Shattered Dynasty by Ava Harrison
1
Payton
My flip-flops slapthe pavement with my quick steps. Not a good choice for footwear, but I was running late this morning, and they were still out from the weekend beach trip.
Lucky for me, it’s only a few blocks to school.
It’s the reason Ronald picked it for me to rent. That and its beauty were the deciding factors when we signed the lease.
Four years ago.
Most freshmen at Ludlow University lived in the dorms the first year of school, but not me. My sister’s boyfriend at the time, Ronald, would never allow that. He insisted on renting me the perfect house.
Erin’s dating history could fill a yearbook. Jocks, goths, rockers. She’d done them all, shuffling through men faster than a deck of cards. But with Ronald, it lasted longer than most. They were together for what seems like forever. About nine years. Until something happened and, like the rest, he was gone.
I still love him like my own brother. Father, actually. He’s way older than Erin, who’s way older than me. Unlike the few before him, he has his shit together and has always been good to me, which is why I humored him and let him rent this palace.
Because that’s what it is.
A beautiful home close enough to the school that my commute never impedes my studies. Something I’m grateful for given the heavy coursework in business.
I never want to go back to the way my life was before Ronald.
At the crosswalk, I palm my phone, type out a message, then delete it. My teeth sink into my bottom lip. I stop when I realize I’m pacing. Erin is an adult. Thirteen years older than me. I shouldn’t be worried about her, but ever since Ronald cut her off, she’s been needier than usual.
The air is warmer than I expected for this time of year.
Despite being fall, it still smells of summer. Of barbecues and freshly cut grass. New Yorkers are trying to squeeze the most out of the lingering weather. That will change soon. To cold air, burning leaves, and roasted nuts that will invade my nostrils on my walk to school.
The light signals me to walk. I do, forcing myself to shove my phone back into my pocket and readjusting my jean jacket around the crook of my elbow. I need to forget about my sister. Erin can take care of herself.
I graduate at the end of spring. That’s over nine months away. With the way the past few years have kicked my ass, it may as well be a decade.
I can already envision this school year. More sleepless nights on the phone with Erin. She’ll be frantic like she always is now that money has gotten tight. She’ll ask me what she’s going to do. I’ll tell her it’s going to be okay, but she won’t believe me.
It’s the same call each night, followed by a cram session of homework and studying I pushed aside to calm Erin.
And every morning, I wake up and do it again.
Assuming I sleep. Lately, I don’t.
My life boils down to two things—Erin and school. In that order. Unlike my sister, once I get my degree, I’ll get a job and support myself.
I stop at the next crosswalk. The urge to baby my older sister wins over, so I pull out my phone again.
Me: Have you eaten? Are you okay? You should get some rest. Please take care of yourself.
The message stays in the text box, unsent. I’m not supposed to encourage this level of codependency. Not with me, and not with Ronald.
It’s not that I don’t love him, but it’s painfully obvious Erin can’t live without him. Or his money.
Regardless of what drove them apart, he’s always done right by me, and the truth is, he deserves better than her. She used him for his money. For his status. For his safety net.
Without him, she is hanging by a thread and so close to snapping. I used to feel like she was the baby of the family, and I replaced her not only as the older sister, but also as her mom. Like I was raising her.
Then Ronald happened.
That’s when her fairy tale started. He moved us out of the small home we shared and into a beautiful mansion on the water.
When I was old enough, he sent me to school, bought me a car, and rented me a house.
Everything was perfect.
Until he left.
Erin is back to being a wreck now.
From the little I gathered from her, he stopped paying her bills. Odd, since mine are still being paid. She won’t tell me what happened between them or where he went. All she said is he was gone. Her exact words were, “That asshole left us. If you really didn’t do anything wrong with him, something to convince him to pay for you instead of me, you’ll respect me and not hit him up. ’Kay, Payton?”
Which should’ve been the end of that. After all, she banned me from contacting the only father figure I can remember having. But nope. To top it all off, my sister calls me every night, making sure I haven’t tried to contact him, and then accuses me of sleeping with him.
Why else would he have cut her off yet still pay for my college? Why else is my life still perfect when hers is now shit?
Her words, not mine.
We are still very fortunate.
We both have roofs over our heads. Food in our mouths. There was once a time, before him, when we had neither.
Still, regardless of all of that, I can’t help but think something is wrong. That something bad happened to him. Why else wouldn’t he reach out to me? Maybe he’s sick? Hurt? The what ifs don’t leave. No matter how hard I try to distract myself, I can’t. The nagging feeling never goes away.
I finally cave, deleting the text to Erin and replacing it with one for Ronnie.
Me: I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked. I’m sorry. I should have contacted you sooner. Are you okay? Erin asked me not to reach out, but I’m worried.
Okay, narcing on my sister is peak immaturity, but it isn’t like she is winning any trophies in the maturity department, either.
I tried to respect her wishes as long as I could. I really did.
The text bounces seconds after I send it. I worry my bottom lip as I resend it.
Bounced.
Again.
With my heart heavy and my mind confused, I make it to my class.
Heather gives me a wave. She’s not in her usual seat. Instead, she’s closer to the window. I look over to where we normally sit and see those seats occupied. I guess I’m not the only one running late today.
I head in her direction, taking the spot beside her.
“What’s going on?” She narrows her eyes at me.
“Nothing.” I shrug.
At my word, she shakes her head. “Nope. Something is wrong. Because it sure doesn’t look like you’re fine.”
Of course, she noticed.
Heather and I have been friends since freshman orientation. She lived in the dorms and was my lifeline to a social life. After watching my sister overindulge for years, I was too driven to screw it all up by going to house parties, so she dished all the dirty details to me secondhand.
I touch my hair.
“What do you mean?” My eyebrow lifts as I pat the loose strands down. “Am I a mess?”
“Not a mess, per se. But it did look like you were thinking really hard when you walked in here.”
My chest expands as I inhale deeply. “I was thinking about Ronald,” I admit on a sigh.
Her large brown eyes continue to scrutinize, but she puckers her lips. “Still no word?”
“Nope. It’s kind of weird. Why would he vanish like an asshole? My sister is tough to love, and I get it. Still . . . why not cut ties with both of us?”
“Maybe he wants something from you.” She raises her brow.
“Gross.”
“Gross, yes, but maybe he thinks you’re like your sister. Men can be dicks sometimes, Pay. Maybe he’s going to pop back up and be like, I paid your bills . . .”
“No way. It has to be something else.”
“Like what?” She lifts her closed pen to her mouth and starts to tap her lip. “I got it! Maybe he did something awful to Erin, and paying your bills is his penance.”
“That makes no sense. Because then he would be paying her bills.”
“True . . . Okay, what if she did something awful, and he feels guilty for leaving you in the lurch?”
“But wouldn’t he call to tell me that himself? It’s been years and still, no contact.”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“He’s on Mars.” She shrugs.
“That makes the most sense, to be honest. Or he’s in the CIA, and we were his cover story.”
We both laugh at that.
“How’s your sis?”
Tilting my head, I give her a look that says, are you kidding me?
“A mess, as always.” I roll my eyes.
“She drinking?”
I shake my head.
“Using?”
Again, I say no, but then I shrug. “Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t go visit her that often.”
“I can understand that. Even without seeing her, she calls all the time.”
“Yeah, plus, what’s the point of asking her? She doesn’t answer any of my questions. And I ask a lot. She isn’t telling me something. Something huge. I know it. And because of that, I just can’t bring myself to hear her lie to me. For years, before Ronnie, I dealt with this behavior. He made everything better. But she’s regressing. She’s as flighty as before, and I can’t deal. Plus, the guy she’s dating right now . . .” I shiver.
He gives me the creeps. The way he looks at me like I’m a piece of meat. Which in and of itself is not okay, but seeing as he’s dating my sister, it makes him a real lowlife.
Heather goes quiet as the door swings open. Our professor steps out and crosses the front of the room to the podium. Her heels click on the wood floors as the room goes quiet.
She demands respect, and we give it.
When she begins the lesson, I lean forward to make sure I don’t miss a word.
I’m so engrossed in the lecture that I don’t notice Heather whispering to me, or that the teacher has stopped speaking and every eye in the classroom is on me.
Heather bumps my arm, and I snap out of my trance.
“Please, Ms. Hart, don’t let us keep you.” The professor points at my bag, and the sound registers.
My phone is ringing. I forgot to silence it.
“Please answer the phone.” Her tone is harsh.
This isn’t good. The semester has only just started, and my professor already hates me. She made a speech on the first day of class, warning us to silence our phones or live to regret it. Now I understand precisely what she meant by that.
That’s the problem with taking a class in your major. The classes are smaller, so the professors know you.
Especially here at Ludlow, a small, private college. Everyone in the department knows me.
The phone keeps ringing, and I have to hit the little button. I don’t want to, but I also know I have no choice.
“On speaker. So everyone can hear who so rudely interrupted my lecture.”
I pull it out and instantly cringe when I see the word Erin on the screen. This is going to be bad. There is no telling what she will say.
“Answer it.”
So, I do.
I press the button.
The sound of my heartbeat drums in my ears.
Then I hear the familiar sound of Erin sniffling, and I want to melt into the chair.
Erin is about to go on a crazy, dramatic rant for my class to hear.
I look up at the professor, imploring her not to make me do this, trying desperately to convey that I’ve learned my lesson.
But she only smiles at me. One that says I sealed my own fate.
I don’t interrupt my sister.
Instead, I wait for her.
But the words she says are not what I expect.
And as she says them . . .
My hand opens. My fingers slip. And the phone crashes to the floor.
“Ronald is dead.”