Chapter 3 - Sharks(ii)

𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐞

The whole room seemed to hold its breath as the words fell out of my mouth, sharp and sudden.

My aunt recovered quickly, her mouth twisting into a sneer. "Said the murderer."

Ryder scoffed, amused.

Her retort hit like a freight train. My shoulders slumped instantly. I'd forgotten just how much energy it took to deal with these people. "What do you want, Aunt Agatha?"

Ryder sat up, the odor of burnt tobacco making my stomach turn.

My aunt's dark eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms. "Why can't we visit? It's been three years. Are we not family anymore? You didn't even offer your own family tickets to your games. So I figured we'd drop in."

I blinked slowly, cradling the urn closer to my chest. "I'm not a hotel. You should have called, messaged me—hell, sent a messenger pigeon."

"You're not five stars either," Ryder muttered, puffing out smoke. He glanced around my studio apartment like it was an insult to him.

"You still live with your aunt." It wasn't a retort, just a statement. A fact he didn't like—which was enough for him to shut up. For now.

"Ryder's right," my uncle chimed in, wrinkling his nose. His rheumy, eyes found mine. "This place is a fucking dump."

My eye twitched, but he wasn't worth the trouble. I turned to my aunt again. "What are you here for? I already sent the $2,000 for this month."

"So you've lumped your family into a monthly subscription plan?"

"Did you give me a choice?"

She gasped dramatically. "Are you saying I forced you? I didn't know you saw us as a burden."

When I didn't fall for the bait, her voice turned icy. "Your mother would be disgusted."

Another hit. But I refused to show it. "After the stunt you pulled with her funeral arrangements, that's rich coming from you."

"You don't know anything—" my uncle growled.

What the hell was I doing? I caught myself and pinched the bridge of my nose, inhaling deeply. Then I turned around and placed my mother's urn in its rightful place.

They all watched me like I was a circus animal as I retrieved my wallet. I pulled out a two-hundred-dollar bill and offered it to my aunt. "You should be able to find an inn for the night. I need my space."

They exchanged looks—even the twins. My aunt glanced at the money like it had shit on it. "Is that all you're giving us? Where's the rest?"

I raised a brow. "The rest?"

The couch behind me creaked as Ryder got up. My skin prickled when I felt his heavy hands on my shoulders. His voice was cold, menacing. "Don't play dumb."

Aunt Agatha stepped closer, her eyes scanning me. She reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear, and I felt my skin crawl. "We know about the money." She smiled, but those dark eyes didn't soften.

Her husband's stench wafted through the air as he rose, stepping beside her—caging me in. "One million dollars," he said aloud.

I shrugged Ryder's hand off my shoulder and put some space between us.

"One million dollars," my uncle repeated, dragging the words out. His eyes gleamed with greed.

"It's all over the news. Who would've thought that a girl throwing a ball around could bring so much money into the family?" Aunt Agatha gushed, but her tone was condescending.

"Pretty sure the coach helped her out for something in return. Girls don't get that far in sports without opening their legs," Ryder added.

My eyes narrowed. Their words bit deep, but I refused to react.

"You owe us far more than the measly $2k you send monthly. What exactly are you planning to do with that sum? That comes with obligations. That's how family works."

"Pretty sure I've never been family. And what exactly do I owe any of you?"

"You killed—"

"I killed my mother. I let her get hit for my miserable life. I killed your ATM machine."

"She was my only sister," she countered.

"Yet she worked like a dog day and night while you did nothing but be a fucking parasite."

I knew the slap was coming. But I let her hit me. And I watched her face fall when I didn't flinch. "Take the money and get out." My voice was level, not raised.

No one spoke or moved. But my ears twitched when I heard footsteps coming from the only other room in my studio apartment.

I turned toward the sound slowly, already knowing who it was.

Ivy.

And there she stood, leaning against the doorframe like she belonged there. Like this was her apartment, as if I hadn't clawed my way out of the gutter she helped dig.

My heart lurched the moment my gaze dropped to the swell beneath her oversized hoodie. A bump. Large and unmistakable.

My stomach twisted. That numbing, soul-puncturing awareness that life had just delivered another gut punch—because not only had he cheated on me...

Ivy sauntered over, arms cradling her belly, face smug. "Oh, you owe us more than you could ever believe," she said, slow and syrupy.

My lips parted, but nothing came out.

"I tried to call," she added with mock sadness. "You blocked me. Again. That really hurt, you know? But I guess grief does that to people. Or was it guilt?"

My voice scraped its way up from my throat. "What... is that?" I already knew the answer, but I needed the confirmation.

She beamed. "This?" She rubbed the bump like it was a talisman. "This is Atlas's baby."

I think I forgot how to breathe. The promise ring made my finger to go numb.

"Yup," she continued. "Your darling Atlas. The one you exposed me to. The one you vouched for. The one who ran the moment he found out I was pregnant." Her face turned brittle. "Left me to rot. But now you have money, and you think you can go scot-free without taking responsibility?"

I wasn't sure how I was still standing. I could still hear them moaning, the bed creaking when I peeked into his room. Even now, I could feel my soul fracture.

Atlas might as well have tossed my heart into a meat shredder.

Ivy walked past me, facing the rest of them. "I told you she'd see reason. She's all bark, no bite."

"Sweet!" someone said. Maybe Ryder, maybe Gerald. My ears were still ringing.

"The shop will clear the transfer by Friday," Aunt Agatha said briskly. "We'll split it clean. Twenty-five each."

"Wait, wait," Ivy interrupted, twirling a strand of hair. "We can't not give her anything. She's dramatic. People will ask questions."

"True," Uncle Gerald agreed. "She might throw a tantrum. Or worse, start talking to the press."

"Fine," Agatha sighed like it was a chore. "Ten percent. She can keep ten."

"Isn't that much?" Ivy grumbled, glancing at me. "You know I have a little one coming. Why not eight?"

"No, but I think we should raise the upkeep to $3k."

They all hummed in agreement. My body stayed still, but my mind curled in on itself.

Ten percent. Of my money. Like I was a pet they'd agreed to feed.

I felt hollow. Gutted. Like my soul had been pawned off in pieces.

When I opened my mouth and finally found my tongue, it was sharp laughter that bubbled out, it sounded unhinged. 

They all turned. Ivy flinched.

I clutched my sides as the laugh tore out of me. 

"What's so fucking funny?" Ivy demanded.

"You," I wheezed. "I mean, you, Ivy."

She stiffened.

"Oh, honey." I wiped a fake tear. "You slept with my boyfriend. Got knocked up. Sabotaged your own sister just to end up—wait for it—abandoned."

Her nostrils flared. "He didn't abandon me."

"Right," I snorted. "He just vanished. Like your common sense."

"Watch your fucking mouth, girl!" my aunt snarled.

My eyes narrowed on her. "No," I said, voice low, razor-sharp. "You watch yours. You think because I kept quiet, I was dense? Nah. I was trying to be decent for my mother's sake. So now I'm going to make myself exponentially clear. Never in your miserable lives will you touch my money."

The silence landed like an anvil.

"What?" Ivy shrieked. "You can't do that to me. It's your fault I'm like this—"

"You're pathetic," I cut her off.

Her mouth gaped open, but I simply turned to the rest of them. "Get out."

"You can't just kick us out—" Ryder's voice deepened.

"Losers," I cut him off. "You heard me. Get out."

A scream startled everyone. Ivy. Of course.

"I'll tell them!" she yelled in my face.

This time, I was genuinely surprised. "What?"

"I know what you've been hiding. I have proof."

Then it clicked. Why she'd been in my room for so long.

Her lips curled into a smirk. "Just share the money and your secret is safe with me."

"Fuck off." I spat. 

Ivy's face crumbled before she shoved her hand into her hoodie pocket and retrieved the picture that stayed locked in a box for a reason. She flipped it. Golden eyes beneath thick brows, dark hair that framed a tan face. The face of my nightmares. The goal of all of this.

Gasps ripped out of their throats.

"You can't be serious," my aunt gasped. "You kept a picture of... him?"

It was sudden. A whisper in the wind.

Ryder swung for my face with a closed fist, with enough force to cave in my skull.

Yet time seemed to slow. The inside of my wrist burned. My ears picked up the sound of all their beating hearts. My hand shot out in an instant, wrapping around his fist. What came next happened in a single fluid motion. I ducked, twisted, then stepped forward before hurling him into the wall at full strength.

The moment he hit with a thud, pictures falling onto his head, my eyes widened.

I twisted my arm. My eyes darted to the crescent tattoo. My heart launched against my ribs. It was glowing silver.

My head snapped up when someone let out a piercing wail. Of course, it was Ivy.

Her finger pointed at my face. "Your eyes! Your eyes are red. They're glowing!" she shrieked, taking a step back. The others followed suit. Even Ryder scrambled away from me.

"What the hell are you?" my aunt asked, backing away.

Like hell I knew.

They scattered like roaches. Chairs scraping, furniture clattering and someone knocked over the flower vase and water pooled beneath the shattered glass. Even Ryder limped to the door.

I just stood there, heart rattling.

Ivy fumbled with the door, her fingers shaking. She was crying. Big wet tears dragged mascara down her cheeks. Her hand landed on the knob, twisting and swinging it open. 

Then she froze.

But it wasn't hesitation. It was terror that contorted her features. 

Ryder went corpse-white. His eyes bulged.

I blinked. "What now?"

Ivy took a full step back. Her knees knocked.

That's when I saw it. The gun, its long, dark barrel pressed against her temple.

Behind her stood five men. All armed. They were dressed in black. All in tactical boots, gloved hands and empty eyes.

The man in front had a scar that ran from his left brow across his eye and down to his jaw.

He smiled, just slightly.

"Where is my money, Jameson?"