Glass Heart Hero: A Dark High School Romance by Lindsey Iler (read with me .TXT) 📗

the oldest by two minutes, and she loves nothing more than reminding her sister of this fact. Charlie has a domineering personality. She’s strong and ruthless, compared to Tatum’s softer demeanor.

I knock once and open the door.

“No hug for your big brother, then?” I close the door, and it slams behind me, startling them.

Tatum flings the headphones I’m certain I sent her for Christmas, while Charlie gawks at me from across the room. They look so much older than the last time I saw them.

“What are you doing here?” Tatum sits up. The attitude is something I appreciate. I expect nothing more from a twelve-year-old girl.

“You have every right to be mad at me.” I hold up my hands, hoping to tread lightly with them.

These girls deserve to hate me. I did the one thing I promised I’d never do. I abandoned them.

“Let me guess, Dotty told you she saw us and basically kicked your ass until you felt guilty enough to come see us,” Charlie accuses.

“Excuse me, when did you start cussing?” I lean against the bookshelf, crossing my legs at my ankles and folding my arms over my chest. It’s my best attempt to look the part of the protective big brother.

“Since you showed up today.” Charlie rolls her eyes, completely fed up with me being in her space.

“Listen, you want to cuss, don’t let Aunt Emily hear you. She’ll wash your mouth out with dish soap,” I warn.

“Do you know this from experience?” Tatum rolls off the bed and grabs a book from the shelf. Before she can walk away, I jerk her into my chest, hugging her. “I miss you.” Her voice breaks in the middle of her whispered words.

“I miss you, too, Tatum.” I cup the top of her head, running my fingers over her blonde hair.

I refuse to let Aunt Emily send them to Glass Heart Academy. They’re at a public school. There aren’t many opportunities for them to flourish there, but at least I know they aren’t being corrupted by the institution that has a vise grip on me. It’s better this way. They resent me for it.

“Well, I don’t miss you!” Charlie yells.

“Don’t listen to her. She has. She’s just strong willed.”

“Let me guess, you’ve heard Aunt Emily say that exact same thing?” I laugh at the maturity in Tatum’s voice.

“Maybe.” She wiggles until I release her, then she sits on the edge of her bed.

I walk over to Charlie, her head hung low enough that her hair falls around her face, shielding her as she intends. I fall to my knees in front of her, bending until she gives me enough space to see her expression.

Unshed tears in my sister’s eyes are enough to break me.

“Listen to me, okay?” I brush her hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, exactly?” Charlie’s head lifts, and a single tear falls down her cheek.

“You want me to say it?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Me, too,” Tatum says.

I motion for Tatum to join us and drag Charlie’s desk chair over to the bedside. We sit in silence for a minute until I’m ready to say everything I need to say.

“You’re almost thirteen now, and that means you’re old enough to be honest with.” I take a deep breath, releasing it to prepare for the reality I’m about to slap them in the face with. “I haven’t been around because it can be hard for me.”

“Because of Mom?” Tatum asks, her young heart pulsing through her eyes.

“Yes, because of Mom. I know you don’t remember her that much, and all you have left is photos.” I wave my hand at the shelves filled with frames. Most are ones of them with their friends, but one in particular stands out. My mom holds both of them in her arms, a bright and happy smile plastered on her face.

“She left us.” Charlie bursts from the mattress like her skin’s on fire, but I grab her arms and bring her to sit on the edge of the bed. “Ouch! What was that for?”

“She didn’t leave us. She struggled long before you two blessed this earth. She fought for you, and don’t ever think differently.”

“She left us. You can spin it any way you want, but she’s gone.” Charlie crosses her arms over her chest, glancing away, too afraid of being seen. This is a move I know far too well.

“You kept her alive for as long as she could stay here. You two did that.” I point between them.

“And what did you do?”

“I promised her I would look after you.”

“Seems broken promises are a family trait then, huh?” Charlie grabs the photo of our mother holding them, staring into it as if she could actually speak to our mom through it. “Having a baby is an unsaid promise to take care of them, to ensure they are happy and healthy. She broke that promise the minute she made the choice she did.”

“You don’t understand, but one day, you may. One day, you may wake up, and it will be too heavy. The difference between her and you is, I won’t allow you to jump over the ledge. I won’t allow you to tumble into the abyss before it’s too late.” I reach for Charlie, feeling the heaviness in her before she can.

“No, the difference is that I’m not weak like her.” She holds up the frame and throws it over my shoulder. The glass shatters on the carpet, and she falls with them. Cries rack her chest. “She was weak, too weak to stay alive for me.”

I fall to the floor, wrapping her body within my own. She’s small in my arms, reminding me of when I would hold her to give my mom a break.

“Why’d she have to go?” Charlie screams. “Why couldn’t she hold on for me?”

“If she could, she would have, Char.” I rock us in place, hoping to ease both our souls. It doesn’t work until a small hand grips tight to my shoulder, and Tatum somehow