Page 69 of Boys Who Hunt
“Shopping.”
“Shopping for what?” Mavis asks.
He ignores her and pulls his phone from his pocket. “Mom called. Apparently, we were supposed to be there tonight for dinner with the whole family. She sounded pretty pissed we weren’t there.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh shit. I forgot.” She immediately runs down a flight of stairs.
“Ugh,” I grumble.
“Upset you can’t have another fucking date night with my sister?” Silas growls.
“That’s not—no.”
God, I fucking hate when he brings that up.
“That was once.Once. And I’m over it. Forever.”
He crosses his arms, smiling smugly. “Oh really?”
“We have a far more interesting plaything,” I say, grinning.
A spark of rage flashes through his eyes. “I already fucked with her.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t, too,” I retort.
“Whatever.” He shrugs. “I’m off. Mom and Dad are probably gonna kill me.”
“Is that why you were looking at the weapons? To defend yourself when they come for you?” I joke.
“No.” He sucks in a breath. “Because I need a release after tonight. Are you with me?” he asks.
I nod, licking my lips at the prospect. “Fucking bet on it.”
“I’ll call you when I’m done.” He grins at me as he passes by. “Bring the machete.”
CHAPTER 18
Silas
“Finally,I cooked this new recipe, and none of y’all had the balls to actually show up!” Mom throws the leftover sludge she “baked” in the oven on the dinner table, the rancid smell nearly making me throw up on the spot.
“Mom …” Xavier begins.
“No, I want none of it! I tried my best, okay? At least you could’ve tried it. Did any of you even remember we had a date planned?”
She looks at Xavier, Aspen, Melody, Mavis, and me like we’re her long-lost children she hasn’t seen in years even though it’s been maybe two weeks tops.
“Sorry, Mom,” Aspen says. “It just … slipped my mind.” She adds a chuckle for good measure.
“I don’t think any of us did it on purpose.” Mavis smiles.
Mom throws her purple hair over her shoulder and tilts her head. “Really?”
“Penelope, please give those kids a break. They’re doing their best at school,” Alistair, one of my mom’s boyfriends, says as he walks in with tousled hair and a certain swagger in his step. His knuckles and the sides of his hands are still covered in pencil streaks from all the drawing he’s done today for his comic book.
He's not my dad, but my mom decided to raise us half siblings together. Only Mavis is my actual sister.
“Dad, don’t go easy on them,” Melody jests, poking me with her elbow.