“I suggested they wait for you but…” I glance over her shoulder to find my family already eating.
It makes me wonder if they’d even notice if I didn’t appear at all.
“Cole, get in here. We want to hear about tomorrow night’s game,” James calls. Just the sound of his voice makes my blood begin to boil.
After everything, that asshole thinks he can suddenly just play Dad and that we’ll all forget about the past, accept his big house and money and move on with our lives?
It’s basically what Ace and Conner are doing, a little voice says.
I look at the two of them. Conner, unsurprisingly, is shoveling food into his mouth at the speed of light. I have no idea if it’s because he’s always hungry like he claims or if it’s just an ingrained thing from our childhood: eat what’s in front of you because we have no idea when the next meal might come.
Ace, on the other hand, eats much more slowly, seemingly more interested in his girl sitting beside him than anything Ellen could have dished up. As much as the sight of him all loved up makes me want to puke, it’s also almost heartwarming, despite the fact that I don’t have one to warm up.
Ace has had a hard few years. He willingly took on the responsibility of making sure the three of us didn’t starve to death while our mother checked out in favor of whatever high she could get her hands on.
He didn’t need to do what he did—he certainly didn’t need to get tangled up with the likes of Donny—but I understand why he felt it was his only option. We are—were—Heighters. You want to earn decent money in that hellhole, then there’s only a couple of places to get it, and Donny Lopez is the one with the worst reputation and the highest prices.
Ace deserves all the happiness after all of that. It’s the reason I did that deal with the devil to help get him cut loose. Donny was slowly sucking at Ace’s soul; he was going to ruin any chance at happiness Ace had with Remi, and I couldn’t sit back and watch it happen. I certainly couldn’t allow Bruce, Donny’s right-hand man, to do what was asked of him that night. The second Donny made the deal, I snapped his hand off. Anything to protect my brother.
Besides, it didn’t matter if I sold my soul. I didn’t have one to begin with. Although, that doesn’t mean I want to make it a regular thing with Donny. I was more than happy for it to be a one-time thing like he promised.
I should have known his word means absolutely fucking nothing.
“What are you waiting for?” James says, reminding me that I’m still standing here, watching them.
I lift my foot; my need to go in the opposite direction and just leave them to play happy family is strong, but when I move I find that it’s toward the table and the vacant seat.
I sit silently as five sets of eyes drill into me.
“What?” I bark, unhappy with their undivided attention.
“We just want to know if you plan on smashing the Bulls tomorrow night. They gave the Seahawks a hard game last season,” James says with a reassuring pat on the hand from Remi’s mom, Sarah.
“I dunno, maybe.”
“Wow, that’s some real team spirit you got going on there, Son.”
“Don’t,” I snap, looking up into his shocked eyes. Mine narrow in warning and he wisely shuts his mouth.
“Cole,” Ace warns, his voice deep as he stares at me.
I roll my eyes at the lot of them, accepting a plate of food from Ellen when she reappears with it before faffing around, making sure everyone has drinks.
It’s a fucking joke. All of it.
I might be hungry after two long practice sessions today, but one mouthful and I already know I can’t stomach it. Dropping my knife and fork so that it clatters loudly against James’ best plates, I push my chair out behind me and stand.
“Cole, what the hell are you doing?” Ace asks, his eyes wide, while Conner stares at me in disbelief.
“You guys want to sit here pretending that all is right under this roof? Then
be my fucking guests.”
With a quick shove to the backrest of the chair I was sitting on, it topples to the floor with a loud crash. It’s nowhere near what I need.
“Cole, wait,” a soft female voice says.
“Just leave him, Princess. There’s no point talking to him when he’s like this.