Worse Than Enemies

Hayes does better than that. He drops his glass on the floor, where it shatters. Lucy shrieks in surprise and ducks behind me.

“Hayes, what’s wrong?” his father asks.

“What’s wrong? Can you seriously ask me that?” His face is turning red, his lips pulled back over his teeth. “This is a fucking joke, right? No way you actually married her.”

“Hayes, don’t be unfair,” Mom pleads in her sweetest voice. “Now we’re really, truly a family. And you’ll have a little brother or sister to love.”

His hands flex, and for one nauseating second, I think he’s going to strangle her. I honestly think he’s going to hurt her—and I know what he’s capable of. “Dad, this is a mistake. You’ve made the biggest mistake of your entire fucking life.”

“That is enough from you,” his father barks, stepping away from Mom so he can stand toe-to-toe with his son. Glass crunches under his shoes. “She is my wife. Your stepmother, and the mother of your sibling. You are going to treat her with respect, or you are going to leave this house for good.”

“Fine,” Hayes laughs. “Then I’m gone. I’d rather live anywhere than pretend anything about this is right.” He stomps out of the room while I stare with my mouth still hanging open.

“No, wait.” I turn to Mom, who looks stricken. “Somebody has to stop him.”

“It won’t be me.” Mr. Ambrose turns to Mom. “I’m sorry, Christine. This was supposed to be your big moment.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mom murmurs. “He’ll come around. What about my babies?” She turns to us, and of course I know better than to show my dismay or the sense of dread these sudden announcements have planted in my chest.

Meanwhile, I can’t stop wondering where Hayes will go and when he’ll come back. He can’t leave for good, can he? This is all too bizarre.

I drink my champagne if only because I know what will happen if I don’t. No wonder Mom didn’t get a glass of her own. A baby. It’s not like I didn’t know it was possible, but I still didn’t expect it. I almost feel bad for the kid.

I feel worse for Hayes. I don’t know why. He’s the one who threw a fit and said he was leaving. And he did. The thing is, I’m sure his dad thinks he’ll come back, but I’m not so sure myself. I don’t think Mr. Ambrose has any idea who his son really is.

I duck out of the study when one of the housekeepers comes in to clean up the mess from the shattered glass. I’m already texting Salem before I reach the stairs.

911. Hayes left, serious blow up. Let me know if you hear anything from him.

I send a similar text to Theo and Franky once I reach my room. No specifics, just a warning that he might show up.

What if he doesn’t come back?

What if he actually kills himself this time?

I don’t want to believe he’ll do it, but I can’t pretend the danger isn’t there. I saw what he was like in the car after we left Theo’s. He honestly didn’t care if he died. He would have even taken me with him. He was that determined. And now that I know for sure what’s happening to him, I know what a dangerous, twisted place he’s in. All he needs is the confirmation that my family is now a real, permanent part of his life—and a baby on top of that. He already hates our parents being together. Now, there will be a baby to remind him of it.

I dissolve into tears, curling up in a ball on my bed, clutching my phone in case a message comes through. As a last-ditch effort, I text Hayes.

Please, don’t do anything to hurt yourself. Please, go somewhere safe. Let me know you’re okay.

I don’t expect a response. I only hope he reads it.

It feels like the whole world is ending. What a joke that we were supposed to be happy about the announcement.

I must cry myself to sleep, because the next thing I know, something hits me in the face. I jump, eyes flying open, startled out of a murky dream.

Only to find my mother bending over me, reaching behind me to grab what bounced off my head. She holds it up in front of my face and I recoil in horror at the sight of the Plan B box. “What is this? What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“You went through my trash?”

“How else am I supposed to know what you’re sneaking around doing when I’m not here? You little slut.”

“You don’t understand—”

She lunges, stopping with her face close to mine. “I understand everything. You take advantage of us not being here. You go around fucking anybody who will give you even a little bit of attention. Then you go off and buy this?” She throws the box at me again, but at least this time I can deflect it.