"Oh, finally!" Sally clatters off the stairs as I scoot Jake out of the car.

"God, where have you been?" Josh cries from behind her.

They have been waiting outside; I think the door is locked and none of them remembered to get the spare key unless they were too anxious to wait inside the house.

"Ouch!" Jake grimaces when I hold him a bit tighter around his waist.

I shriek. "Sorry."

He got holy blows on his rib cage. The thought shreds my heart into unpleasant pieces. What if they killed him today? Does he even care?

"What the heck, Linc! What happened?" Josh asks, his face as surprised as Sally's to see Jake in such a state.

"It's a long story. A hand, please?" I ask them.

This is certainly not the way I anticipated closing my amazing weekend at the lake house. It was supposed to be beautiful till the end, but look where we are now.

"I said I can walk, Ara. You don't need to hold me this tight," Jake pleads.

"Sure! Do it! You always do what you want, don't you?" I step away from him.

It infuriates me that even in this situation he still has the guts to act like a big king Lion. I feel like beating the crap out of him but I know I can't, and I definitely won't. I'm so mad at him that I wonder how to control my outrage after everything he'd put us through today.

"Hey," Sally whispers, her eyes settled on him as he slowly clambers up. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Jake answers, making my eyes roll.

He's such a rude brat!

"Okay, let me get the door." Josh jogs up and perhaps he can help his fellow egoistic dude.

We let them be.

"What happened to him?" Sally asks me in a low voice.

"I'll tell you later." I don't feel like talking right now, much less narrating my brother's outlaw part-time job that nearly got us killed.

Illegal gambling? I sigh heavily, trying to put an interlude on this whole mess.

Behind me, the car door slides open and I recall Mario is still here. He gives me a tight smile, finally out of his driver's seat.

"Shouldn't I take him to the hospital?" I ask him.

"No, you can't. You'll have to explain what happened and it won't be a simple matter with the police involved, you and I both know," Mario suggests, and it's true. "I called the doctor, and he should be here in no time. He'll check on him and everything will be fine."

I bob my head, my heart filled with a tad bit of relief. I think they just roughed him up; nothing serious. Otherwise, he wouldn't be growling that he can walk by himself as he just did.

Stubborn fool!

"Thank you, Mario," I tell him truthfully, and I don't care who he is, and what he does for Adrian.

He saved our lives somehow.

"You're welcome. I should go now," he says curtly, his voice still dry and rushed now.

He's probably going back to his boss.

"Um... Is Adrian..." My voice trails, for I don't know what exactly to ask given how we've left things in that warehouse.

"He'll be fine," Mario utters. I nod and smile softly. "You can call him later if you're too worried," he adds, concern lacing his cautious voice.

I blush despite the odds, but the scent of mirth fades into thin air when I recall how angry Adrian must be right now. Maybe he doesn't want to even see my face. I need to give him space for that matter and see if there's anything left for us.

Us? I should get real.

The next hour is filled with gloominess after the brief story I've shared with Sally and Josh regarding Jake's predicament. The doctor is also here to check on him, so we left Josh with them and stayed in the living room, waiting.

"Hey," utters Sally so carefully when she follows me near the window.

I don't move from my stillness. She warmly wraps her arms around me and forces her way into my eyes.

"What?" I breathe tiredly.

"I know what's happening in your head, Ara," she says. "Hell, bitch, you're not gonna punish yourself for his choices, you hear me? You've given your best shot with those kids so whatever they decide to do at some point in their lives is not your fault! Whatever it is."

I laugh stupidly because I'm sure she's not a psychic to know exactly what I'm dealing with at the moment. But she does. Yeah, I feel responsible for whatever is happening right now. Maybe I'm deluding myself thinking giving them food and a measly place to sleep is enough for them.

Maybe they're suffering in silence.

But what am I supposed to do if this is all I can give? How am I supposed to fulfill their wishes if I'm not a genie enough to fit in the damn bottle they desperately want to hold? How am I going to make them understand that I'm doing everything I can to be their guide?

Where have I gone wrong?

I sniff any sign of tears away. "I'm not thinking of that, Sally. But you're right; I can't be held accountable for every choice they make. Although it doesn't mean it hurts less by giving myself such a consolation either. I think I failed the job."

"Ara, please," Sally mutters in a defeated tone of voice, her eyes filled with worries over me.

"It's alright. This too shall pass," I whisper and she pulls me into a hug that allows me to grieve a little more.

It hurts so much when life batters you over and over again. It's like a piercing arrow that you can't pull out for fear of bleeding to death. The only option is to break it and move.

My heart unfurls with joy when the doctor announces that Jake is in no danger. He's treated his wounds and bruises, left him some painkillers, and ordered a full rest for a couple of days.

"Here is my contact. Call me if he feels any discomfort," he says, handing me his business card.

"Sure. Thank you, doctor," I reply.

He nods and fixes his glasses that compliment his round face to perfection. He has a typical doctor look—dull yet assuring—and his age tells plenty about his experience. Fingers steady around his leather briefcase, he slowly takes his leave.

Everyone sighs heavily as though they've been locked up for eternity.

"I'm starving. Who wants pizza?" Josh sasses.

"Not me. I have to make something for Jake to eat first," I say, giving them no time to pity me as I head straight to the kitchen.

I'll save Jake for later. I'm afraid if I barge into his room right now I'll say or do something extreme at the brink of anger. Plus, I still have a lot to think about him.

The doorbell chimes almost violently about five minutes later. I frown, and my gaze catches Josh striding across the living room to respond. I fasten my apron, and out of nowhere, the door bursts open.

"What the fuck, dude?" Josh growls and staggers back.

"Where is he?" It's Adrian.

"Who?" Josh stalks him. "We don't know what you're talking about so can you—"

"Jake! Where is he?" Adrian repeats, merely paying attention to anyone as he picks random glances around the house.

Reflexively, I move from the kitchen to regard his unexpected visit.

"Jake!" he calls loudly.

"Woah, woah, what's happening?" Sally intrudes.

"Adrian, stop." I follow him speedily.

"Jake!" he yells, now heading toward the bedroom side. "Jake!"

"Adrian, please," I plead, fully aware of what he's about to do.

He looks extremely angry and out of character, and I know it has everything to do with Jake. And the stars align unpleasantly when Jake's bedroom door flings open, and he appears in his sickly stance, face-to-face with Adrian.

"What?" he responds.

Adrian breathes soundly. "You and I are going to talk man to man! Now!" he thunders.

Jake swallows hard and I don't know what to do about them. Sally and Josh accompany me in this madness, and together we watch the two men of the hour glaring at one another.

I pull in a breath and start, "Adrian—"

"You stay out of this! All of you!" he snarls, admonishing us like little kids. Strangely all of us seem to obey by saying nothing. "Get inside," he tells Jake and together they flounce in.

The door bangs shut and I hear Adrian yelling all over again, his voice angrier than before. Jake responds, and my head feels heavier each time one of them retorts.

"What the fuck were you thinking, huh? Do you have any idea how dangerous those people can be? Did you even stop to think about what they might do to you?" Adrian shouts.

"No, I didn't!" Jake recoils in an almost similar tone of voice. "Why would I care what they'd do to me when I'm struggling to survive?"

I shut my eyes momentarily, letting his words in. Struggling to survive.

"Surviving, huh?" Adrian scoffs. "And what about your sisters? Maybe you don't care what happens to you, but what do you think they'd feel if anything happened to you today?"

No response from Jake.

"And for your information, kid, they were gonna torture you to death, and still they'd let you breathe. And then go after your family and do whatever comes to your damn mind right now! That's what they do! So you technically don't care about Isla, or Arabella who's giving her everything to make your lives better every day!"

"You don't know anything so just shut up!" Jake booms in a high-pitched voice that communicates his inner angst perfectly. I hold my breath, my whole body tense. "You don't know how it feels like to see her working day and night! Being called names for getting home late! Being pointed fingers because of people like you!"

I gasp for air as goosebumps rush over my skin. Josh and Sally throw me a sympathetic look filled with pity and I choose to look away.

"And you think by illegal gambling you're going to solve that? You're gonna stop them from talking? Pointing fingers?" Adrian bellows. "You're a fucking minor, Jake! Worst case scenario you'll either be arrested and thrown to juvie, if not get killed by those mobsters as you almost did today! That's it!"

"I don't care!" Jake screams maniacally. "You know why? Because she'll have fewer mouths to feed!"

His words tear my heart into pieces. I find myself sobbing quietly. He is so bitter. Why haven't I noticed this before? Is he just ashamed of me or is he dealing with more distress than I probably imagined?

"But rich people like you can't understand anything so just fuck off!" he adds nastily.

I hear Adrian rumbling a loud laughter before he snaps, "I wasn't born with a silver spoon, kid! I wasn't fucking rich at your age! I worked my ass off to be what I am today! I slept in the streets, and I ate in the garbage, so you should be grateful that you have a sister like her to put food on the table day and night! Be very grateful that you have a roof over your head and someone to run to you even when you make a mess! The best thing you can do is make her less worried about you getting killed, you hear me? She's suffered enough so don't add to it!"

My wet eyes meet with Josh's and Sally's who are also as tense as I am, listening attentively.

"You wanna help her pay the bills? Fine! Tell me what else can you do aside from stealing in casinos?" Adrian continues. "What else can that smart head of yours do, kid, tell me! I hear you're a computer genius. Yeah, maybe. But what the fuck can you really do? Hacking a neighbor's Wi-Fi password? Designing video games that you can only play by yourself because you know not even your pals will vouch for them? What can you offer other than whining like a toddler while giving your sister nothing but trouble? Tell me!"

A loud thud startles all of us. Someone threw something and I know who it is.

"Yes, I can do all that!" Jake responds angrily. "I can hack! I can make games! I can fucking do everything so what? Are you gonna hire me?"

I can imagine his stiff neck and puffy face. He hates being looked down on. I don't want this argument to continue; I want them to stop because I can't stand this anymore.

"Good," says Adrian in a suddenly calm voice. "That's what I wanted to hear. That you can do anything without stealing!"

"What are you talking about?" Jake pants and he's not farther from the door.

His breath is very sound.

"Whatever that you're good at, I'll give you a month to do it. Let it be a game, let it be software, anything tradable. Do you think you have the guts to make your own money? Be my guest. I have plenty of resources to pour on anything profitable, so if you're one of them, then I'll gladly do it," Adrian tells him.

I don't think I understand anything but before I can even react to this, the doorbell fuses from the living room. I use the chance to take a mental break, and when I open the door I see two delivery men getting some boxes from their minivan.

"Arabella Lincoln?" one of them asks.

The box in his muscled hands is as big as a television set.

But right from the outside, I can tell that it's one of those large computers with curvy screens.

"Yes, that's me," I reply.

"We have a delivery for Mr. Jake Lincoln," he says, and it dawns on me that this is what Adrian was talking about.

He's bought Jake a whole set of his long-awaited computer gadgets.