Vicious Minds: Part 2 (Children of Vice 5)

“So, you admit you have secrets?”

“Like you don’t?” she shot back.

I shook my head. “Not from you, no, I don’t. You know everything about me. While I, on the other hand, seem to be left grasping for straws.”

“You’ve never complained before.”

“I’ve never lost so much because of you before!” I snapped, not just my tone, either, the glass broke in my hands, cutting my palm.

Her gray eyes shifted to my now bleeding hand before she got up, moving to the bathroom.

“Calliope, I am not finished!”

“Stop fucking yelling at me!” She came to the door to fucking yell in my face. “I am not going any-fucking-where but to get the goddamn first aid kit!”

“Screw the fucking first aid kit! I’m fine!”

“I don’t give a fuck if you are fine or not. You’re bleeding on my fucking carpet!” she shouted, marching like a giant, back over to me. She stepped over the glass before taking a seat beside me. Angrily she pulled out everything she needed. “I had this carpet hand-made in Egypt.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” I asked in annoyance. “You do understand how shitty this day was?”

“Yes, I do,” she replied, yanking my wrist over and elevating my hand to slow the blood flow. “Which is why I don’t want to forever remember it each time I look down and see blood and wine stains on our fucking carpet.”

I said nothing as she cleaned my hand.

“You still haven’t answered my question. Why do you need to go through Big Tillio in order to—ahh.” I hissed as she pressed the alcohol into my wound.

“Sorry,” she whispered with a slight smile on her lips.

“I am angry at you, Calliope.”

“I noticed.”

“Then do me the courtesy of at least looking bothered.”

She frowned, glancing up from my hand to stare at me. “I don’t look bothered?”

“Not bothered enough.”

“What is the exa

ct level of expression you’re looking for?”

Saying nothing, I reached for the bottle, drinking straight from the mouth as she patched up my hand. “This family cannot take many more setbacks, or people will start to lose faith.”

She was silent, and for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure what she was thinking. I wanted to holler in frustration. Why did she always have to be so damn difficult?

“How does that feel?” she asked, nodding to the bandage she had wrapped over my palm.

“I thought you only cared about your stupid carpet?”

She clicked her tongue and said nothing more as she packed up everything. “They won’t lose faith, if you don’t. Diamonds are made from pressure, Ethan. The more pressure, the more clarity.”

Reaching over, I cupped her cheek, running my thumb over her lips. “Ask me what happened today,” I said gently.

She sighed, trying to remove my hand. “Ethan, I know—”

“No, you don’t know all of it, so ask me.”