I stared in stunned silence as his anger practically filled the room between us.
Anger swirled around him like a storm, and I’d never seen him as scary until right that minute.
He walked right up to me, pointed his finger in my face, and said, “You killed my sister.”
His words stunned me silent for a few short seconds. Long enough to make him angrier at my lack of response.
I blinked. “I did what?”
I hadn’t done that…had I?
Did I black out and forget a few hours?
“There was a reason I didn’t want her here, you fucking bitch,” he hissed, his eyes so cold that I could barely look at them. “She can’t live in Montana. She has anemia and the fuckin’ world’s worst asthma. I have nowhere else to go. It was better if she thought I was dead.”
I opened my mouth and closed it, unsure what to say or think about that.
My stomach sank. “I didn’t think…”
“No, we clearly can tell that you didn’t.” He pushed his finger into my chest, not to the point of pain or anything, but not gently, either. “Stay out of my fucking life. And if you tell anyone about me or the rest of the crew, I’ll tell everyone you killed your own mom.” He swept his eyes up and down the length of me. “And let’s just say, I don’t think you’d last too long in jail.”
I blanched.
I had killed my own mother.
I may not have been the only one to do it, but I’d been a part of the reason she was no longer breathing.
“Creed…”
He tossed me one last scathing glare over his shoulder and then left without another word.
I scrubbed my face with my hands as he kicked the door closed behind him only for it to bounce back open again. The door lock was definitely busted.
I watched him walk down the walk to his truck, then pull out his phone and press it to his ear.
He said a few words into his phone, gestured angrily at the air in front of him, then stomped around his truck to his door.
He started it up, backed into my yard, barely missing my mailbox, then took off with a peel of rubber.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
The door banged against the wall again, and I stared at it with my stomach rolling.
Would I have done the same thing had I known that she wouldn’t be able to last out here? Probably.
That didn’t make the heaviness in my heart feel any better, though.
The door banged a third time, and I walked to it and tried to close it.
It didn’t so much as catch in the slightest.
I fingered the splintered wood beside the door and realized that this would be too much for me to handle on my own.
And I was sure Stacy wouldn’t be willing to help me fix it after I quit on him today.
Plus, I didn’t really want to invite him into my place anyway.
