18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 377

Brandon wolfed down two bowls of spaghetti, the carbs filling him up enough to regain a semblance of dignity. Gone was the ravenous beast; in its place, a gentleman with poise.

But the fire in his voice remained, "Sis, I caught a car thief."

Stella almost choked on her pasta, coughing violently. "Cough... cough cough..." she sputtered, barely managing to swallow.

Ungrateful punk, she thought. She'd even given him back half the meds, yet he was still hung up on the car. Nine years, and he still wouldn't let it go!

She was so close to smashing her bowl over his head. If not for the three souped-up Mustangs, she wouldn't have even considered giving back those meds.

But she forced a smile, masking her irritation. "Really? Who was it?"

"He got away," Brandon muttered between bites, "but if I get my hands on those jerks, I'll drink their blood and feast on their flesh. I'll chop off their heads and use them as soccer balls!"

Stella had enough, her tone turning icy. "Cars like that aren't unique, and who's to say it was yours?"

"I'd recognize that car even if it were ashes," Brandon shot back, burning with indignation. "Sure, there are more worldwide, but only one in the country!"

Stella wanted to slap him. "And how do you know it's the only one in the country?"

"My cousin handled the paperwork, it was the first one here."

Stella rolled her eyes. "Your cousin's a nutcase, taking meds daily. You believe everything he says?"

But Brandon was steadfast. "He might be sick, but he wouldn't lie about this."

Sensing Stella's growing frustration, Jasper chimed in. "Maybe it was smuggled in, or the paperwork wasn't processed yet. Predators are armored vehicles; the military might have them, and their records are top secret, beyond your cousin's reach."

Brandon paused, considering the logic but still felt the car was his. "Sis, you wouldn't get it. That car is mine; I can smell it."

Stella twisted the knife. "Oh, you're so capable. How come you're in such a sorry state now?"

Enough was enough. Stella's guilt and conscience had run dry. If not for old times' sake, she'd have twisted his head off.

Maybe her words were too harsh. Brandon's sorrow welled up, and he couldn't finish his spaghetti. "Yeah, I'm a waste of space without Dad's shadow, worse than trash."

In the end, he was just a second-generation rich kid, living off his father's name. His sister's words pierced him, draining his spirit.

Stella felt a pang of pity. "Even if you got the car back, could you really keep it safe?"

Brandon's heart bled. Indeed, he couldn't.

Stella pressed on. "Complaining gets you nowhere. When you're strong enough, jets and cannons will be within reach."

The logic was sound, but Brandon knew his limits. He had arrived full of confidence, only to be slapped by reality.