"Shhh." Doc leans down, and his voice drops to something quiet and terrifying. I can barely hear him, but Troy goes very, very still. "I'm going to be a doctor. Do you know what that means? It means I know exactly where every nerve cluster in your body is located. I know which tendons, if torn, would leave you unable to grip anything ever again. I know how to cause pain that doesn't leave marks."
"You're fucking crazy?—"
"I know how to make it look like an accident." Doc's voice is almost sweet.
Behind Doc, Rex, and Jeff have stunned looks on their faces as we all listen to my boyfriend.
"So here's what's going to happen. You're going to get up, walk out that door, and never come near Gavin again. Understood?"
Troy doesn't answer.
Doc does something with his hand, I can't see what, and Troy makes a sound like a wounded animal.
"Understood?”
"Yes! Fuck! Yes, okay, I understand!"
Doc releases him and stands in one fluid motion, stepping back and to my side as if nothing had happened. Troy scrambles to his feet, face red, cradling his arm.
"You're insane," he spits. "You're both fucking insane."
"Maybe." Doc's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Want to test it?"
Troy backs up fast.
My father has been watching this whole exchange in stunned silence. Now his attention snaps back to me, and whatever shock was there has curdled into pure rage.
"This is what you chose?" His voice shakes. "This life? These people? Your mother?—"
"Don't." The word comes out low and dangerous. "Don't you dare."
"Your mother would be ashamed!”
He's in my space now, finger jabbing at my chest, face purple with fury. I don't step back. Don't flinch.
"You're right," I say quietly. "She would be ashamed."
Something like triumph flashes in his eyes.
"Because of you."
The triumph dies.
"She would be ashamed of you," I continue, and my voice is steady even though something inside me is cracking. "Of how you treated her. Of how you treated us. Of the scared little bully you've always been."
"How dare?—"
"She used to cry, Dad. Did you know that? After you'd go off on one of your rages. She'd lock herself in the bathroom and cry, and I'd sit outside the door because I was too young to know what else to do."
His mouth opens. Closes.
"So don't you ever, ever, use her memory against me again." My voice breaks on the last word. I don't care. "You don't get to have her. Not anymore."
Silence.
My father stares at me like he's seeing a stranger. Maybe he is.
"We're done," I say. "I don't need you. I don't need your money. I have scholarships. I don't need your approval; I havepeople who actually give a shit about me. And I definitely don't need your bullshit ideas about who I'm supposed to be."
