brown doors, revealing a dark office. A fireplace is cold. There is a sturdy desk with a leather chair behind it and two before it. Alexander motions for me to sit down, so I begrudgingly do. Sullivan takes a seat on a sofa by the massive bookshelf. 

"What happened in the dining room, Evelyn? You know of our work. I know you don't condone it, but why did seeing Zachary bring out such a reaction?" 

I glare at him. My eyebrows are tilted. My eyes are narrow. 'I don't trust you. Why should I?' I want to say, but I don't. Alexander rubs his eyebrows with his hand. "Fine then. Let's get onto the rules, shall we? You'll have a body guard. Don't leave this house without permission. Don't come to this floor without Sullivan, Cassian, or myself." 

"You'll begin school at Saint Mary's on Monday," Sullivan adds. My eyes widen, and possibly sparkle in excitement, too. Real school? I'll be allowed to leave this house? 

"Yes. We've already purchased your uniform. I got the measurements from your social worker," Alexander notes, "School rules are simple enough, too. No boyfriends, you're too young for that. Friends who are boys are fine, however." 

No boyfriends? Is that to save me for my future husband they choose for me? 

I stand from the chair. "Yes, that's all," Alexander dismisses me. As I'm wrapping my hand around the knob, he adds, "I'm glad you're back, Ev. You have no idea how much I've missed your smile." 

I rush out before I can contemplate his words. 

Are monster capable of loving someone, or, most importantly, being loved?