“You ever notice that everyone in your family has the same color eyes?”
I made a face. I knew I had blue eyes and everyone else had green. But I learned in science class that blue and green were basically the same thing, so whatever.
I was a Servant and that was all that mattered.
“I guess so.”
“Did you ever ask your mom why?”
I shook my head. “Genetics or whatever.”
“That’s true. You’re a smart kid.”
“I think I should head back inside.” I stood up and started back toward the door.
Roman caught my arm. “Hold up. I need to talk to you.”
“What do you want?”
He pulled me away from the house. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like it at all. I wanted to get away, but Roman was Darren’s friend, and I didn’t want to be a fucking loser. I was a Servant. I wasn’t a loser.
He stopped at the far end of the pool. It was darker in the shade of some big trees. Nobody else was around.
“I don’t know how to say this so I’m going to just say it.” Roman stared at me with this weird look on his face. “Your family hasn’t been honest about where you’re from.”
“Dude, shut up. You’re joking.”
“Your eyes, kid. You have blue eyes, just like me.”
“Whatever. It’s just genetics. Blue and green are like the same thing.”
“Anthony.” Roman seemed upset. I didn’t know why but he was freaking me out. “You’re my brother.”
I laughed. What a stupid thing to say. I wasn’t his brother. I was Darren’s brother. But he wasn’t laughing. “Shut up, man. This is really lame.”
“My dad and your mom had an affair. Shit, I can’t believe they haven’t told you, but you need to know. I had a brother a long time ago but he died, and his name was Anthony, too.”
I stared at him. I was on the verge of freaking out. “Stop it. You’re being weird.”
“I think my dad forced your mom to name you after my brother. You’re my half-brother, that’s why your eyes are blue. I don’t want anything from you and your life doesn’t have to change, but I needed you to know that. You’re my brother.”
“Shut the hell up.” I ran at him. I was so pissed. He was lying and saying the dumbest fucking shit ever, so I smashed into him and knocked him backwards.
Something fell from the waistband of his pants. It glittered in the moonlight.
A gun. A real, freaking gun.
I knew guns.
Darren taught me how to load and use them. I grabbed it from the grass and held it up, aiming right at Roman. I wasn’t a good shot, not like Darren, but I wouldn’t miss.
“What are you doing?” Roman held his hands up.
“You’re lying to me. Say you’re lying. I’m a Servant.”
“You’re a Servant,” Roman said slowly, “but I’m not lying to you. We’re half-brothers.”
“Shut up. Shut the hell up.” I felt dizzy. My entire life was built around my name. I was a freaking Servant.
And now this weird stupid moron idiot asshole was telling me I wasn’t?
“I’m sorry. I know it’s hard, but I’m telling you the truth. It’s why we have the same color eyes. Look at me, Anthony.”
I stared into his eyes.
It was like a stinking mirror. The same exact color.
My arms went weak. They trembled. My hand shook. Tears stung my eyes. I didn’t want to cry, not at a party like this. Darren took a risk bringing me along. Erin thought it was a bad idea and I didn’t want to prove her right by crying like a freaking baby.
Roman got up and stepped toward me, holding out a hand.
“It’s okay, little man. You’re gonna be fine. Nothing has to change, but now you know the truth. You’re my half-brother. You’re a Servant but you’re also a Lenkhov.”
I pressed the gun against my chest. Right near my beating heart.
“No, no, no, no.”
I was a Servant. I was always a Servant.
What the hell was I if I wasn’t that?
My entire life was a lie.
Mom lied. Darren and Erin and Liv and Penny all lied. They probably knew. They laughed about it all the time, I bet.
Stupid Anthony with his stupid blue eyes.
Not a real Servant. A fake one.
A loser and a phony.
I was worthless. Nothing. Darren bringing me here was a joke.
“Anthony.” Roman held out a hand then lunged forward.
I tried to pull away but the gun went off.
The noise was amazing. It left my ears ringing.
Then the pain.
Oh my god, the pain. I didn’t mean to shoot. I wanted to hurt myself but mostly just scare Roman and maybe—I didn’t know what I wanted. But god, oh my god, oh my god, it hurt so bad.
I fell forward, groaning. I was soaking wet. Did I fall in the pool? Make that sick jump? But no—it was sticky and red.