Fire burns in her eyes. I don’t blame her. It’s fucked up really.
Marlowe closes in and knees me in the groin, effectively getting me to drop her hands. I bend instantly, a flash of white-hot pain exploding through my spine. My knees nearly buckle as I stagger back, the world narrowing to a single, blinding pulse behind my eyes.
“Don’t youevertouch me again,” she seethes. “Fuck! You stupid fucking men are all the same!”
I straighten slowly, the fire in my gut rising, rage creeping in behind the pain and wrapping around my ribs. She has no idea how close I am to completely losing my shit. How thin the threadis that keeps me steady. I want to grab something and hurl it against the fucking wall.
She turns away, wiping her hands on her jeans like touching me left something filthy on her skin. “You are taking me to my father’s place. Right now.” Tears stream down her cheeks and she’s gasping. “And then I’m out of here. I never want to see you again.” She doesn’t wait for me to respond. She spins and storms toward the door, her steps clipped, her body radiating fury.
Cody appears in the doorway just as she pushes past him, her shoulder clipping his arm. He watches her go, then turns back to me, amusement flickering in his eyes. “What’s the story with her?” His mouth pulls into a smirk. “She’s hot as fuck.” He snorts, shaking his head. “There’s no way she’s related to Vick.”
I don’t respond.
I can still feel her against me, still taste her, still hear the way her breath caught just before she pulled away.
Everything feels wrong. Everything is wrong.
Cody glances back through the door, watching her go, then swings his gaze back to me, his expression shifting. His brows lift, his lips twitch, and I already know what’s coming before he even opens his mouth. “Oh shit,” he says, dragging out the words. “You really did sleep with her, didn’t you?”
I glare at him. “Shut up.”
His grin widens. “No, I’m right. You screwed herandyou like her. A lot. Holy shit.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snap louder.
He laughs, but it’s short-lived. I am not in the mood for his bullshit. “I have to take her to get the money,” I say, my voice tight, my head already pounding with everything that has gone wrong today. “Are you going to be okay to watch Mom this time?”
Cody’s smirk vanishes. “It wasn’t my fault she left.”
Rage rises inside me before I can stop it. I want him to feel it. I want him to feel as shitty as I do right now. “Wasn’t your fault?” I scoff. “She walked right out of this house. Alone. At night. And where the hell were you?”
Cody’s shoulders pull back, his face hardening. “I was here, Damian. You think I wasn’t watching her? You think I wasn’t trying?”
“Obviously not hard enough.”
Cody’s face twists, something raw and angry flashing across his eyes. “None of us thought she was this bad. Just go finish this and then we can deal with Mom.”
“What if the money is gone?” I ask, my voice low, my stomach tightening at the thought. “I don’t trust her.”
Cody smirks, leaning against the counter like he hasn’t just pissed me off enough for one day. “Well, it looks like you and her are close.”
The words hit wrong. They push at something inside me that is already stretched too tight, already about to snap. I round on him, my blood boiling. “Shut the fuck up, Cody.”
His smirk doesn’t fade, but something flickers behind his eyes. He knows he got to me.
I don’t want this. I want to be done with this. I want this over. I want the money to be where it’s supposed to be, I want Vick out of my life, and I want Marlowe to?—
I can’t think about what I want from Marlowe. My jaw locks, and I shove away from the counter, storming out of the kitchen and into the living room.
Bridger and Mom sit on the couch, the TV murmuring softly in the background. Mom’s eyes are distant, fixed on something that doesn’t exist, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Bridger looks up, his brows drawing together the second he sees me.
“I’m taking her to Vick’s,” I say, my voice sharp, final.
Bridger pushes up from the couch. “I’ll come with you.”
“No.” The word comes fast, automatic. I need to do this alone.
Bridger doesn’t sit back down. “Bro, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
