Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 220
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
It hurts. “I don’t think we are, Eliot.” I face my sister who blinks back tears. “I’m sorry, Audrey, but I don’t want you to move in with us.”
“Cobalts are the strongest united as one,” Audrey says tearfully, trying to sway me, and she’s doing a decent job. Especially when she says, “Ensemble.” Together.
“Ensemble,” Eliot chimes in.
All I see is Ben struggling to breathe at the end of the table. Does no one else see him? Am I imagining this? No, I’m not. Beckett has left his chair. He’s crouching down to Ben and speaking hushed to him, and our dad leans over and whispers to Ben, too.
“I know, I know, I know,” Ben mutters into his palms. “I’m okay.” He’s not okay. “It’s not fair to her.” I hear his guilt over being a roadblock to Audrey’s big New York move. He doesn’t want to be the reason she doesn’t come, but he also doesn’t want her to move in with us either.
I have no guilt. “Audrey, don’t come to New York. Don’t graduate early,” I plead. “Think of all the time you’ll miss out with Kinney. Okay, be with your best friend. You don’t get that time back either.”
“I…” Audrey’s chin quakes seeing our little brother verge into a panic attack. Soon he’s springing out of his chair. Beckett leads him out of the dining room with our dad following behind.
The door shuts, but the tension hasn’t left with them.
“Gremlin,” Mom says to Audrey. “Do you need to step out for a moment?”
“No,” Audrey hoists her chin again, collecting her emotion. “I’m applying to Manhattan Valley University,” she tells the rest of us here. “If I get accepted, I start school next January. So if I’m not living with all of you, I’ll be living at the dorms.”
“Wonderful. Go with that,” Charlie snaps.
“I will,” Audrey threatens.
“She won’t,” Eliot says. “You’re living with us.”
“Eliot,” I groan, my hands threaded on my head.
He stands up now too. “Ben will be fine. If we opened our doors to him, it’s only fair we do the same for our sister—”
“It’s not the same. Nothing about this is the fucking same!” I shout in distress.
Jane is on her feet now. Which means the only two still sitting are Charlie and our mom. Jane taps a goblet with her knife, as though this is a normal Wednesday Night Dinner and it’s her turn for an opening remark.
This is not normal.
Not even close.
“Brothers. The ones who remain.” She swings her butter knife loosely to Charlie, me, and Eliot. “This decision is a monumental one, and I would like to remind you that we all flew from the nest at one time. Let our little sister fly free.” She extends her feathered arms.
“Jane Eleanor,” I gape. “A bird metaphor?” I release an angered groan. “We are lions. Okay, Audrey shouldn’t be flying. She should be with Mom. Mom, don’t you want Audrey here a little longer?”
Mom taps her sharp nails to the table. “Don’t bring me into your defense.”
“But it’s a good one.”
Her lips smooth together, and she gives me a subtle nod. I point to Audrey. “Did you see that? Mom nodded. Mom wants you here.”
“I know she does,” Audrey says. “We’ve spoken at great length, but I am ready to leave. It’s time for me to be in New York, and even though…I-I might not be wanted—”
“You are wanted,” Eliot interjects deeply. “I want you there. Tom wants you there.” He stares into me like, Do not crush our sister.
“Of course I want you there,” I tell Audrey, immediately hurting for Ben with each word. “But not right now.”
“Tom,” Eliot sighs hard.
Mom abruptly leaves the table, her phone in hand. “No bloodshed,” she warns us, quickly exiting with the clip-clap of her high heels.
“Tom.” Eliot tries to capture my gaze, but it’s becoming harder and harder staring him in the eye. I feel like a cowardly lion, but I love him. I love Eliot with my entire soul. As memories fade with age, loving him is the last thing I’ll remember from my childhood. We’ve never disagreed about anything this serious.
Never.
Not once in our lives.
“I’m just trying to protect Ben, dude. He’s not ready for her to live with us.”
Audrey pipes in, “He’s stronger than we all give him credit for, don’t you think?”
“I think we want him to be,” I say softly. “I’m terrified that we’ll push him too hard, too far, too fast.”
“So then I don’t live with you all in New York,” Audrey reasons. “I don’t want to hurt Ben. But I can’t put my life on pause out of fear that I might.”
I have no good rebuttal to this. None at all.
Charlie—the only one still seated—has an unlit cigarette between his lips. He leans toward a brass candelabra, letting the flame burn the tip. I expect him to enter the conversation, but he says nothing, drawing in a long drag.