The-Wrong-Bride-Ares--Raven’s-story-(Maura,-Catharina)_bibis

Chapter Eight
ARES
“I hate you!” Sierra yells from the backseat, before turning to Raven. “Don’t you hate him too?”
Raven nods. “Yes,” she says, before looking at me through the rearview mirror, her gaze
unfocused. “I hate you,” she whispers, her voice breaking.
Something about the way she says it hits me hard, and a dull ache spreads across my chest. I know
they’re both just drunk, but I’ve never seen Raven look at me this way.
“And why is that, Cupcake?”
She looks away and rests her head against Sierra’s, the two of them cuddled up in the backseat. I
sigh and keep my attention on the road as I drive us home, confused. Raven and Sierra mostly keep to
themselves, and the last time I caught them drunk or hungover was when they were in college. Why
the hell did they drink so much tonight? And what the hell did I do to deserve their hatred when it’s
me who picked them up at three in the morning, without a single complaint?
I park my car in front of my condo absentmindedly, and it isn’t until the girls rush out of the car
and toward my front door that I realize I should’ve taken them to the main house instead. Shit.
“Open it!” Sierra orders, her eyes still flashing with anger.
“If I do, will you stop being mad at me?” I can’t even recall the last time my little sister was mad
at me. Even though I’m ten years older than her, she and I have always been close. I’m not sure what’s
going on today.
Raven walks up to me and places her hand on my bicep. “Why won’t you let us in?” she asks, her
voice carrying a hint of agony. Oh fuck.
“I will, sweetheart. Of course I will.”
I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her along to the front door, unlocking it with my
fingerprint. Sierra throws a glare my way as she rushes into my house, kicking off her heels before
running to the kitchen.
“Come on,” I tell Raven, but she shakes her head.
“I don’t wanna walk,” she says. “You carry me.”
I chuckle, surprised by her cute voice and her petulant expression. Raven has never asked me for
help, and she’s never acted spoiled this way. It’s kind of endearing.
“Okay, Cupcake.” I reach down and place one hand behind her knees as I lift her into my arms.