And there it is. The real crux of our fractured relationship. The reason why Sharon felt justified pimping me out when she discovered my father’s money was all tied up into my trust fund, prepaid collegefees, and a yearly allowance that is handled by an external account she wasn’t aware of. I mean, what did she expect?
“Hmmm, I suppose you’re right. And guess what? I gave it all away.” Sharon’s face turns to a shade of beetroot, the same crazed look in her eyes as the night she’d found me freshly shaven and finally free. If I had thought writing those checks to abused children’s charities had helped to alleviate some of my grief, it’s nothing compared to how watching my self-proclaimed mother’s internal seizure is healing old wounds in my battered soul.
The waiters return at that moment with our main courses balanced on the palms of their right hands. Minuscule versions of duck confit are placed in front of each of us, but Sharon is too busy twitching and seething to notice. Spearing a teeny tiny carrot on my fork, I notice Garrett glaring at his food as if it will magically transform into a pizza. Across the table, Huxley fails to suppress a yawn behind his hand, and Dax follows suit. Wyatt looks like he’s on the verge of snapping, the veins pulled tight in his neck.
Guilt swamps me that my brothers and Avery have been dragged to my childhood home alongside me, but at the same time, I wouldn’t survive staying here on my own. If boredom doesn’t kill me first, my nightmares sure will.
To his credit, Richard clears his throat and tries to diffuse the tension cracking around the table, although he only makes it worse. “Look, I know there is some… history here, but while staying at this house, you will treat and talk to your mother respectfully.”
Garrett’s grip tightens on my thigh, more likely to restrain himself from flying into a rage., but I pat him gently in a silent command to stand down. I’ve got this one.
“She is no mother of mine. I feel more bonded to the surrogate who carried me, and I don’t even know her name.” Richard isn’t satisfied with my response and takes it upon himself to act like a father figure I don’t need.
“Now listen here, your mother has been through a lot in her previous marriages. She’s had to work hard to support herself and keep this house afloat after you left. Her methods may be unsavory at times,” he winces at her sharp glare, “but she is an incredibly resilient woman. And I’ll have you know?—”
By now, I’ve tuned out completely. My hand on Garrett’s turns into a tight fist, which he returns. My pulse kicks up a notch at the sheer audacity of some stranger sitting in my dad’s house and telling me how incredible the woman who whored me out for it is. My blood, sweat, and tears quite literally went into keeping her here. My stomach rolls again, and I shove the plate away sharply.
Since the Shadowed Souls welcomed me into their group, I’ve tried to leave my desire for physical aggression behind. There was a short period of time where anyone who looked at me too long would meet the end of my fist, my actions driven by misplaced anger. I haven’t felt the need to lash out like that in a long time, until tonight.
Tonight, I’d happily bust my stitches to launch myself across this table and choke out the conceited son-of-a-bitch still lecturing me about Sharon’s resilience. Visions of each and every way I could hurt Richard are soothing my twisted soul. I could pummel him with my fists, smash a vase over his head, and strangle him with the curtain tie. The list goes on.
Sure, he would be taking the brunt of my anger on Sharon’s behalf, because I don’t hit women, even if they are psychotic bitches. It would serve a fleeting purpose. To prove I’m not the vulnerable kid I used to be, but I can’t even bring myself to do that. Instead, I remember the wasted tears and the nights spent screaming. The panic attacks and the voices in my head that tell me I’ll never be enough.
Sharon has tried to break me down, and for the past few years, I believe she has succeeded. But instead of lashing out, I exhale through my parted lips and release Garrett’s clenched fist. I roll my shoulders, feeling lighter than I have in years. I decide right here and now to cut the ties, severing her manipulation once and for all. She can’t affect me anymore.
Our untouched plates are cleared, and I use the table to push myself upright. I’ve done what I needed to do, quickly getting the clarity I wanted. Sharon won’t be phased by harsh words or insults. Nothing I say or do will penetrate her sense of entitlement. The only way to get under Sharon’s skin is by taking away what she really cares about. Her money and popularity.
That’s why she hates me. I ruined her precious reputation when I refused to be her pretty, angelic boy and transformed myself into amenacing skinhead that bites back. I was no longermarketable, and I intend to stay that way.
“You can’t leave yet. Dinner has only just begun,” Sharon instantly chastises me. I’m sure there’s plenty more she’d like to say, plenty more slander she’s ready to fire at me like bullets to my psyche, but my meds are beginning to wear off, and my abdomen is starting to ache. I’ve found closure in the place I knew it always was, with those sitting around the table who represent my true family.
The tightness of her lips and twitch in her left eye all betray just how annoyed she is, and I bathe in that small victory for one more moment. Her outer shell is tougher than ice, but once it cracks, it shatters.
“It’s my house. I can do what I like.” My reply sends a further flare of anger through her brown eyes, her mouth opening and closing a few times like a fish out of water. Another fun clause of my father’s will; the mansion becomes mine when I turn twenty-one later this year, and I won’t waste a second putting it up for sale. There are too many memories in these walls that need to be forgotten. “Besides, I’ve got an entire feast right here.”
I stroke the length of Garrett’s throat with my finger, tipping his chin up to be captivated by his smile. Finishing his drink, he rises and links his fingers through mine. Turning towards the door, a sea of blue catches my attention. Offering my free hand out to Avery, she blinks a few times before accepting, a knowing smile lifting her lips as I gently tug her to her feet.
“You too, Swan. You’re my dessert.”
Chapter Thirty Four
Despite his obvious discomfort, Axel pulls Garret and me into a darkened room with an iron-tight grip on our fingers. The musty, familiar scent of aged paper and ink wraps around me like a cloak, mingling with the faintest hint of wood smoke from the dormant fireplace. Moonlight filters through the arched window, casting silvery patterns across the room, illuminating the black leather sofa and matching armchairs. The space is perfectly secluded from the power plays and cruel intentions lingering outside.
Holding the straps on my heels, I step onto the circular sheepskin rug, its soft fibers curling around my toes, grounding me in the moment. Axel releases our hands and flicks on a tall lamp, its glow pooling around him as he sinks into one of the armchairs whilst clutching his side.
“No offense, Axe, but you don’t really seem to be ready for… that.” I point to the hauntedly handsome man standing beside me. Garrett’s hair flicks forward, shielding the intensity of his black eyes. There’s no way he could be gentle enough, especially not after the tensions of the evening and the simple fact that it’s been far too long since either of them have been intimate.
“Oh, I’m not joining in, physically,” Axel smiles. As best as he’s able, he leans back in the armchair and steeples his fingers almost casually over hisstomach. I throw a look to Garrett, who’s standing rigidly straight beside me with a determined clench to his jaw.
“I want to wait,” he states. My brows shoot up. “I want you to be involved.”
“Well, I’m right here, and I promise you, I’m very much involved. Some might even use the term ‘in charge’.” A tremor of surprise ignites within me. Garrett tilts his head, keeping his posture stiff. Flickers of lust and uncertainty pass across his half-lit face. “Now, both of you, strip.”
Heat floods my cheeks, and I catch my bottom lip between my teeth, feeling a thrill of excitement coil in my stomach. After so many weeks of him being too injured to take control, Axel’s dominating presence is intoxicating. I can’t deny him.
Slowly, I reach up, sliding one strap of my dress down my shoulder, then the other, never breaking eye contact with him. Garrett hesitates a beat longer before yanking his tie loose. The fabric of my dress pools at my feet, leaving me in nothing but my lace thong. My fingers hook under the delicate waistband, and I slide it down my thighs, stepping out of it and kicking it aside. Beside me, Garrett shrugs off his slacks and boxers, his movements rough and jerky.
“All of it, Garrett,” Axel demands. My eyes flicker to the shirt still clinging to Garrett’s shoulders, fully buttoned to his crotch. He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple scraping the collar. There’s a slight tremble to his hands, other than that, he appears unaffected. Although I know better.
