“My mom didn’t get along with my coach, so she didn’t come. In fact, she kept me from competing junior year. It’s why we lost. They had to put someone in my place at the last minute. Someone who… she just couldn’t handle the routine. She fell twice and started sobbing the minute the routine ended. They took fifth. Our lowest during my time on the squad. The whole team was crushed. It was devastating.”
Arya stares at a picture of herself with her mom. “If someone doesn’t give Mom credit for making me what I am, or worse, if someone stands up for me against her, she gets furious. And then she gets even. My high school coach made the mistake of calling my mom out. When I wouldn’t quit the team, my mom was irate. If my dad hadn’t caved in and signed my permission slip to be on the team as a senior, I wouldn’t even have been able to. My mom refused to sign it.”
That lands like an avalanche, burying the possibility that her mother’s just immature. Prioritizing spite over a daughter’s dreams… fucking vicious.
“That last year I realized she makes it hard for me to succeed. Even when I was little, she would make me help her or her friends with things. When I got behind on homework or studying, she’d blame me for putting off my schoolwork until the last minute. For a long time, I thought my mediocre grades were my fault. The whole family did. I got so many work-ethic lectures from my dad. Looking back, it’s crazy. I kill it on standardized tests. There’s no way I should’ve struggled. But I couldn’t see things clearly. Maybe I didn’t want to.”
Her hand moves to her stomach and presses against it, as though it’s giving her a stomachache to talk about this.
“I think she loves me,” Arya whispers. “But it’s complicated.” Exhaling a heavy sigh, she shrugs. Then she looks up at me with a speculative expression. “You didn’t go along the way you were supposed to, so she’ll probably start throwing shade at you too now. It’ll be subtle at first and just to my dad. Then your uncle will hear some things.” The corner of her mouth curls down in a wry frown. “Not even that gorgeous, beardless face will save you.”
My brow arches. She’s herself again now, not a wounded girl lashing out.
“Whatever, right?” Arya says. “Just go. I’ll grab a ride back with Eden and Tavi. She already hates them, and there’s no way she can hurt them, so it’s fine. Tavi texted. They’ll be by in an hour to get me. Do me a favor though. Keep what you know about me to yourself. I don’t need any bullshit pats on the head from trust-fund girls who think their lives are so golden. I’m fine.”
“Done?”
She purses her lips and nods.
“Get your coat on. It’s time to go.”
Her eyes rise to meet mine. There’s no gratitude or relief. Her expression is carefully blank.
“Now that I see how it is, I get it. You can’t stay here.” I flip my hand over to emphasize the point. “But when you’re with your friends, you don’t stay with them either. So you’re coming home with me.”
“It’ll make my mother angrier. Just so you know.”
I incline my head and speak in a low, firm voice. “If Casanova doesn’t scare me, what chance do you think your five-foot-six piranha of a mother has of doing it? If she wants to try to fuck with me, let her. It won’t work. There’s only one Peralta in my life with leverage, and I’m looking at her.”
30
ARYA
I’m stunned.
Erik said I’d be safer at my parents’ house, he cut off his facial hair to make a good impression, and he admitted that he did illegal violent things to help his own mom. So of course, I was sure he would side with my mother when it came to my staying there. I still can’t believe he didn’t.
My mom’s gaslighting always works on new people. I can’t believe Erik saw through it so fast.
I don’t say much on the drive back to Granthorpe because I’m not sure whattosay.
When we’re back at his place, he reviews security footage on his tablet before exiting the truck.
I follow him inside the building. “I’m surprised you brought me back here.”
“I stopped the mail. Security system is activated, and the police insist they’ll do regular patrols. Should be all right here tonight. Besides…” He hauls off his sweater, causing static that makes strands of hair stand out as he unbuttons his shirt. “We need privacy.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “What’s on your mind?”
“Taking you to bed. Get undressed.”
My whole body vibrates like a tuning fork at the tone of his voice. “I don’t think I’m up for sex right now. I… don’t know what I want to do.”
“You can ponder that while I’m inside you. Or while you’re facedown over my lap with a bright red ass. Your choice.” There isn’t an ounce of compassion in the Viking’s tone. Secretly, I’m glad. The fact that he can be so rough is exactly why my mom couldn’t steamroll him.
My body heats with a mixture of lust and shame for wanting him despite what happened.
“Erik…”
