But of course, I hear the clickety-clack of her heels as she runs after me. “Wait!” she begs softly. Somehow, everything about her is soft—that mass of hair, her porcelain skin, and those full lips. Shaking my head, I refuse to look at her and keep walking, but she manages to catch up with me by taking long strides.
“Come on, Kade,” she says with that begging voice that used to work so well on our father. She managed to be Daddy’s girl even though she wasn’t even his blood. “Why won’t you talk to me? You know what happened isn’t my fault. I just want to—”
“I’m not dealing with you today,” I tell her and keep walking.
She doesn’t waver. She trails me like a lost puppy.
“You have to talk to me at some point,” she presses, and I shake my head. “Please, Kade! I’m so alone… I have no one anymore.”
“Not today,” I tell her. “Not now. It’s… It’s too fucking soon, June.”
That seems to shut her up for a bit, but she’s still following me relentlessly. The noise of her heels is driving me insane, and I rub my eyes as I walk, too tired to deal with this now. I have enough problems without Poor Little Rich Girl following my every step.
“Please, Kade,” she says behind my back, but I refuse to turn around or give her the time of day. It fucking stings, though, because I’m a man who protects the ones I love. But not her, I remind myself. She’s on her own now, and she’s got enough money to take care of all her problems.
“Let me be, June,” I tell her sternly and quicken my pace, but she runs behind me, wrapping a shaky hand around my forearm. I turn around and rip my arm out of her touch, watching her lips tremble with sadness.
“I’m so lonely,” she says sadly. “I miss you … You have each other, and I got…”
“You got our parents' fortune,” I tell her sternly. “You got every cent, and don’t pretend you’d give it up for us. We’re not going to play the puppets in your little play, so you might as well give up and get. Fucking. Lost.”
With that, I finally turn around and walk away, and this time, she doesn’t follow.
But the image of her quivering bottom lip is etched onto my brain now, and I know it will be even harder to fall asleep tonight.3ParkerPainting eyes is a motherfucking bitch.
I've struggled with it for years. A gaze can hold so many emotions, and I struggle to catch them all with my paintbrush. But still, I try.
My favorite way to practice is to draw myself and my brother. Two identical faces stare at me from the canvas with blank white spaces where the eyes should be. It's time to tackle the hardest part.
Picking up a paintbrush, I mix the perfect shade of gray that's the same color as our irises. I take a deep breath and get to work.
Hours must pass, because next thing I know, Kade's calling me downstairs for dinner.
I leave the makeshift studio my brother created for me beneath the roof of the apartment. I don't even look at the finished painting, unable to be critical of my own work. I tell myself I'll show it to Kade later. He’s always honest in a kind way.
We sit down to a dinner of the takeout I ordered earlier, and I tell my brother all I've been up to, but he's stubbornly quiet and pissed off again tonight. Every night lately has been like this. Since we lost June, Kade has retreated into the abyss of his mind. Usually, he'd at least let me in, but this time, the door is shut, bolted, and locked twice.
"I'm going out tonight." Kade clears the table and starts doing the dishes.
"Again?"
"Got a problem?" he asks over his shoulder.
I don't answer, throwing my legs on the table where we've just eaten. My brother's pissing me off, so why wouldn't I get to piss him off, too?
The moment he turns around and sees my feet up, he grunts for me to take them off.
"I'm coming with you," I tell him resolutely, but he just laughs in return. "I'm serious, Kade, I want to get out of this fucking place."
"I don't think that's a good idea." He grabs his leather jacket and puts it on. I guess by going out tonight, he meant going out right the fuck now. Like the jerk can't stand to be in my company for five fucking minutes. Anger boils inside me, and I have to bite my lip, so I don't tell Kade what I really think about his stupid games.
"I painted today," I tell him.
"Oh, yeah?" His face lights up. Hope is such a wonderful thing. "Can I see?"