Chapter 175 Wildly unfair

Chapter 175 Wildly unfair
Before I even fully realize what I’m doing, my hands are moving across my phone screen, pulling up flights from California straight to Texas.
My head is spinning, making the math hard to track. Impulse screams at me to book the absolute earliest flight available...to throw a change of clothes into a bag and race out the door within the hour....but logic digs its heels in. I take a ragged breath, force myself to slow down, and analyze the options. Going today means landing in the middle of the night, blind and completely unprepared. Booking a seat for tomorrow morning gives me time to figure out a game plan.
I hover my thumb over the final confirmation button, a sudden wave of hesitation hitting me. I think about Bastian. About calling him back, about whether I should pause and wait this out... but the sound of Talia’s trembling voice echoes in my ears.
I tap the screen and book the ticket.
Next, I consider calling my mother to warn her I’m coming, but my gut instantly recoils from the idea. Bad move. If she knows I’m flying in, she’ll either stage the house to make everything look entirely normal, or worse, she’ll blab to Matty....and God only knows what that manic bastard will do if he thinks I’m coming to disrupt his freaking household.
I pull up my thread with Talia instead...“I booked a flight. I’m landing tomorrow. Do not tell Mom or Matty I’m coming.”
Her response comes back in less than three seconds: “I won't. I promise. Thank you Kaden.”
I plug my phone into the wall charger on my nightstand, ignoring the steady stream of new notifications popping up across the lock screen, and head into the bathroom to take a shower.
Under the hot water, the noise in my head only gets louder. What the hell is my actual plan once I step off that plane? Do I even have one? How am I supposed to just walk into that house and physically pry my fourteen-year-old sister away? My mother will throw a hysterical fit, and Matty definitely won't just stand by and let me take her. It would be infinitely easier if we had close, reliable relatives or family friends in the area we could lean on, but we don't. We have no one out there. And I wouldn't feel right dumping Talia on a stranger's doorstep anyway.
It’s an absolute mess. The crushing weight of the stress wasn't remotely on my radar when I woke up today, and now it’s suffocating me.
Once I’m dressed in a fresh hoodie and sweatpants, I leave my room to find Dante and Josie, wanting to grab something to eat and fill them in on the flight. Walking down the hall, I hear Josie’s voice coming from her work studio. I peek through the cracked door and spot them in the middle of shooting something.
Deciding not to interrupt, I head to the kitchen, pour myself a quick bowl of cereal, and wander into the living room. I set the bowl on the coffee table and sink into the couch, rubbing my temples as I try to force my brain into strategy mode.
I sink deeper into the cushions, closing my eyes. I’d originally planned on heading over to the retirement home to visit this afternoon, but that’s completely out the window now. I pull air deep into my lungs, letting out a long, slow exhale, trying to forcibly quiet my nervous system for just five minutes.
The sound of a knock hits the front door with a loud, persistent rhythm.
I snap my eyes open, feeling completely out of it. I glance around the living room, then down at the coffee table, where my bowl of cereal now sits cold and visibly soggy.
Fuck. I passed out...
I slowly sit up, running a heavy palm over my face to shake off the grogginess, staring toward the foyer. Who the hell's knocking like they’re trying to kick the door down?
Then a familiar voice cuts right through the wood from the front porch.
"Kaden. Open up."
I push myself up off the sofa just as Josie glides out of her studio. She freezes the second she spots me, her eyes darting from my disheveled state straight toward the heavy front door.
"I've got it," I say, throwing a hand up and heading down the hallway. I clock that she doesn't turn back around, she just stands there, watching my back. I really hope she goes away, but who am I kidding? This is Josie.
I pull the front door open, and I'm instantly met by a very unhappy-looking Bastian.
It’s not the unhinged, dangerous version from the club floor, but irritation is carved into every single clean line of his face. His jaw is set, his blue eyes sharp. For a terrifying second, I wonder if I’m still asleep on the couch, trapped in some bizarre nightmare.
"I understand that you're upset," he starts, his tone clipped, smooth, and dangerously composed. "However, refusing to answer my calls and ignoring my texts strikes me as a bit dramatic. Don't you think?"
I frown, blinking at him. "What?"
My hand instinctively goes to my pocket to check my screen, but it comes up empty. I glance back toward the living room, thinking I left it by the cereal, before I remember I plugged it into the charger in my bedroom.
"It's charging in my room," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "Did you seriously drive all the way up here just because I didn't text back?"
"I drove all the way up here because you hung up on me for absolutely no reason."
I stare at him, utter disbelief knotting my stomach. "For no reason?"
He shifts his weight, his posture impeccably rigid. "Were my actions ethically appropriate? Probably not. Was it severe enough to warrant you slamming the phone down and ignoring six consecutive calls? I certainly don't think so."
A humorless, incredulous chuckle escapes my throat. I shake my head, completely dumbfounded by the audacity of the man standing on my porch.
"Right. Well, since invading people's personal privacy isn't such a big deal to you," I say, the words dripping with sarcasm, "maybe I should ring up your grandmother, let her take me out for a nice lunch, and satisfy my own fucking curiosity."
The second the sentence leaves my mouth, I know I've crossed a line. I hit a nerve. Bastian's eyes narrow, darkening instantly into something cold and stormy.
"Now you're just being petty," he says, his voice dropping into an icy register. "It's completely uncalled for."
I feel like my brain is about to literally detonate inside my skull. "Are you serious right now? Are you actually trying to rage-bait me?"
Instead of answering, he flicks his wrist, checking his watch. He lets out a quiet, muttered curse under his breath.
"I have an urgent meeting in a few minutes," he says smoothly, taking a step back. "Go get ready. We can finish this conversation in the car."
"I'm not going—"
I don't even get the words out. Bastian's already turned his back on me, taking the porch steps two at a time like he just gave an order to a junior associate that he fully expects to be followed. I stand in the open doorway for a couple of seconds, feeling completely whiplashed.
Every reckless, stubborn bone in my body wants to slam the door shut, lock it, and go straight back to sleep on the couch just to stick it to his perfect, controlling face. But my stupid, compromised heart is already betraying me. I turn around and head back down the hall.
The moment I round the corner, I run right into Josie and Dante. Josie's leaning casually against the wall, an amused, raised brow directed straight at me.
"Trouble in paradise again?" she asks. "You two might be setting some kind of record."
"It's nothing," I mutter, brushing past them toward my room.
Except it isn't nothing. It's wildly unfair, and it's pissing me off to no end. I feel like I've been pretty fucking patient with him. All I'm asking for is a basic level of human respect and boundaries. Concepts he seems to think are totally optional whenever he feels like taking over my life.
I don't bother changing out of my clothes. I just kick on a pair of sneakers, snatch my phone off the charger, and check the screen. Sure enough, six missed calls and four unread texts, all from Bastian.
And I'm the one being dramatic?
I throw my phone into my pocket and head back out to the living room. Dante looks up as I pass by. "Are you coming to the dance class later?"
"Maybe," I say without slowing my pace. "I'll text you guys when I decide."
As I walk down the steps, I realize I completely forgot to tell them about my flight to Texas tomorrow morning. They’re going to be wildly confused when I vanish, but I'll deal with that crisis before the end of the day.
Right now, my eyes land on the car idling in our gravel driveway. I stride straight to the passenger side, yank the heavy door open, slide in, and pull it shut with a bit too much force.
Totally an accident.
I can feel Bastian's intense gaze burning into the side of my face, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of looking back. I just stare dead ahead at the windshield, my jaw set.
A quiet scoff escapes his throat, almost as if he finds my silent protest vaguely entertaining.
"Seatbelt," he says, his voice carrying that familiar, quiet authority. I angrily yank the strap over my chest and slam the buckle into place.
"Where are you taking me?" I ask, staring straight ahead.
"To a club," Bastian says casually, steering with one hand.
I whip my head toward him, my eyes narrowing into slits. "Orphic?"
He gives a slight shake of his head. "No."
And that’s it. He doesn't offer another word.