My eyes sting because I barely recognize the woman in front of me. This wasn’t the same person who attended every school function, baked the best treats at any holiday, or patiently taught me how to drive. The woman before me is someone else.
I clear my throat and swallow. “Okay.”
My heart thunders in my chest as I wait for her to apologize. To tell me she didn’t mean to be cruel. I pause, holding out to see if my mom will show her face again, chasing off this lady I don’t know.
She falls back onto the pillows, dragging one over her face. “Close the door on your way out,” she mutters, the sound muffled.
I step out of her room and quietly close the door behind me with a soft click. Pain lances across my chest, only to be chased away by anger.
This is his fault.
Dad.
He severed himself from our family, and Mom’s been on a downward spiral ever since. I’m left here to stitch it all back together again, and I can’t. I fucking can’t. I don’t know how to.
The familiar fury I’d welcomed in this summer and let fuel me comes surging in like a wildfire, decimating parts of me I’d thought were trying to heal. Wrath is like a beast roaring inside me, ravenous and bloodthirsty.
I want him to pay for taking away my mother when he walked away from us.
I want him to hurt like we do.
I want to destroy him like he did with me and Carrie and Mom, but worse.
So, back to my original plan.
Make him pay. Make them pay.
Starting with Alis.
Alister
Ginger and Nutmeg yap, running in excited circles around my feet as they wait for me to answer the door. Figuring it’s Canyon coming for dinner, I fling it open, a smile already tugging at my lips.
It is Canyon.
But gone is the guy who’s been getting inside my head, flirting with me, and challenging me at every turn.
We’re back to the crazy asshole.
His handsome face is twisted into a hateful sneer, his blue eyes nearly glowing with rage. Both fists are clenched at his sides, veins popping out of his arms like he’s going to transform into a supervillain at any second. The muscles on his neck are taut and straining. I swear to fuck steam is coming out of his nose.
Someone’s about to get their ass kicked.
I take a step backward, but as though he’s tethered to me, he takes one forward, entering my house. Another step is mirrored by him. He flings the door closed with a loud slam, ignoring the two furballs barking in excitement at our feet. When my ass bumps against the banister to the stairs, I lift my chin, meeting his glare.
“What’s your problem?” I bark out, my own anger catching fire inside me.
His hand seizes my jaw in a punishing grip as he painfully digs his fingers into my flesh. I grab hold of his T-shirt to push him away, but he crowds closer, pinning me to the banister with his massive frame. My heart stutters in my chest in a mixture of healthy fear and seriously unhealthy lust.
“You,” he snarls, his nostrils flaring at the word as though it tastes sour on his tongue. “Your father. Mine.” His fingers tighten, making a soft whimper escape me. “The three of you are homewreckers.”
I struggle against his hold, both of my hands joining the fight to push him away from me. He leans into me, letting his weight press against me so I can feel his strength and power. I’m not going anywhere until he releases me.
“Fuck off, bro,” I hiss. “You’re not welcome here.”
“You don’t get to tell me to leave—”
“I said get the hell out!” I land a punch in his side, making him gasp for breath. His grip loosens enough for me to slip out of his hold, ducking around him and darting up the stairs. Thunderous footsteps sound behind me. I rush down the hallway and right into my studio. The door is nearly closed behind me when his muscular arm slides in, and he uses his strength to push into the room with me. Stumbling back a few steps, I curse the fact I’ve just trapped myself in closed quarters with a charging bull. He flings the door closed, the loud slamming echoing in my ears.
I glance over at my sculpture I’ve been working on late at night when I can’t sleep. It’s taken me a couple of days to get the shape of it right. Based on how pissed Canyon is, I see how this is going to go down.
As though he can read my mind, he laughs, cold and cruel. “I’m not going to break your shit. I’d rather break you.”
I put space between us, standing on the other side of a table. “What the hell happened, man? We were cool, and now we…aren’t?”