Black Thorns: Prologue
Black Thorns: A Dark New Adult Romance (Thorns Duet Book 2)
The weak are meat. The strong eat.
Mom bought a painting with that proverb inked in bold Kanji characters.
I donât think she really understands what those words mean. She probably thought it was pretty and fit our houseâs decor and decided to buy it.
Mommy is that way. She likes things super-fast, then hates them just as fast. And sheâs not very good at Japanese, but Daddy doesnât like me to say that in front of her.
Heâs a superhero, my daddy, and superheroes donât like to make other people feel bad.
But like all superheroes, heâs busy all the time. Mommy and Daddy work hard so I can eat and study with my friends.
Although I donât really have friends. They call me âBlondieâ in a weird English accent because I have light hair and green eyes like a âfreak.â
I asked Daddy why I donât have Asian eyes and black hair like everyone else, and he told me itâs because Iâm American, not Japanese. But I was born in Tokyo and that still doesnât make me Asian?
Thatâs stupid. I should look like them so no one will make fun of me.
Or ignore me.
Mommy says that when they have money, theyâll transfer me to an international school where there are foreigners like me. But I just want to have fun with everyone in my class.
They look at me funny when Mommy arrives to pick me up in the middle of the day.
I usually go home last. Today, Iâm leaving early.
My pretty teacher, Satomi Sensei, takes my small hand in hers. She has short hair and a soft smile like the angels from my bedtime stories.
Sensei guides me to the door and everyone murmurs about the âBlondieâ whoâs ditching.
Iâm not ditching.
âEveryone stay quiet, now.â Sensei stares over her shoulder at them and speaks in Japanese. âSebastian-kun is meeting his mother. Okay?â
âOkay!â they echo.
âDonât worry about them.â She smiles at me.
âOkay,â I murmur in Japanese and stare at my feet.
Because I speak both English and Japanese, sometimes it takes longer to figure out what I should be saying, so I just stay silent.
Sensei guides me through the door of the classroom, where my mom is pacing the hallway.
âIs everything all right, Mrs. Weaver?â Sensei asks her.
Mommy stops pacing and smiles. âEverything is great. We just miss Sebastian so much and want to have lunch together.â
Her golden blonde hair falls down her back and always gets everyoneâs attention whenever weâre in public. That and her name, Julia.
She pulls me from Senseiâs side and wraps her clammy hand around mine.
I donât get to wave as we hurry down the corridor. Her heels make so much noise in the empty hallway of the school. She bows in greeting at the principal and one of the teachers and I do so as well.
As soon as weâre out of view, her smile drops and her lower lip trembles. She looks like the characters in anime before they cry. Like Gon from Hunter X Hunter when he couldnât find his father.
âI still have class, Mommy,â I say in English.
She doesnât like me to talk in Japanese at home, even though Daddy is fine with it.
âNot today, sweetie.â She ruffles my hair, but itâs stiff and hurts.
âBut Sensei doesnât like us to be absent.â
âSheâll forgive you this time.â She ushers me to the back seat of our car.
My eyes light up when I see whoâs in the driverâs seat. âDaddy!â
âHey, champ.â He turns around and grins at me.
My daddy, Nicholas Weaver, is my best friend. When I told him that I donât have friends at school, he said heâd be my temporary best buddy until I find others. But heâll always hold the number one spot.
He reaches a fist in my direction and I throw my yellow bag to the side so I can bump it, giggling as Mom fusses with my seatbelt.
Itâs then I notice that thereâs something beside me.
A painting.
The painting with the bold Kanji letters on it that should be in our living room.
I tilt my head to the side and read it again, out loud, in Japanese, âTheâ¦weakâ¦a-areâ¦meat. The s-strongâ¦eat.â
âGood boy!â Daddy exclaims from the front seat. âYour Kanji is getting better, Bastian.â
âIâm second in my class!â
âThatâs my boy.â He grins, but itâs strained, just like how Mommy patted my head earlier.
After making sure Iâm strapped securely in my seat, she gets in the front and Daddy drives away from my school.
âWhy is the painting here?â I frown.
âItâs a family legacy, Bastian.â Mom watches the side-view mirror, seeming distracted. âIt needed to come with us.â
âBut it shouldnât be in the car.â
âItâll be where we want it. Okay, sweetie?â
âOkay. Where are we going?â
âSomewhere new.â Dad smiles at me through the rearview mirror.
âBut I donât want somewhere new. I want to be with Sensei.â
âStop being a brat, Sebastian!â Mom snaps in an impatient tone.
âIâm not a brat.â I pout.
âNo, youâre not.â Daddy gives her a look, then grins at me. âYouâre our good boy.â
âBut Mommy called me a brat.â
âShe doesnât mean it. Right, Julia?â
Mom sighs, then turns around and gives me an open juice box. âYouâre not, sweetie. Iâm sorry.â
âThatâs okay, Mommy.â I snatch the bottle of juice and slurp while swinging my legs, bumping against Mommyâs seat.
âYouâll have friends in the place weâll go to, champ.â
I nearly choke on my juice as my eyes bug out. When I speak, I draw the word out, âReally?â
âReally. Weâll all start anew. What do you think?â
âOkay!â I bounce in my seat, rocking back and forth.
Mom puts on anime soundtracks and I sing along with them while I drink from my juice.
Sometimes, Daddy sings with me and I giggle because his Japanese is so funny. Momâs, too. I think itâs because theyâre from America and learned Japanese when they were older, unlike me.
I donât know America. Daddy said I donât need to, because weâre never going there.
We drive for a long time, passing many people and tall buildings that look like ghosts. After a while, Iâm tired of singing.
I think I fall asleep, because when I wake up, Daddy and Mommy are talking quietly, like they usually do when they donât want me to know âadultâ stuff.
But Iâm not so little anymore. Iâm a big boy and I wanna know grownup stuff, too.
So I peek through my half-closed eyes and pretend Iâm still asleep.
Mom is turned in her seat and faces Daddy while he focuses on the road. Beads of sweat cover her forehead and the hairline of her bright-like-the-sun locks. If she gets sweat on her hair, sheâll probably tell us sheâs having a âbad hair dayâ later.
Her shaky fingers run through her strands over and over again. âMaybe you should call your father, Nick.â
Daddy tightens his hold on the steering wheel. âIâm dead to my parents. I canât just call them.â
âBut this is a life or death situation. Surely, theyâll help their firstborn.â
âYou were there when they said theyâd only attend my funeral. I wouldnât be surprised if they had a hand in quickening the process.â
âThey wouldnât do that! Youâre their son.â
âA son who not only refused to inherit his fatherâs political legacy but also married a commoner who doesnât fit the Weaver image. Believe me, Iâm no longer their son.â
Tears shine in Momâs eyes. âSo itâs my fault?â
âNo.â Daddy takes her hand and places a kiss on the back of it while still focusing on the road. âI would choose you over all the socialites Mom arranged for me to date a hundred times over if I had to. What we have is real and Iâm lucky to have you.â
She sniffles. âIâm lucky to have you, too, Nick. I donât know how I wouldâve gotten through this mess without you.â
âWeâll be okay.â
âNo one steals from them and gets away with it,â she whimpers. âTheyâll hunt us down and hurt Sebastian⦠What if they take away our baby andâ¦andâ¦â
âHeyâ¦weâre here. No one will hurt him or us.â
âBut what if they do? I wish Iâd never done it.â
âItâs useless to think about things that canât be changed, hon.â
âIâ¦I donât know what the hell was wrong with me when I decided to take it⦠I justâ¦just wanted to help pay off our debt. We were working so hard to make ends meet andâ¦Sebastian needs to be in an international school, andâ¦I stupidly thought one item in the midst of twenty others wouldnât be discovered.â
Daddy grabs her hand tighter. âWeâll be fine. We have each other and our boy. Thatâs all that matters, right?â
âRight.â She smiles a little through her tears and I want to smile, too. I love when Mommy is happy after she cries. It means sheâll be better and spoil me and Daddy.
She leans over and kisses Daddy on the mouth. âI love you, Nick.â
âLove you, too, Julia.â
Iâm about to open my eyes and say I love them, too, even if I didnât understand most of what they said.
Itâs okay if I donât have my beautiful teacher anymore. I can just get another one. All that matters is that Iâll be with my parents and Iâll also have friends.
But before I can say anything, a loud sound of screeching tires pierces through my ears, and the last thing I see is a large truck.
Crash!
Thereâs impact, thereâs Momâs scream and Dadâs curse, and then thereâsâ¦nothing.
For a while at least. Iâm thinking thereâs nothing.
But then our surroundings burst into my ears all at once and it hurts. Thereâs a long buzz that I canât get rid of.
A mixture of sounds erupt all around me. Sirens. Shrieks. Strangers talking.
Whimpers. I think theyâre mine.
Mommy�
Daddy�
Where are you?
I want to search for them or at least hear their voices, but theyâre not among all the strangers talking. Theyâre just not there.
Why canât I find them?
And why is everything black?
Thatâs when I realize my eyes are closed, and when I attempt to open them, I canât. Even my body doesnât move.
All I can hear are voices, noises coming at me from all directions, and none of them are my parents.
Iâm scared.
Mommy, Daddy. Iâm scared.
I strain and my eyes flutter open a little, just a little. Someone is asking me in Japanese if I can hear them and someone elseâs shadow falls over me.
Another shadow reaches out a black hand and takes the painting from beside me. I want to scream no, that itâs ours. Itâs my mommyâs.
But I canât speak. I canât move.
The last thing I see before the world goes black stays with me forever.
The weak are meat. The strong eat.