Page 32 of Sin Bin Bully

Kim

Constantly being alone is not good for my mind.

I can't sleep. The luxurious bed in this gilded cage feels like it's swallowing me whole. And I know getting up and pacing won't help.

I'm used to studying, to working, to doingsomething. But above that, there's one thing that has started to haunt me over the last few days as it becomes more and more clear to me that I am not going anywhere.

My mind races, filled with images of my siblings. Are they okay? Do they even know I'm gone?

Zander's face flashes before me. At sixteen, he's still so young. Who's making sure he goes to school? Is Avery looking out for him? God, I hope they're not getting mixed up in Nathan's mess.

I toss and turn, the silk sheets tangling around my legs. Nathan. That's a whole other worry. Is he still dealing? Has he gotten himself arrested? Or worse?

The pit in my stomach grows deeper with each passing day. I should be there, protecting them, guiding them. Instead, I'm trapped here in this twisted fairy tale.

Sam's noticed my distraction. His piercing gray eyes follow me as I pick at my food during our forced meals together.

"What's on your mind, little dancer?" he asks, voice dripping with false concern.

I want to scream at him. Tell him about the family he's torn me away from. But I can't. I won't give him that power over them too.

So I force a smile, shrug it off. "Nothing important."

But it eats at me. Every luxury he showers me with feels like a slap in the face. My siblings could be struggling to eat, and here I am surrounded by more food than I could ever want. And no way to help them.

It's been ingrained in me for so long to watch out for them as the oldest. And the guilt at moving out was enough, but now? Now, I feel like I'm being eaten alive with nothing else on my mind or to occupy my time.

I pace the room at night, my mind conjuring worst-case scenarios. Braden getting into fights. Avery dropping out of school. Zander following Nathan's footsteps into the drug trade.

The worry gnaws at me, constant and unrelenting. It's the one thing Sam can't control, can't buy off. And in a twisted way, I cling to it. It's the last piece of my real life, my real family, that I have left.

But one morning I finally snap. The clinking of silverware against fine china echoes through the cavernous dining room as I push my food around the plate. My stomach churns, not from hunger, but from the gnawing worry that's been eating at me for weeks.

Kelsey, ever-present, hovers nearby just outside the room, but I can feel her eyes on me. Sam sits at the head of the table,his broad shoulders filling out his tailored shirt as he scrolls through his phone.

I can't take it anymore. The words burst out of me like water from a broken dam. "Sam, I need a phone."

His steel-gray eyes snap up, locking onto mine. A muscle in his jaw ticks. Slowly, he sets his things down, leveling me with a look. "What was that?"

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. "Please, I need to call my siblings. I haven't spoken to them in weeks. I don't even know if they're okay."

Keeping his eyes on me, Sam shifts, pulling his phone out and setting it on the table. Crossing his arms, he leans back in his chair. His fingers drum against the polished wood. "And why should I care about your family?"

The casual cruelty in his voice makes my blood boil. I clench my fists under the table, nails digging into my palms.

When did I start thinking this psychopath cared about me? Because of his "gifts?"

I'm not sure why, can't pinpoint when I stopped seeing him so much as my enemy, but I thought if I begged him, if he realized I cared, he would care. But I have to remind myself the kind of person he is.

Steeling myself, I try again. "Because they're all I have left. They're just kids, Sam. Zander's only sixteen. What if something's happened to them?"

A flicker of something—curiosity? interest?—passes over Sam's face. He leans forward, elbows on the table. "Tell me about them."

I blink, caught off guard by his sudden interest. "I... There's four of them. Nathan's twenty-one, Braden's twenty, Avery's seventeen, and Zander's sixteen. Our parents are gone. And the youngest two are with my grandmother, but she can't really care for them."

Sam's eyes narrow, calculating. "And you think they can't survive without you?"

"It's not about surviving," I snap, frustration bubbling up. "It's about knowing they're safe. That they're not..." I trail off, the image of Nathan's eerie smile flashing through my mind.