3
QUINTON
As usual, I’m wide awake by four o’clock even though I didn’t fall asleep until well after midnight. Sleeping a few hours a night isn’t abnormal for me. Ever since I can remember, I’ve had a hard time falling asleep. The events of the past year have only intensified my insomnia.
Rolling out of bed, I ignore the tired feeling lingering at the back of my mind and get dressed in a pair of gym shorts and a black hoodie.
I quietly walk out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fully stocked fridge. Ren is a light sleeper. I don’t want to wake him because if I do, he’ll follow me, and I don’t need him tailing me everywhere I go.
On silent feet, I leave the small apartment without incident and find my way to the in-house gym. I love mornings because at this hour, everyone is still asleep, and I don’t have to worry about anyone watching me or force myself to put a mask on to cover up the pain. I can just be me.
The sound of my Nikes bounces off the walls of the corridor. Ahead, a single girl who keeps her head low enough that I can’t see her face scurries past me, turning into one of the rooms on the left.
The building houses all three hundred students attending this school. Guys and girls are not separated here by dorms. I guess when the parents are a bunch of criminals, the school administration doesn’t worry about the students’ virtues. Not that separation would stop sex regardless. I suppose it might help, though.
I turn the corner at the end of the corridor and locate the gym. Using my key card, I wait for the door to open automatically, and I step inside. I half expect to find someone as dedicated to their fitness as me at this hour but am pleasantly surprised to find the space unoccupied.
Wasting no time, I hop on a treadmill and start my four-mile run. I use the time to clear my head and focus on my tasks for the day. Here, the tasks are limited to attending classes, but after that, who knows what could happen. I’m only here to get away from my father, not to train, or because I need knowledge on what my parents do or who they are. This place is more or less a babysitter for me until I decide I’m ready to face what happened. And honestly, I’m not fucking sure when that will be.
By the time I’m finished with my run, beads of sweat are dripping down my face.
My heartbeat is pulsing in my ears, and the burning in my muscles is invigorating. Running gives me a high that carries me through the day. I move on from running and onto weights and then pull-ups. My muscles are burning, and I feel rejuvenated as I pull my shirt off and use it to wipe away the sweat from my face.
I check my phone and realize I’ve been gone for two hours. I’m sure Ren could figure out where I’d run off to if he wakes up, so I’m not in a hurry to get back to the room.
Chugging the rest of my water, I toss the bottle in the garbage and leave the gym.
I’ve studied the map, but the best way to get acquainted with your surroundings is to become familiar with them, which means walking every inch of this place.
The long corridor is mostly empty except for a few people who keep their heads low. I bet it’s because they don’t want to start trouble, or they want to go unnoticed by me. Little do they know, I notice everything and everyone. Ducking your head and pretending you don’t exist isn’t going to protect you. Let’s be honest: people always go for the quiet ones first.
My steps come to a screeching halt when I reach the last door at the end of the hallway. Large red letters are painted into the wood, spelling out the word: RAT. It doesn’t even take me a fraction of a second to figure out who resides inside that room.
Aspen Mather.
The thought of her name makes me clench my fists, and in the back of my mind, a memory sprouts.
All eyes are on us as we enter the large banquet hall. As always, when my father enters a crowd, people move out of the way, making room for us to walk through without anyone being too close. He’s like a king to all these people.
Like a flock of birds, my sister and I trail a step behind him on either side and behind us are two more guards. I glance over at Adela, who is walking with her head slightly bowed, her eyes on the ground, just like she is supposed to do when we’re in public.
Very few people know that my sisters have my father wrapped around their little fingers, and when we are in the safety of our home, they are anything but meek and obedient. This is for show and nothing more.
As the head of the Rossi empire, my father has a certain image to uphold, one that shows no mercy. He is known to be ruthless and cruel—which he is with his enemies—but never with his wife and children. Showing in public that he has a soft spot for his daughters would be seen by many as a weakness because, in our world, women are still only seen as a means to an end.
Maybe that will change in our generation, but in my father’s reign, we have to play by the rules of the kingdom.
“Xander, it’s good to see you, old friend.” A man I don’t know steps up to greet us.
“Clyde, it’s been a few years.” My father stops to shake the man’s hand, and I take my place right next to him, my sister on the other side. Someday, this will be us, shaking hands, making deals, and spilling blood.
“You remember my son, Quinton,” he introduces me, but not Adela.
“Of course, yes.” He gives me a nod, swallowing as he looks at me. I’m only sixteen, but I’m already taller than most people here. “I brought my daughter as well. Aspen, say hello to my friend, Xander.”
A small figure pops out from behind the man. She’s so tiny. I didn’t even see her standing behind her father until she stepped around.
“Hi,” she greets my father so quietly, I almost don’t hear her at all. A shy, almost scared smile appears on her glossy lips.