Chapter 13: IX

— RORI —

Sunday morning has been yet another bad start to the day, as Xavi almost immediately called me into his office to speak with me and me only.

I know exactly what his concern is, of course.

"Come over here, Rori," he orders, as soon as i enter the room.

I close the door behind me before gingerly approaching my brother. Unexpectedly, he hands me a pile of papers.

"Would you mind placing these over there in the filing cabinet for me?"

Wordlessly, i nod, my state evidently frazzled as i struggle to read his expression. Xavi seems to notice this and offers me a small smile but it does nothing to put my mind at ease.

"Take a seat," he orders, once i have put the papers away. "How are you feeling?"

I gulp, instantly feeling smaller as i sit on the chair placed in front of my brother's desk.

"I—i'm feeling fine," i stutter, unsure. "What about yourself?"

If there is a change in his expression, i do not notice.

He simply seems too calm, which says something considering Xavi is usually anything but calm...

"I'm sure you can imagine how i feel, no? Or maybe not, since you don't have the pleasure of being the guardian to your younger siblings but, either way, you know exactly why you're here, don't you?"

I instantly avert my gaze, my hand finding its way to my bracelet. And when i don't reply, my brother impatiently hits his hand against the wooden desk, which understandably causes me to flinch.

There it is, my brain taunts. That unfortunate temper of his.

It doesn't help that i am hyper-sensitive.

Ever since i was a little girl, i'd cry at just about anything anyone did or said to me. Though as i feel tears beginning to surface, it's clear i haven't changed much since then.

"Y—yes," i mumble, timidly. "Yes, i know why i'm here."

"And why is that?"

I take in a sharp breath and dare to glance up at him, but quickly direct my gaze elsewhere when i see the infuriated look on his face.

He releases a humorous laugh, he grins and shakes his head at me, but he is far from amused.

"If i were you, i'd start talking now, Little Girl."

"I snuck out, okay!" i exclaim. "I snuck out to a party on Friday and i got drunk."

I fully intended on being prepared for this conversation beforehand. I needed to have a plan in place in order to get myself out of trouble, but, of course, it's too late now.

Word travels all too quickly with so many people living under one roof.

"But—"

"Look me in the eye when you are speaking to me. Don't be a coward now."

Hesitantly, i raise my head and am met with Xavi's intimidating glare. Those brown eyes of his...much darker than Zephaniah's. They look so similar, it should frighten me. They are brothers, though. They can't exactly help it.

I remain uncomfortable when he continues to stare at me without speaking, willing my eyes to look at him despite the strong urge to run out of this room and buy a one way ticket to New Zealand.

"I—i'm sorry, Xavi."

"Oh, you're sorry?" he mocks. "Well, i'm afraid 'sorry' just won't cut it this time, Rori," he continues. "Now why on earth did you think you could get away with sneaking out, drinking...hm?"

"Well it's not as if i was the only one!" i snap. "And for the record, it wasn't the first time either," i speak with a new-found confidence.

"What do you mean by that?" Xavi asks me, his calm tone returning.

"I mean that Seamus and Quentin were there too, but i bet no one told you that...In fact, they practically begged me to go with them," i admit, watching his face harden in realisation.

I'm unable to prevent the lone tear from making its way down my cheek. Xavi notices this as his eyes flicker to mine once more and he sighs under his breath, which only makes me more upset.

"Stop crying, okay?" he commands. "There's no need to cry, just take a deep breath and calm down."

Despite the stern tone of voice used, his words have and odd calming effect on me.

Slouching back in my chair, embarrassed by my small outburst, i try my best to maintain eye-contact with him.

"Why don't you go get your brothers for me, hm?" he speaks after a moment's silence. "It appears Teddy didn't fill me in on the whole story."

— SUCKER PUNCH —

"Quentin, i swear to God, don't come near me with that thing!" i hear Uvaldo shout as i enter the house.

"Why not? You're not afraid, are you?" Quentin taunts, a huge grin on his face. "Look how cute he is!"

Seamus was gifted two pet tarantulas, curtesy of Annalise's uncle; a pair of twin males, ironically enough, and he generously allowed Quentin to keep the other one in his room.

Both of them absolutely adore animals, and so Quentin was overjoyed at the idea of having his own.

He ended up naming his 'Fluffy' but i think 'Fangs' would have been more appropriate, all things considered. Seamus named his 'Jimi' in honour of one of his favourite guitarists, Jimi Hendrix.

So now we have the two of them: Fluffy and Jimi, the twins, already proving to be more tolerable than the ones who own them.

Not everyone in the house has been made aware of their presence yet, but it's safe to say most of us aren't huge fans of the creatures.

"Teddy, tell him to stop bothering me!" Uvaldo hollers to our unbothered brother.

"I'm not your bitch, Val!" comes his usual retort.

Rolling my eyes, i head upstairs, ignoring my immature brothers who pay no attention to me either.

I just arrived home from school but had to walk back by myself due to the fact i had been given yet another detention.

It isn't by any means an unusual occurrence for me to end up in trouble, but lately i have been putting myself in situations...deliberately, i suppose, as a means to escape my life at home.

Xavi dished out the punishments on Sunday morning and, since then, my twins have barely spoken to me.

According to Seamus, i'm 'a snitch' and 'dragged him and Quentin through the mud'. He also described me as many different things in many different languages but i don't necessarily think they need to be repeated...

Worst of all, instead of holding Teddy accountable for snitching on me, the latter somehow has them wrapped around his finger once more.

Like puppets on a string, my seventeen year old brother seems to have manipulated them, or at least Seamus, into becoming exactly like him.

All in the space of a few days...

No more shared cigarettes on rooftops, no more gossip of our oldest brothers, and definitely no more secrets.

It's whatever. Seamus has always been a two-faced dick underneath the surface. What hurts more is that Quentin is barely speaking to me, and i say that knowing that he doesn't usually hold a grudge.

My youngest brother always, without fail, appears by my doorway every night before he goes to sleep. He likes to check in on us due to his separation anxiety, yet i haven't seen his shadow cast in almost a week now.

Of course, he must've thought that i never noticed this habit of his. But i did.

I've always looked out for my younger brother as if he were...well, younger i suppose. After all, Quentin is my only younger sibling, even if it's only by a fourteen minute difference.

"Ri?"

I turn around, poking my head over the stair balcony.

"Val and i are heading out for the night. Wyatt'll be here to watch you guys, so behave for him, okay?"

"Dio Mio, Vinnie, i'm not five," i snarl in response, watching as he raises his eyebrows with a look of disbelief on his face.

"One would think." he scoffs under his breath.

"Leave me alone!"

"Whatever." he laughs, seemingly amused. "See you tomorrow."

I wait until his back is turned before flipping him off — i don't want to risk getting beaten up — and then angrily storm into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

At least Wyatt is in charge tonight. God, i couldn't bear seeing Xavi's face right now.

Besides, i feel safer when Wyatt is around...more comfortable.

For one, he sticks up for me and prevents inevitable fights from breaking out. And, secondly, he is the epitome of cool.

He's the brother who will let us get away with pretty much anything, hence why he and Xavi get into frequent arguments.

But i love that about him. It's exactly why he's my favorite.

He doesn't want to be a parent for us, reprimanding us for making stupid decisions: he, too, wants a slice of the action.

The boys think similarly, of course, which is why they'll probably be downstairs for the rest of the night, forcing him to play Call of Duty or whatever dumb video game they're fixated on at the moment.

Naturally, this is a win for me as it means i won't have to interact with anyone for the rest of the night.

If only Wyatt were in charge more often...

— SUCKER PUNCH —

I snuck out.

Not the smartest decision, i'm aware, but the good news is, i know what i'm doing.

I decided to head to The Clubhouse in order to get a head start on some of my chores that Xavi has given as punishment.

It was closed already, by the time i got here, but, since i am the owner's sister, i get the pleasure of owning a spare key.

First on the list is to reorganise all of the boxing equipment kept in the storage room: check.

Second on the list, which i'm currently tackling, is to mop every floor in the vicinity.

This place has more floors than i can count; most of them still waiting to be mopped.

I'll be in here for the rest of my life, no joke.

I am cinderella, and Xavi is my ugly stepsister, but i will never have my happy ending because there is no pumpkin carriage waiting outside to whisk me away to the ball.

Okay, so i might have binged-watched Disney movies last night instead of studying, but never mind, that is not the point.

I'm doomed.

— SUCKER PUNCH —

I'm busy mopping...or, rather, dancing to the Mamma Mia soundtrack, when the studio lights flicker on one by one.

The last light remains flickering and i make a mental note to tell Xavi in the morning.

But then i realise, if i'm in here alone, who the hell turned the lights on?

I click the pause button on Spotify just in time to hear several voices from the parking lot.

I place the mop down and stealthily make my way towards the emergency exit door.

As i continue to approach them, i acknowledge that they are speaking at a high volume. Perhaps arguing with one another.

I press my body against the wall adjacent to the door, opening it ever so slightly and internally begging that it won't make a noise.

Thankfully, if the door did make a noise, no one acknowledged it. Though as soon as i spot my eldest three brothers, i can barely contain a gasp.

Zephaniah appears to be on the phone to someone; gesturing with his hands, barking demands in Russian, and cursing a whole lot too.

It's strange...he has barely ever spoken in his mother tongue since we moved to The States.

It's like he wants to separate his old life back home and his new one here in California...which i can understand, in a way, given how different things used to be.

Zephaniah also sounds scarily similar to our father when speaking Russian, so i suppose that may be another reason that he prefers to speak any of his other known languages.

But Zephaniah speaking Russian sounds far more natural, intimidating, and domineering, compared to when he speaks in English. It's unnerving, really, and if i were the person on the other end of that phone call, i would be fearing for my life.

Xavi stands a few feet away from him but, every so often, paces back and forth a few feet.

Yakov comes into view after a few minutes have gone by and pats Xavi on the shoulder, handing him something which i cannot make out in the dark.

Zephaniah gestures at the two of them and they get into their separate cars, driving away in a motion which suggests they are in a rush.

"...I gde oni seychas?" he asks, using a slightly calmer tone than before, though one still equally as threatening.

The person must've replied, as he scratches his forehead in thought, a concentrated look on his face. He reaches into the pocket of his coat and produces a single cigar. He then places the phone in-between his shoulder and left ear, lights the cigar, and begins to smoke it mid-conversation.

This carries on a little longer, while i hopelessly try to decipher the conversation.

"Kto byl na meste proisshestviya? Mne nuzhny podrobnosti, i oni nuzhny mne seychas...Znayesh' chto—"

Being my clumsy self, i somehow manage to stub my toe in the gap of the doorway. Of course, this doesn't go unnoticed when i release a sudden cry of agony. And, on top of that, my stumbling backwards causes me to elbow the light switch, making the room become dark once more.

I shriek when i realise what i have just done, and then shriek again when i realise i'm as good as dead.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit."

It's far too late now.

There is no way he can't have heard what just happened.

And i — being as stupid as i am — stay put for him to find me, as the surge of pain that courses through my body from the minor shock of stubbing my big toe is enough to cause me to lose my bearings.

"Pozhaluysta, podozhdite minutku...kazhetsya, u menya neozhidannaya kompaniya."

His footsteps are slow, and unsettling, and i suddenly become aware of my heart beating from within my chest.

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid."

I try to make a run for it. I really do.

I think i have gotten away with it as-well because, all of a sudden, i can no longer hear the sound of his footsteps, but then i remember who i'm dealing with...Zephaniah Łabanowski; a hardened, badass criminal.

A large hand wraps itself around the entirety of my mouth within a split second of my attempted flee, roughly pulling me back towards his chest.

I release a muffled shriek when i feel a knife blade being placed against my throat, and immediately go limp in his arms.

His grip is tight and he restrains me with such ease, all with just one hand too, as if it were an everyday chore.

I immediately scowl when a mental image pops up of toddler me throwing a tantrum in his arms.

It was an everyday chore.

He removes the knife from my neck, which i am ever so grateful for, only to replace it with his other arm as he proceeds to drags me backwards.

My feet scrape against the ground as we move, and he all but slams my body against the brick wall behind us, causing me to groan in pain.

I squeeze my eyes shut out of fear that he might harm me, only he doesn't so much as move. I remain still, hands raised in surrender as his arm keeps me in place, and then i hear it...

A deep, breathy chuckle...and then another.

Once his laughter dies down, he loosens his grip ever so slightly and i am finally able to breathe.

I hesitantly open my eyes and see him staring back at me in amusement.

"Well, well, well..." he begins. "What do we have here?"

"You—" i cough. "You almost killed me!"

"Now that's a bit dramatic, no?" he asks, displaying an innocent look on his face as i flail around in his hold.

"L—let me go!"

He tsks.

"Don't forget the magic word, Rori."

My scowl returns at his mocking tone of voice.

Fuck you, Zephaniah.

Swallowing my pride, i roll my eyes as i mutter a "please."

He ungraciously removes his arm and i fall straight to the ground, releasing a small whimper from the impact.

He doesn't bother to help me up. He simply readjusts his cuffs and smiles when he notices me glaring up at him.

I rub my neck which is now sore and check the back of my head for blood, though luckily there is none. It will surely bruise, however.

"I thought you would at least try to defend yourself, Sorellina." he sighs, as if i have greatly inconvenienced him. "I have to say, i'm thoroughly disappointed."

"Defend myself?" i scoff. "You would've put me in hospital!"

"You do not eavesdrop on one's private conversation and expect them not to react." he nonchalantly shrugs.

"You knew it was me the whole time?"

"Of course not," he seethes. "It's pitch-black in here, no thanks to you," he exaggerates, hitting the light switch. "I heard your futile little protests and only then did i realise who i was dealing with."

"I would've fought back if it were anyone else!" i exclaim.

"Well, i would hope so." he pins me with a meaningful glare. "That was pathetic, Rori. You act so weak when i taught you to be strong and to fight back. I do not care who your opponent is: you are to fight until you physically can't. Until your lungs collapse," he orders. "You understand me, Child?"

I nod.

I don't want my big brother to be disappointed in me.

I want to make him proud.

"I asked you a question," he reiterates in a low, stern voice. "Or is it my English that you don't understand? Hm?"

I can hear my consciousness telling me to defy him; to snap at him.

You hate him, Rori, i remind myself, You don't want to make him proud. You don't want anything from him.

But i don't listen.

"I understand," i reassure him. "I'll do better. I promise."

"I don't need to retrain you in order to perform such basic defence skills?" he asks, condescendingly.

"Of course not!"

"Molto bene," he praises. "Now you're going to tell me what you're doing here at this time of night, when you should be in your bed and asleep," he demands.

"I just needed to get away...clear my head," i reason. "I didn't realise anyone was here. I wasn't intending to spy on you. I promise."

"If you need to clear your head, you go outside or you go for a walk," he tells me. "This is Xavi's workplace and i believe you require his permission to be here."

"I'm sorry, Zeph. It won't happen again," i assure him, and he narrows his eyes at me.

"Just as well. I may not be so kind as to let you off with only a warning next time."

"I know." i nod in understanding, before adding, "And i won't you let almost kill me next time."

His lips quirk upwards ever so slightly.

"You've always been a fast learner compared to your twins," he muses. "Seamus reminds me of me. He gets ahead of himself and thinks he knows best. Doesn't obey authority. Quentin, on the other hand, has something his brother does not; a moral compass. He is much too shy, too quiet, compared to the rest of us. In fact, i find it hard to believe we're related at all."

"What about me?" i ask, intrigued by the sudden turn in conversation.

"What about you?" he repeats, amused by the question. "You are extremely courageous and smart. Cunning at times, always up for a challenge. You stand up for yourself and for others," he lists. "You tend to stick your nose where it isn't wanted. You're annoying, outspoken, and the easiest person on the planet to antagonise," he lists, with a smirk.

I don't pay attention to the latter part of his speech, only focusing on the fact my eldest brother complimented me.

He's capable of doing that?

Of course, my bubble soon bursts when my mind backtracks and acknowledges what he said after that.

I blame him for giving me all of those traits.

"You all constantly target me! I can't help but be antagonised!"

He feigns a pout, mockingly tilting his head to one side.

"And why do you think that is, Ria?"

"Because you guys are mean. All of you. Even 'moral compass' Quentin," i say, causing him to scoff a laugh.

"It's because you're the easiest target," he reveals. "If you retaliate then people are more likely to provoke you. Besides, it's an older sibling's job to make your life a misery. Isn't that what i've been doing for almost three decades?" he jokes.

"That's not fair," i mumble.

"Life's not fair." he shrugs, placing his hands into his pockets.

I huff.

A question pops into my head.

I better ask him while he's in a good mood.

"Zeph?" i speak in a timid voice, sitting down so my back is against the wall.

"Mhm?"

I watch as he sits down beside me, and suppress a laugh at the image of my giant of a brother, dressed in his work attire, sitting on the gym floor.

As i look at him, i no longer feel inferior in the way that i do when he is towering above me. It makes me feel comfortable, like we are speaking one adult to another.

"Have you spoken to Teddy yet?" i ask him.

"Which one's that?"

"Zeph!" i whine. "I'm serious. Have you?"

"I don't believe i've had the chance to speak with him one-on-one, no," he admits. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh...No reason, i was just wondering," i dismiss him.

"Is there an issue i should know of regarding Teddy?"

I shrug my shoulders.

"He's just...Well, i think he has an issue with me. I mean, we've never gotten along but i guess i thought that would change with age."

Zephaniah rolls his eyes, clearly disinterested in the matter.

"Would you like me to have a word with him, Rori?" he speaks in a slow voice, one which suggests he knows exactly what i am implying.

"I don't want you to get involved or anything, obviously, but i think you should speak to him at least," i say. "I think he'd like for you to speak to him."

He pauses for a moment, scrutinising me.

"You're not making much sense, are you?"

I wordlessly shake my head and he looks away from me, but not before i catch the ghost of a smirk on his face.

"I'll speak to him," he agrees.

"Thank you." i heave a sigh of relief.

Before he can respond, his phone begins to ring which diverts our attention. He glances at me momentarily, sighs, and then removes the phone from his pocket.

"I have to take this," he tells me, eyes glued to the screen.

I nod and he stands up, answering the call as he begins to walk away from me.

"Net, s etim razobralis'...Polagayu, u tebya yest' novosti dlya menya?"

Shooting me a knowing glance, he disappears outside so that i am no longer able to hear his conversation.

I scoff in offence but patiently remain on the gym floor, waiting for him to come back for me.

I am a little disappointed that our conversation had to be cut short, seeing as we seemed to be getting somewhere.

I know that i will never be best friends with Zephaniah, but tonight i am able to see him in a different light and it is nice not having an audience nearby to encourage his mean and childish behaviour towards me.

"Hurry up," i mutter to myself, absentmindedly playing a game of tic-tac-toe with my fingers.

After several excruciatingly tedious minutes pass, Zephaniah walks through the door once more, purposefully striding towards me.

"Get up," he orders, yanking my arm, thus forcing me to stand up. "We're leaving."

"Ow!" i whine, but he ignores me.

I follow him outside and we end up in the parking lot in front of his sleek, black car.

I hurriedly step into the passenger side, taking in the interior.

Zephaniah doesn't wait for me to put my seat belt on, immediately pulling out of the parking space.

"Uhm...Where is it we're going?" i hesitantly ask him.

I check the dashboard and see that it is nearing eleven pm — on a school night, no less. It's safe to say Xavi is not going to be pleased with me.

Why did i ever think sneaking out while grounded was a good idea?

"We're heading to the hospital," he eventually replies, as he skilfully weaves his way through the traffic.

I turn to face him, wide-eyed, with a wary look on my face.

"A hospital? Why? What happened?" i fire questions at him.

He is silent for a few moments more, and the only sound comes from the car engine purring while we continue to cruise down the busy highway.

"There was an incident involving Vinnie and Uvaldo."

"What happen—"

"They were shot."

I close my eyes, inhaling deeply.

We don't speak for the rest of the drive there.

This is it, i think to myself. This is the beginning.

(Edited)