THALIA

50. Secrets

• THALIA •

Night hit, but it wasn't the only thing that hit.

My massive flood of emotions hit me whilst i was   desperately trying to fall asleep on the dusty floorboards of Sadie's room.

And now it's 4:50 am and my body's wet from sweat but my face is wet from tears.

Never in my life would I have thought I would love somebody enough to miss them. But here I am, missing the Fords a helluva lot more than I'd like.

What are they doing right now?
Do they miss me?
Do they hate me for leaving?
Are they happy we're not related?
Are they doing fine?
Do they blame themselves?

All these questions and worries buzzing about in my clogged up brain.

I wish I could just text Nadine.

But I can't risk it. I would hate myself if anything happened to them and it was all thanks to me. The thought makes me feel sick.

Whenever I've read romance books I've always hated the miscommunication trope. And whilst this may not be a romance novel, there's still of a lot of miscommunication going on. But can you even call it that? I'm doing it on purpose.

This hurts my brain.

Sadie keeps talking in her sleep and it's creeping me out. I'll absolutely lose it if the girl starts sleep walking.

I turn on my side and stare at the door. I hear footsteps. The floorboards are creeping. It's probably Jimmy... I hope. Or one of the other kids coming home quite late. Or maybe it's a girl creeping out from Eli's room.

But when the footsteps stop right outside Sadie's room, my heart skips a beat. I start sweating profusely more.

When I see the door knob turn I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself.

It's probably little Allan playing a prank...

The door swings open and I keep my eyes closed. The footsteps continue into the room. I hear them get closer

And closer

And closer

And closer to me.

Until they stop.

And next thing I know my mouths being covered with something and a bags being shoved over my head.

I'm tired of screaming.

6 months later...

The guilt has been gnawing away at me.

There's no winning in this situation.

If I told Thalia the truth then someone would have hurt her, but when I didn't tell her the truth she's probably hurting anyway. How do I win? Fuck, how do any of us win?

But I won't lie, I'm feeling... regretful. Maybe I should've just told my Dad that someone threatened Thalias life and he would have sorted it like he always does. But I was.. scared. Terrified even. I don't want anyone to think I'm a fucking pussy. But when I really start deeping the current circumstances, I'm starting to believe I did the wrong thing. And this sudden feeling of remorse makes me get up out of bed and storm towards my Dads room.

The whole family's been depressed since Thalia left. But surely they would have been more depressed if she was kidnapped or something, right...?

There's light leaking out from underneath the door which signals he's awake. But I wouldn't of cared if he was asleep, if I keep the truth a secret for any longer I might just burst.

I don't bother knocking I just fling the door open.

My dads sat on the edge of the mattress with his head in his hands. He looks up and he looks exhausted. "Son..."

"Dad, I've fucked up. Big time."

My Dads mood switches from tired to alert in a matter of seconds. "What have you done..."

I walk closer to him, "don't be mad..."

"Cant promise you that, Son. What did you do? Impregnate a girl?"

"Dad I wouldn't call a child a fuck up... but that's besides the point."

"Go on then..."

"I lied."

"I knew you ate those cookies." My Dad looks at me with beady eyes.

"No, Dad. No!"

Dad huffs, "okay, okay. Go on then."

"You know when I said Thalia wasn't related to us..?"

"Of course I remember."

"Well... I lied. She is related to us."

My Dads eyes widen in an instant. "...like, how closely related?"

"She's my sister."

My dad practically launches off the bed, "why. The. Fuck. Would you say she wasn't then?!" Anger is practically seeping off of him. I've only seen him like this once, and that was when Mum disappeared from the hospital.

"I-I..."

"Matteo..." he warns with a deathly glare.

"I got messages. Telling me they'd kill her, Dad." My voice breaks and my Dad calms down a little. He's still fuming but I think a little less at me and more towards the person behind the messages.

"Son of a bitch," he shakes his head and scratches his beard. "You still have the messages?"

I nod, "took screenshots." I take my phone out of my basketball shorts pocket and scroll through my photos. When I find the screenshot, I pass the phone to my Dad.

He reads though the messages and I see the fire in his eyes ignite. And when he looks up, he's got murder written in bold letters all across his face.

"We are going to find her. And we are going to bring her back here. And we are going to find the ducker who did this." My Dad says in a deathly calm tone and that's when I know, he's mad.