My vision wavers, tears of fright filling my eyes. I can’t think what to say. He’s so angry. Any version I give him could be the wrong one.
I stick to the bare bones. “I’m eighteen, and I spent the weekend with a friend. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
For a long moment, we stare at each other. Then Bryan straightens, smoothing down his shirt with trembling hands.
“Go to your room.” The coldness returns to his voice. “We’ll discuss this again when you’re ready to tell the truth.”
I bolt from the kitchen, taking the stairs two at a time. My hands shake as I prop the dresser chair under the handle as a makeshift lock.
It’s the safest I’ll get tonight.
Stepping away, I survey the room. Everything looks normal. My bed is unmade, sheets trailing on the floor. My school bag is still full of sheet music and textbooks from Friday’s lessons. The curtains hang half-open, letting in slivers of streetlight.
I rub my jaw where the imprints of Bryan’s fingertips still pulse. What happens if this is the final straw, and he throws me out?
My phone is under the pillow, the battery just under twenty percent. My hands shake so badly, it takes both to hold it steady.
I can’t call Damien. If I do, he’ll come running, but Bryan’s already in crisis, it could tip him right over the edge.
There’s only one other person I can think of. Someone who could help.
I open my recent contacts list and press my mother’s number.
It rings once, then a robotic voice comes on.“The person you’ve dialled is unavailable.”
I try again, typing the number out from memory this time. The same result.
She’s blocked me.
There’s no help coming. Whatever happens from now on, I’ll make happen myself.
Kneeling, I unlock the bottom drawer. The cash is still safely tucked in there and I relax back onto my heels, clasping the fat envelope against my chest.
The local campsite has cheap single cabins for rent. Whatever happens tomorrow with Damien, with Bryan, I have options.
I split the money, placing half in my schoolbag, half back in the locked drawer. Then I change into a t-shirt and sweats, needing more protection than my usual shirt.
When I crawl into bed, I take the bag under the covers with me, hugging it as my pulse settles back into its normal rhythm.
A talisman against trouble.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
DAMIEN
“Damien?”
Chelsea’s voice carries across the foyer before I see her, brow already drawn into a frown. Her hair is styled in tight waves, makeup flawless. Perfectly put together even when no one’s watching.
She dismisses the staff member who answered my knock with a flick of her fingers, gaze following as the woman scurries from the room. When Chelsea reaches me, she moves in for a kiss, and I turn my head so her lips lands on my cheek.
Her smile falters for a moment before she recovers. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight. What’s going on?”
“We’re finished,” I say simply. “Whatever this relationship was, it’s over.”
She stills completely, then laughs. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“No.”
