THE TAYLORS [H.S]

3.

Anna

"How do you always manage to get yourself into some sort of trouble?" Michael asked once we were settled in the car.

I didn't say anything, I just leaned my arm against the window, my eyes focused on the passing trees. With the tone of his voice, I could tell he was tired and frustrated, and I wasn't about to give into it and start an argument with him. Michael was the calmest of out of my brothers, but they didn't mean his temper wasn't bad. Growing up, I learnt the hard way. My family was my family, and siblings fought - though the repercussions of a fight within our family was outside the norm. I wasn't scared of them by any means, I knew what they were capable of but I also knew the philosophy of blood was thicker than water was drilled far too deep into their brains for them to ever forget it. Family came before everything, and despite how much we bickered and snapped at each other, it was the way it was always going to be.

"Are you listening?" Michael snapped when I didn't reply. I rolled my eyes, sighing loudly. "Don't give me that shit, this is your fault."

"How is it my fault? If it wasn't for you metalling in my life, I wouldn't of had to come down to the club and make a scene."

"He wasn't right for you," he said, like he knew the answer to everything. "You need to trust our judgment."

I snorted. "By the looks of your little crew of bodyguards, your judgment is pretty poor."

His grip tightened on the wheel, and he shot daggers in my direction, clearly unimpressed by my attitude. My brothers worked hard to hire the best of the best for the club. I knew all the guards who were hired weren't just guards though. They were hand picked, background checked, trialled and tested to the max before they even made it through the club doors. They all had a story behind them, coming from all sort of criminal backgrounds that made them perfect for the dirtier side of the job that nobody spoke about while I was around. These men were bad people, and I hated to put my brothers in the same category, but as time went on and the more years they spent in the business, I could see the their humanity fading away away from them, and the darkness replacing it. There were too many secrets hidden in my siblings eyes, far too many that I even wanted to know about. Sometimes getting left in the dark was better than knowing the truth.

"You're wrong," he said flatly, shaking his head. "Our judgment is always right."

I wanted to remind him how Newbie didn't know who I was and that he didn't know he wasn't allowed to wear jewellery. I wanted to remind him that Harry had pretty much undressed me with his eyes before he got to us, but I chose to shut my mouth. I knew in the way he said that, that there was a double meaning behind those words. It was far too late for me to pick apart his riddle.

I hated moments like that, where he reminded me of what they were capable of - and how heartless they could truly be. I hated thinking that they were the monsters that good parents would warn their children about before they left the house. People always use to comment on how much I was like my brothers. I'd smile and thank them, as one would do, but in the back of my mind, it made me overthink and my heart squeeze. My brothers had never had any romantic relationship, they always said that to get to an enemy's heart, you go through the people they loved most, and they never wanted to be vulnerable. I liked to think that I had more of a heart though, that I could actually feel human emotion unlike them, who pretended to be emotionless robots. Even if my attitude came out a little more often than it should. I liked to think that the people who use to come to our door, screaming to speak to my brothers, had gotten their facts wrong - and that the missing people who they were referring too, had nothing to do with my family. I liked to think that my mother was telling me the truth when she'd usher me away from the door and out of sight as a little girl, when the police came knocking on my door and took my father away in handcuffs, telling me that it was all a misunderstanding and my father would be home soon. Despite the fact he was taken from us for five years, she still likes to tell me he was wrongfully accused and it wasn't his fault.

When my father was away, that was when my brothers really did take charge of the family business. They hired twice as many guards around the house to keep it secure and to keep people away from the bothering us, they increased the workload of the guards and they dove deeper into the darker side of the things. I use to question where they went at night, blamed it on them rebelling that our dad was taken away, but the rebellion stage never went away - it just got worse, and the name for themselves got more sinister. I lost a lot of my friends when it happened, and I hated them for it. People were were scared of them, of me. I wanted to remind my friends that I was still the same person, I still loved the same things and loved our friendships the same - but nobody wanted a bar of it. As a young girl, it stung a lot more than I thought it would. That's when I turned to my family and the guards my brothers hired, finding peace in the fact they everyone knew so much about each other and yet we were all still accepting of one another. I had changed from that moment on.

When girls were sixteen and going to cheer camp, I was in my backyard learning self defence. When people were out partying on their twenty first, I was given the gift of learning more about the business of our family and how it operated. I still didn't know everything, though it was a gift from my brothers, stating that whether they liked it or not, I was a Taylor and it was vital that I knew certain things of the business in case anything was to ever happen to them.

"Are you home tomorrow?" Michael suddenly asked, breaking the small silence we had between us. I hadn't noticed we were pulling up to the house.

Michael rolled down his window, letting the cool night breeze come in, as he punched in the code for the gate. It made a harsh buzzing sound, and the gates slowly opened, allowing Michael to drive across the long gravel driveway. The automatic lights turned on as they censored Michaels car. I remembered when we had first got them and I was trying to sneak out of the house. No one had told me we had gotten them installed, and I had been caught red handed by Trent, trying to sneak out of the house at three am. It was one of the worst nights ever.

"I should be," I mumbled, mid yawn. "Why?"

Michael didn't respond, he just nodded and got out of the car, leaving me tiredly to follow behind him. I was past annoyed by his silence. He was never a big speaker, he only spoke when he had something important to say, and if he didn't think his answer held any real importance, it was unlikely that you would get a response from him. Michael didn't do small talk. Everything he said or asked had a purpose and a meaning behind it. For him to ask me if I was going to be home, meant he needed something from me or he needed to know my whereabouts because something was going to happen and I wasn't allowed to be near it.

I sighed and followed him into the big house, feeling lonely as ever as he disappeared into the study to speak with my dad. It was already 1:30AM and I wasn't surprised to see the light still on, and my dad sitting against his office chair, mumbling something on the phone.

Michael went to speak, but noticed my eyes watching. He frowned at me, before shutting the door in my face and leaving me alone in the dark hallway.