Chapter 8
OMARI
The lock clicked behind us, sealing Kael and me in with them, but before Leighton could gloat, a sound cut through the hallway. Sharp, feminine, commanding.
“Omari?”
My mother’s voice.
Every muscle in my body went rigid.
Aston froze mid-step, Kael still dangling from his grip. Leighton’s smirk faltered, Paxton’s hand loosened fractionally on my arm. For the first time, silence weighed heavier than their cruelty.
The door to the hall creaked open.
And there she was, my mother. Dressed in her housecoat, hair tied back, a line of worry etched between her brows. Behind her, my step father loomed, stern and unreadable, his shadow filling the doorway.
I stopped breathing.
Kael was still half-lifted off the ground, his lips split, blood streaking down his chin. But in one terrifying, fluid motion, Aston lowered him, almost gently, like nothing had happened. Kael crumpled but caught himself on his knees, clutching his ribs.
My mother’s eyes darted immediately to him. “Kael? What on earth?Your mouth!”
She rushed forward, but Paxton slid in front of me with such casual grace it could almost pass as coincidence. His hand brushed my arm once, a warning. Stay quiet.
Kael wiped at his lips quickly, smearing blood across his sleeve. “I-it’s nothing, Mrs. Ayad,” he rasped, his voice hoarse but steady. “Just… slipped. Hit the wall.”
A lie. A terrible one. But his eyes locked on mine, begging me to back him up.
My mother’s frown deepened. She crouched in front of him, tilting his chin with a mother’s soft insistence. “This isn’t just a slip, Kael. Your lip is split wide open.”
Leighton chuckled low, a sound that could almost be mistaken for amusement if you didn’t hear the edge beneath it. “He’s clumsy, ma’am. Always running into things.”
The casual venom hidden beneath his calm voice made Kael stiffen.
My father’s voice cut through, cool and level. “It’s late.” His eyes flicked between all of us, unreadable, sharp. “What’s going on here?”
Silence thickened. I wanted to scream the truth, to claw the words out of my throat and beg for help. But Paxton’s fingers brushed against mine in a grip so subtle, so unseen, it was a vice hidden under the tablecloth. Don’t speak.
Kael coughed. “We were just… hanging out, sir. Got a little rowdy, that’s all.”
My mother’s gaze darted to me. Her concern dug into my chest like hooks. “Omari? Is that true?”
My throat closed. Words stuck like glass. I forced a nod, my head jerking too quickly. “Y-yeah. Just messing around.”
Leighton leaned against the wall, smiling lazily, the picture of innocence. “Teenagers, right? Always a little too rough with each other.”
The way he said ‘rough’ made my stomach twist.
My father’s eyes lingered on me a fraction too long. He didn’t believe it. I could feel it in the heaviness of his stare. But he didn’t press, not yet.
“Enough,” he said finally, his tone decisive. “If you’re awake, then eat. Everyone. Now.”
My mother hesitated, looking back at Kael, then at me, her lips parting like she wanted to ask more. But she swallowed it down. Mothers always know, though. I could see it in her eyes.
She knew something was wrong, even if she couldn’t name it.
And so, just like that, the whole house shifted.
We ended up at the dining table.
The six of us. My parents, oblivious but suspicious. Me, sitting rigid with Paxton’s arm draped casually over the back of my chair like a noose disguised as affection. Kael across from me, shoulders stiff, lip swollen, trying to act like nothing hurt.
Leighton lounged comfortably making it obvious this was his home, Aston silent and watchful, his hazel eyes darting between every flicker of movement.
The clink of cutlery was too loud. Every scrape of a fork against a plate felt like a scream.
My mother fussed over Kael still, pressing a napkin toward him. “Hold this against your lip, darling. It’ll help.”
“Thank you,” Kael muttered, pressing it to his mouth. His hand trembled slightly.
Leighton’s grin widened, predatory. “So, Kael… is this your first time eating with the Ayads? You seem nervous.”
Kael’s jaw tightened. “I’m fine.”
“Really?” Leighton drawled, resting his chin on his hand. “Because you look like you’re about to choke on your own tongue.”
“Leighton,” my mother said sharply, frowning. “That’s rude.”
He tilted his head, all fake innocence. “Just an observation, ma’am.”
My heart pounded so hard I thought the table might shake. I wanted to scream at her. Don’t defend him, don’t even look athim, he’s not what you think. But my father's voice cut in again, steady, unnerving.
“You boys live nearby?”
Aston answered this time, calm, polite, like he hadn’t nearly killed Kael minutes ago. “Yes, sir. Just moved in, actually. Thought we’d get to know Omari a little better.”
The words dripped with double meaning. My fork slipped in my grip.
Kael’s eyes shot to me. He knew what they meant.
My father hummed, unimpressed. “I see. Make sure you don’t overstep. This is my house.”
For a flicker, just a flicker, I saw Paxton’s jaw tighten. A crack in the perfect mask. But then it was gone.
The tension was unbearable. Every second stretched razor-thin.And then
My mother’s voice again, soft, too soft. “Omari… sweetheart. Why are your hands shaking?”
I froze.
The whole table turned toward me. Paxton’s fingers ghosted over my wrist under the table, pressing down lightly, a silent threat.
I forced a laugh, brittle and sharp. “I-I’m just cold, that’s all.”
Kael’s eyes burned into me. He knew it was a lie.
Leighton smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Ayad. We’ll keep her warm.”
The way he said it made Kael’s fist slam the table before he could stop himself. The dishes rattled.
“Kael!” my mother gasped. “What on earth-”
Kael’s chest heaved. His eyes never left Leighton’s. “Don’t. Talk. About her. Like that.”
The silence that followed was lethal.
Leighton’s grin sharpened. Aston’s gaze narrowed. Paxton’s grip on my wrist became steel.
My step father’s voice was a knife cutting through it all. “Enough.”
And just like that, the moment shattered. Plates clinked, food was served, conversation forced into shallow channels. But beneath it, danger pulsed like a second heartbeat.
I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t breathe. Every laugh from Leighton, every quiet observation from Aston, every brush of Paxton’s hand felt like a leash tightening.
Kael sat across from me, bleeding into a napkin, his glare never leaving them. My mother kept glancing at him, worry written all over her face. My step father said little, but his silence was heavy, as though he was waiting for something.
We pretended. All of us.
But the truth throbbed beneath the table, thick and suffocating.
Because I knew this wasn’t dinner.
This was a warning.
And we were all trapped inside it.