Shadows & Strings

Alexia POV

I love waking up to the fresh smell of spilled spirits in the morning. A medley of gin and vodka.

I usually get ready first. It's easier that way so I don't get late, so it means waking up much earlier than everyone else. But today, I'm skipping school. Half asleep, I go run the bath for my younger brother Pa, whilst the water runs I go to my brothers' bedroom. I can hear 12-year-old Nahsir whispering to his older brother. And he shuts him up and makes him swear not to tell me anything. I kick in the door with the force of a drunk dad. I barge inside and Kiaan bolts upright like he's being plucked from a nightmare, only to wake in another.

"I'm up," he exclaims, running a hand through disheveled yet silky hair.

"Saw an email on baba's laptop," I state calmly. "You skipping school now?"

"It's not your business," he throws back, trying to act nonchalant as he slumps back into his bed.

I saunter to the flank, feigning poise. I rip off his blanket and he lurches up but I smack my hand down on his chest, exerting firm pressure to pin him flat on the bed, my eyes boring into his punishingly.

"Slacking doesn't make you cool. It makes you a pitiful failure. And you're too brilliant to undermine your potential by hanging with a crew that will lead you nowhere but a prison cell or in the morgue."

His nostrils flare and his eyelids flicker, perturbed but avid.

"You are going somewhere in life. Start acting like it."

I release him. I snap my fingers at Nahsir. He bursts out of his covers to go and get ready. I return to the bathroom to stop the water, then to go to wake my youngest brother, Pa. I already ironed his clothes the night before, so all I have to do is bathe him thoroughly. Whilst he gets changed on his own. My big boy.

I get a start on breakfast in the compact kitchen with a ceiling mottled with mould—that I would have to clean again. And wooden cabinets that are chipping like the flaking bark of tree trunks. I prepare five plates. I leave the sausage to sizzle and I take a sojourn to the living room, mere steps away from the kitchen. I collect the clutter of empty bottles and I use one of them to prod him awake. He grunts but refuses to wake.

I throw away the bottles in the trash can, turn over the sausage and go back for round two, bracing myself. I am either going to face a giddy giant or a bloodthirsty beast. Best to prepare for both. I tap him awake again and shake him vigorously. He snatches my wrist and dread seizes a breath in my lungs. I don't let it show. I have to learn to master my emotions a long time ago. It's like he could smell fear and that riled him up even more like adrenaline.

So the best way to not feel fear is to not feel at all.

"You're going to be late."

He grunts again.

"Second warning," I remind. "Third, you get terminated. Please, get up. Breakfast is done, I just need you to get up."

He rises haphazardly from the couch, a tilt from collapse. I steady him. He takes my face and leans in, my insides shriveling from the stench laden on his breath. He is going to pummel me to a pulp. I am ready for it, but he does the opposite. He plants a kiss on my temple that feels like it lasts for an infinite moment, a wet thorn against my skin. A tear leaks from my eye and he staggers past me, fumbling his way back to his room.

I dish out the eggs, chicken sausage and bread for all of us and I put a cover over my father's plate. Nahsir and Pa gather at the round kitchen table. The three of us eat and Kiaan joins us shortly. He slaps the newspaper article on the center. My boyfriend and my best friend made the front cover with a beguiling headline.

"The prince and princess of Braidwood: a royal romance," he announces. He drops his volume. "Found this in the trash."

"Where it belongs," I say, with a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

"You broke up with him, or can I break him?"

I smile at the sentiment. "All you have to worry about is staying in school."

"Why?" He cheekily throws down his fork. "So I can be some lawyer or doctor or something?"

"No, more like an acclaimed director."

His eyes fly up.

I tear up a piece of bread. "I read your manuscripts."

"You went through my stuff?"

A frown strikes my face. "Boy, who you think cleans this house? Besides, I don't know why you hide it, you're crazy talented. But I guess you won't hear it from me unless it comes from someone that matters."

He nibbles on the sausage and says nothing. And for a long while, too.

"This is the part where you say. Nah, sis your opinion is the only one that matters."

He snorts, smiling to reveal his dimple. "Trust, your opinion is valid, but being blood means you have to tell me all that shit about having potential."

"First. Don't be cussing," I warn sternly. "Secondly, I don't say things unless they need to be said. Forget me then. The only person you need validation from is yourself. Your biggest obstacle is not the life you were born into. The only thing that can put that award in your hand one day is you. Small-minded people will try to tell you that your dreams are impossible. It's intimidating when you aim higher than what they know they could ever achieve. Hard work beats talent every time."

"Gee, thanks Uncle Iroh. Any other words of wisdom?"

"Yeah, go wash those dishes."

¬¬¬

Monday evening, when we should be having a movie marathon. I'm walking up the cobbled path leading to Kenji's front entrance. I knock on the door and Mr Takashi opens up. He is everything I wish my father was. He simply emanates warmth with a soul-soothing smile that makes the weight of the world just that much lighter.

"Alexia."

He welcomes me in with a polite side-hug and keeps his arm around my shoulders.

"I hope you are available for a certain, special surprise," he whispers conspiringly.

"Wouldn't dare miss it," I whisper back. "Where is Mrs Takashi?"

"Store, but Kenji is upstairs with Yuna."

"She's visiting already? But I thought it wasn't for another two weeks?"

He nods, wagging his brows of white steel wool. "It would look rather obvious if she came too close to the time."

"Touché."

He claps a hand on my back as I go onward without him. The interior of their home is made of clean lines, open spaces, a seamless flow between the living, dining, and kitchen. And incorporating built-in storage solutions, such as hidden cabinets and floor-to-ceiling shelves. I trot up upstairs, arriving in a pool of sunlight from the skylight above. On my way to Kenji's room, the incessant buzzing brings me to a stop. I check. An alarming amount of calls from Alister and pleadful texts from Amara. I ignore them.

My hand goes for the handle—the door is already ajar, but a sound makes me pause.

"Let me see."

I peek in the crack. Yuna springs from the bed to Kenji, who sits at his desk with a splay of three monitors. Kenji takes a heavy textbook to hide whatever he is hiding. And he rotates on the swivel chair to smile back at her innocently.

"See what?"

Determined, Yuna prances over. Kenji whips around in the chair. She grabs a notebook from under the textbook and plops down on his lap to peruse through the pages. I walk in without warning, elbowing my way inside to keep my hands in my pockets. Kenji glances at me, sending me an agitated look.

"What are we looking at?"

"A masterpiece."

She extends her arm to offer me the notepad. Kenji lurches to snatch it out of her hand.

"Show and tell is over."

Yuna stands up, her locks of sable-black swooping over her shoulders. Her dew-pond round eyes glitter with mirth as she smiles at me. She squeals and comes over to wrap me in a hug. She is so dainty I could flick her off like a fly, but because she's his family. I allow it, even though I don't hug her back, it doesn't make it any less awkward for her.

"It's been a long time."

I bob my brows in agreement.

"How's Braidwood been treating you?"

"As well as it can."

"Ever so chatty," she teases good-naturedly. "Kenny, didn't tell me we were going to have guests. So I'm going to go make some... brownies or cookies?"

"Brownies."

She shoots me a wink and exits the room.

I glance over my shoulder. "Forgot that she was so... excitable."

I look back at Kenji. My eyes dart down and they enlarge exponentially. Kenji glances down and his eyes widen comically. I burst into a laugh, clapping a hand over my mouth. Kenji rushes for a random pillow and uses it to cover his crotch before he pushes the door closed.

"You're sick."

"It's not my fault."

"She is your sister!"

"Half!"

I gape at him. "You say that as if it makes any difference." Revulsion roils in my stomach and the back of my hand presses against my mouth. "Kenny, kenny, kenny," I tsk in reproach.

"Shut up," he whispers harshly, speaking feverishly. "You didn't see anything. This didn't happen."

I yank my hand away. "You think I want to think about it? It's taking everything in me to not run downstairs and yell Kenny getting bricked because of his sister."

He hurls the pillow at my face with lethal precision, triggering another laugh. He shifts in the chair, rips off the decorative blue blanket from his double bed and conceals his lap. Saturated in shame, he swivels around to his face his computer and turns his back on me.

"I didn't call you here for this."

"No, but I think it should be addressed."

"Alex," he groans exasperatedly.

"Sweet home Alabama," I sing mockingly.

He spurts to his feet.

My smile vanishes. "Boy, I will break you like a twig. Sit your ass back down."

Kenji obeys grudgingly and fills his vacated seat. "Why'd you skip school?"

"So I wouldn't get caught up in a storm of whispers," I admit without a fight. "Not dealing with jeering glances, and Amara and Alister hounding me with apologies. By tomorrow, everyone would've moved on."

"Will you?"

"Your concern is misplaced." And it's all I say to conclude the matter. "What I want to know is who is Vanko, and what's his deal? I've seen him looming over Amara, and her cowering like a mouse. There's a deep history there."

He nods slowly in accord.

"Are you going to tell me or it's one of those—not my story to tell, kind of thing?"

"It is," he says, fiercely uncompromising. "But I will tell you because you've become like a sister to me and Amara."

"Yeah, I see how you react to your sisters. I want nothing to do with that."

He winces, closing his eyes for a fraught moment.

Unapologetic, I remain wordless until he is ready to continue.

"You have to vow not to tell anyone," he says with all solemnity. So serious, now I'm fully attentive. "And the only reason I am telling you is not to betray her confidence, but for accountability and for her wellbeing. I'm worried about her hero complex of wanting to the do the right thing all the time. It's going to put her in serious danger."

"How can the right thing be something dangerous?"

"When the other side has no right intentions," he answered grimly.

¬¬¬

Tuesday morning amid the shift change between classes. Students stalling in the hallways as they make their way to their next class or take a detour by retrieving whatever textbook they need. My eyes lock on Vanko like a targeting sequence. Hard to miss. He's talking to Brett Taylor and Nova is attached to him like another limb. I bulldoze through the crowd to get to him.

"Ey, Vanko."

Nova makes the mistake of sweeping in to impede me. "Can I help you?"

I grab her by the shoulders, jerking her around to slam her back into the lockers with a clatter. Brett whistles and stands aside in mock surrender with his hands up to his shoulders.

"If you know what's good for you." My eyes slice back to Brett warningly. "You'll stay out of my way."

I release her to square up with the devil's dog, glaring up at Vanko. Those beady, black eyes staring back at me with cold intrigue.

"I will say this only once. Stay away from Amara."

Vanko sheds a forbidding smile. "Just because you got a pussy. Doesn't mean I won't use it to put you in your place."

I snort a laugh. "Honey, I've dealt with men twice your size. Test me—" my head tilts to the side, chucking a look at Nova, "—and your little secretary will be scraping you off the walls."

I back away, letting myself be carried away by the current of students. Anger still thrumming in my blood because of all I know. There's only one place meant for guys like Vanko. I know that Amara can err on the people pleaser side of things. And that little miss self-righteous always-wants-to do-good, and can always find the good in the worst kind of bad. It's admirable until it's just stupid. After all the exposition gleaned from Kenji, I can't think of a sane reason on why Amara would want to let him in her life whilst basically giving him a full pardon.

What disturbs me more is what does he want with her now? From what I can tell, her life is valued at nothing to him. And even with that brief encounter and a glimpse of those soulless eyes. He is not the type to be plagued by guilt. I know the type of guys that find pleasure in other's pain and he is the epitome of that. So it is a mystery to Kenji and I alone as to what he wants with her, because Amara seems oblivious to that critical question.

Speaking of the angel, I see her in the distance. Talking to Alister.

My concern dissipates.