Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“Silas.” Mom folds her apron and gives me an admonishing look.
“What? I tripped.” I shrug my shoulders.
“Really?” She shakes her head. “I’m running errands. I’ll be back in two hours. Get your homework done. It’s Thursday night.”
I smile. Mom and I watch The Gilmore Girls on Thursday nights. I know it’s weird but I kinda love it even though I let on I’m doing it for her.
“Yes, Mom,” I exaggerate.
Mom leaves, and I dump my bag in my bedroom before going into the kitchen for that snack. I’m always hungry these days. When I see it’s chicken empanadas, I smile wide. They are my all-time favorite. I have a seat at the counter and pull the big plate of them over, take three from the pile and dig in while I watch TV.
Ethan hasn’t eaten yet or there’d be a dirty dish and a ring of crumbs he’d leave for Mom to clean up. After I finish my third one, I take a fourth, so he only has two left. I’d eat them all, but then Mom would get in trouble, not me, and I don’t want that.
When I’m finished, I switch off the TV, wash my dish and wipe down my place at the counter before going to do my homework because there’s nothing else to do anyway. I stop again at those floor-to-ceiling windows.
One day, this is going to be mine. This view. A penthouse like this one. One day, I’m going to have as much as the Foxes. More. And I’ll get my mom out of here so I can take care of her like she deserves to be taken care of. Not stepped on like she’s a doormat.
I hate the Foxes. I hate all three of them.
Bitterness settles in my gut. It’s a new sensation and one I don’t particularly like. I push the thought away and turn to head to our apartment, but a sound from down the hall where the primary bedroom is catches my attention. I assume it’s the little shit and walk down there to see what he’s up to. His bedroom is down the other corridor.
I’m careful not to make a sound, planning on scaring him, and when I get to the double doors that lead to Sly and Mira’s suite, I see they’re not fully closed. I nudge one a little wider and I’m right. Ethan’s right there doing something, looking at something on the nightstand. For a second, I wonder if it’s the magazines Sly keeps under his mattress. Yes, I’ve seen them. There is a part of me that thinks Ethan is too young to see anything like that, but I remind myself who we’re talking about here. He’s a piece of shit like his dad. I’m surprised he doesn’t hear me but then I see his Walkman and realize he’s got his headphones in because he does some idiotic dance move.
I roll my eyes and think how I will relish making him jump when a sound from the front of the house startles me. My heartbeat picks up when I hear Mr. Fox’s voice, and I quickly dive into the linen closet just outside their bedroom. I’ve been caught down here before when I wasn’t even doing anything, and I couldn’t sit for three days.
Sullivan Fox is an asshole, if I haven’t mentioned it.
Ethan clearly hasn’t realized his father is home but, as Fox’s footsteps bring him closer to his bedroom, I don’t feel anything but anxiety for the kid because it’s too late for him to run. Maybe he can hide but he’d have to hear him and he’s stupid enough to go into that room neither of us is allowed in with music blaring in his ears. Fucking idiot.
Fox’s voice is just outside the closet now, and I hear him tell whoever he’s talking to that he has to go. I press my back to the wall, closing my eyes like that will somehow make me invisible because if Fox finds me, I’m done for.
But it’s not me he finds.
Adrenaline flushes my system and blood pounds my ears when I hear the door slam against the wall.
“Boy!” Fox calls out in that voice that makes me jump. I can just imagine Ethan hitting the fucking ceiling. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he roars, and I hear Ethan’s high-pitched voice as he blubbers his response, very clearly surprised by his father’s early return home.
“Dad. I… Uh… I…”
“What the fuck… Are you fucking stealing from me? Show me what’s in your hand! Now!”
“Dad, I wasn’t stealing it. I just… I wanted...” I open the door a crack, ready to sneak away while Fox is distracted, but I catch a glimpse into the room and stop because Fox has Ethan by the collar and Ethan’s face is bright red. Only the tips of his toes are touching the floor. “I was going to try it on. That’s all, Dad. You said one day it would be mine and—”