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CHAPTER THIRTY

just to siblings sitting in a cell


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"So," I say, throwing my head back till it hits the wall, "this is a nice change of scenery."

"It's a cell, Brizo."

"I was being sarcastic."

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock."

"You think JJ has a plan to get us out?" I say, turning my head to the side. John B is sitting on the bench next to me, with his head resting against the cold wall and his eyes closed.

"Probably." He sighs, "Why didn't you tell me you two almost broke up?"

"Oh, uhm..." I scratch my right arm, "Well, you were off with dad... And then the whole kidnapping thing happened... He just had a panic attack, he got scared and tried to- Tried to run, I guess. We're fine now." I shrug.

"Yeah, but you should've told me. I would've killed him."

"Kiara almost killed him for you." I chuckle, remembering all the stuff she had thrown at his head.

"Good. Remind me to get her a cake or something to thank her." John B finally gives me a lopsided smile.

I scoot closer to my brother. I tilt my head, resting it on his shoulder letting out a heavy breath. I feel the weight of John B's head on mine when he mimics my gesture. He quickly places a soft kiss on the top of my head before going back to letting his head rest on mine.

"We're gonna save dad." I tell him, cause I know that's killing him from the inside.

"I know."

"He's fine, John. If something had happened, we'd know."

"How can you be so sure?"

"'Cause I always know when you need me." I smile lazily, "I'm sure it works the same way with dad."

Well, that wasn't true at all. I don't know if our father is dead already. But I'm hoping he's still alive. It would be a bummer if I got robbed of saying goodbye for a second time.

I've made peace with the fact that I'll probably never forgive our father for what he's put us through. I still love him, though. I'll always will. He's my father after all.

It's honestly a pretty messed up feeling. I know I don't owe him anything. John B and I basically raised ourselves, after turning twelve. Hell, we're not even eighteen yet and we're still looking after each other because we're the only family each other has left. That's not right. No kid should ever feel like this.

Still, after all this trauma, I can't help but feel a kind of heartbreak when thinking about him gone forever.

Am I being too mean? Am I really forgetting everything good he's done for us?

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