He pulls out his phone and taps the screen. “Hey, Aaric. Are you still in the city?... Great. There’s been a development. Remember Rebekah Sharp?... Yes, that’s the one. Well, she’s here with me, and she’s staying. If I text you a list, can you pick up some things for me?... Thanks. I’ll explain more later.”
I’m shuddering as he tips me back and meets my gaze. “Aaric is going to get whatever you need. Do you want to help me make a list so I don’t forget anything?”
I stare at him blankly. “What kind of things?”
“Clothes, sweetheart. Toiletries. Shoes. Whatever you need.”
“You can’t do that. I don’t have any money.”
He smiles. “Rebekah, you’re my responsibility now. You don’t need to have any money. I have plenty. You need clothes.”
“What I’m wearing is fine.” It’s ugly, and I have no idea why he would suggest I stay with him. I look like someone who’s been lost in the woods for a decade without proper food or clothes to change into.
“Sweetheart… You can’t wear the same thing forever. You’ll need something clean tomorrow.”
“I’ll just wear this.” Plus, I’ll be dead tomorrow. It won’t matter.
Adam sighs. It’s the first time he has shown any signs of being exasperated, and still, his frustration is minimal. He lifts his phone again and starts typing. I have no idea what he’s saying to his brother, but it takes him forever.
Eventually, he sets his phone aside. “Done. Do you want me to drive you to your house, Rebekah?”
I shake my head.
“Do you have any belongings that are important to you?”
I swallow. “It would be nice to have pictures of my mama and my sister from when we were young, but it’s not worth dying over.”
“No one is going to die. I promise. I texted Asher. He’s headed there now to see if your father is even home.”
I gasp, uncurl, and sit upright. “He can’t.” My voice is shrill. I grab the front of Adam’s shirt and try to shake him. An impossibility, of course, but why won’t he listen to me? “I mean it. Every time someone pulls up the driveway, he grabs his shotgun and stands on the porch with it cocked. He doesn’t like strangers. He doesn’t lower the gun until he’s certain the guest is one of his buddies.”
“Rebekah, Asher will be fine. Trust me. He has more than one weapon on him. He’s not going to get shot.”
I cover my face. “My dad will lose his mind without someone there to fix his dinner.”
“He’s going to have to get over himself. He can fix his own damn dinner.”
I’m shaking. “It doesn’t work that way. Men don’t cook. It’s a woman’s job. It’s my job.”
“Not in our home, Rebekah. There won’t be any jobs designated as women’s work. I’ve been living on my own for ten years. I think I’ve done a pretty good job cooking and cleaning. Is my place a pigsty?”
I gasp. “No. Of course not.”
“Do I look like I’ve missed a meal?”
I shake my head.
“It’s just me and my brothers living here. None of us are married yet. We do all the cooking and cleaning. I’ll continue to do so now that you’re here. I won’t have you ever feeling like a task should be done by you because you’re a woman.”
I stare at him. He’s lost his marbles.
“What do you usually cook for your father?”
“Squirrel or rabbit,” I mumble.
Adam winces. “That’s it?”
“Sometimes he gets supplies, and we have those until they run out. I planted some root vegetables, but they haven’t done well lately.”
