go.”
“No, not yet,” Kim said, sidestepping her brother’s outstretched hand. “You threw me to the fucking wolves here, Nunz. In a decade, when I’ve got bruises on my body and kids terrified of their own father, you still won’t care, will you?”
Nunz didn’t answer and Kim didn’t wait around to see if he ever would.
In the car, Kim cranked the stereo up as loud as it would go. Her brother slid into the passenger seat silently. Reversing the car out of the driveway, Kim let the tires peel across pavement. She needed to get away from that man and his awfulness as quickly as she possibly could.
Cody reached over and turned the volume down. “Kim—”
“Don’t talk to me right now,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Okay, but I need you to know something.”
“Please don’t defend that man.”
“I won’t.”
“What is it, then?”
“Franco,” Cody said quietly. “I know you think I don’t care, but that’s not true. I have a lot of shit to consider, especially where I need to go. That’s up, Kimberlynn. I want to go up. But Franco … If he ever lays a hand on you, I’ll kill him.”
Strangely, despite how distant the siblings were, Kim believed him.
• • •
Cody didn’t stay by Kim’s side once they arrived at Franco’s. He followed the voices coming from the upstairs while Kim pulled off her sneakers and hung up her coat. The two men who always followed behind walked into the house right after Kim and Cody.
Ben and Lucas, the two men Franco appointed to keep an eye on Kim, passed by her in the foyer without a word. Not that she minded, really. The less attention either of those men paid to her, the happier she was.
The kitchen was the one place in Franco’s home where Kim felt comfortable. Franco couldn’t cook at all. He would rather shoot his foot than attempt to make a meal. Kim, on the other hand, found cooking to be lethargic.
Franco allowed Kim some breathing room from his constant badgering and control in the kitchen. There, he found no faults in the things she did. Complaints were suddenly non-existent. When she cooked, he gladly shut up and ate the food.
Kim wasn’t entirely sure if the fact that she could cook helped her case with Franco or hindered it. Considering when she did make a meal large enough to feed every person in the house, she was doing exactly what he wanted. Being the perfect little housewife, pretty and quiet on his arm, and never questioning his authority.
Even so, it got Franco off her back. Kim was willing to use that to her advantage. Setting her messenger bag to the island countertop, Kim pulled out her laptop and turned it on. Music rolled through the space. It kept the possibility of her overhearing something upstairs away.
Kim collected things from the cupboards, pantry, and fridge to get a start on an old favorite of her family’s. It was a casserole dish made up of spaghetti pasta, freshly cut tomatoes, onions, mushrooms, and celery, some tomato paste, a can or two of sauce, ground hamburger mixed with spices, and shredded cheese spread over the top. It would feed whoever was around for the night, anyway. Nobody said it had to be particularly healthy.
Ground hamburger browned in a pan on the stove while Kim went to work chopping and dicing the other ingredients. She didn’t notice the time passing until the oven beeped to signal it was preheated. She shoved the readied casserole dish inside, shut the oven door, and leaned back to the counter with a sigh.
There were some worksheets for one of her classes in her messenger bag, but Kim knew better than to drag schoolwork out while she was at Franco’s. It would likely lead them to another argument about college. Kim didn’t want to go there tonight. She just wanted to eat, find out if Franco needed her for the weekend, and then get the hell back to her dorm.
Lost in her thoughts, Kim didn’t hear the set of voices getting closer to the kitchen until they were outside
“No, not yet,” Kim said, sidestepping her brother’s outstretched hand. “You threw me to the fucking wolves here, Nunz. In a decade, when I’ve got bruises on my body and kids terrified of their own father, you still won’t care, will you?”
Nunz didn’t answer and Kim didn’t wait around to see if he ever would.
In the car, Kim cranked the stereo up as loud as it would go. Her brother slid into the passenger seat silently. Reversing the car out of the driveway, Kim let the tires peel across pavement. She needed to get away from that man and his awfulness as quickly as she possibly could.
Cody reached over and turned the volume down. “Kim—”
“Don’t talk to me right now,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Okay, but I need you to know something.”
“Please don’t defend that man.”
“I won’t.”
“What is it, then?”
“Franco,” Cody said quietly. “I know you think I don’t care, but that’s not true. I have a lot of shit to consider, especially where I need to go. That’s up, Kimberlynn. I want to go up. But Franco … If he ever lays a hand on you, I’ll kill him.”
Strangely, despite how distant the siblings were, Kim believed him.
• • •
Cody didn’t stay by Kim’s side once they arrived at Franco’s. He followed the voices coming from the upstairs while Kim pulled off her sneakers and hung up her coat. The two men who always followed behind walked into the house right after Kim and Cody.
Ben and Lucas, the two men Franco appointed to keep an eye on Kim, passed by her in the foyer without a word. Not that she minded, really. The less attention either of those men paid to her, the happier she was.
The kitchen was the one place in Franco’s home where Kim felt comfortable. Franco couldn’t cook at all. He would rather shoot his foot than attempt to make a meal. Kim, on the other hand, found cooking to be lethargic.
Franco allowed Kim some breathing room from his constant badgering and control in the kitchen. There, he found no faults in the things she did. Complaints were suddenly non-existent. When she cooked, he gladly shut up and ate the food.
Kim wasn’t entirely sure if the fact that she could cook helped her case with Franco or hindered it. Considering when she did make a meal large enough to feed every person in the house, she was doing exactly what he wanted. Being the perfect little housewife, pretty and quiet on his arm, and never questioning his authority.
Even so, it got Franco off her back. Kim was willing to use that to her advantage. Setting her messenger bag to the island countertop, Kim pulled out her laptop and turned it on. Music rolled through the space. It kept the possibility of her overhearing something upstairs away.
Kim collected things from the cupboards, pantry, and fridge to get a start on an old favorite of her family’s. It was a casserole dish made up of spaghetti pasta, freshly cut tomatoes, onions, mushrooms, and celery, some tomato paste, a can or two of sauce, ground hamburger mixed with spices, and shredded cheese spread over the top. It would feed whoever was around for the night, anyway. Nobody said it had to be particularly healthy.
Ground hamburger browned in a pan on the stove while Kim went to work chopping and dicing the other ingredients. She didn’t notice the time passing until the oven beeped to signal it was preheated. She shoved the readied casserole dish inside, shut the oven door, and leaned back to the counter with a sigh.
There were some worksheets for one of her classes in her messenger bag, but Kim knew better than to drag schoolwork out while she was at Franco’s. It would likely lead them to another argument about college. Kim didn’t want to go there tonight. She just wanted to eat, find out if Franco needed her for the weekend, and then get the hell back to her dorm.
Lost in her thoughts, Kim didn’t hear the set of voices getting closer to the kitchen until they were outside
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