“The same page? Even if it’s the wrong one? She literally just assumed Maria wasn’t keepingherbaby.” Dad had done this before. Agreed with mom just to keep the peace. As a matter of fact, us moving here was one of the few times he had ever laid his foot down. I’m over it. I can see in his eyes that he didn’t think this is right. And I was fucking fed up with my mother’s shit. I turned back to her.
“No. You don’t get to do to Maria what you did to me. You don’t get to sweep the shit under the rug. You don’t get to act like everything is ok. This isn’t about your precious image, Mother. And how dare you suggest Maria give up her baby? Try thinking of literally anyone other than yourself for once.”
My mother stood too. “What are you saying?!”
Maria looked like she wanted to crawl under the table. Maybe she should’ve gone to her room. But I had left this unsaid long enough. “You saw all the signs. Or maybe you were so caught up in the spotlight, you were blinded by it. All the times hetouchedme? Longer than he should? More than he should? You either saw that, or you were too focused on being perfect to notice. I’m not sure which is worse. It’s always been about you, about yourimage, about your reputation. Well, news flash, Mother, life isn’t some fucking fairytale.”
“Holly Elizabeth McCarthy, watch your mouth!”
My dad stood too, his eyes haunted. “Holly, honey.”
I turned to him. “For once in your life, stand up to your wife, Dad. She was supposed to be my mother. She was supposed to protect me. And when she couldn’t do that, she barely knew how to support me in the aftermath, so she didn’t even try. I am over it, Dad. I am tired of being your perfect baby girl. I am not her anymore. And Maria needs someone in the same way I needed someone. So, she stays. End of story.”
I turned to leave and gestured for Maria to come with me. Neither of my parents made a move to stop us. I didn’t know what was next. But I would keep Maria here, where she was safe, or die trying. Silently, Maria followed me to my room where I threw myself onto my bed. She sat next to me and after a few minutes, she whispered quietly, “You didn’t have to do that.”
I didn’t reply, just reached for her hand and squeezed tight as the sound of my parents arguing echoed throughout the house.
Chapter Seven
? Jackson ?
I was supposed to be helping the guys set up for Mrs. Mills’ party. She was ecstatic. Snow was falling heavy outside when I came in, which would make for one hell of a snowball fight later.
I was not ecstatic.
Two weeks ago, a Malibu Menace upended cupcake hell on my bike and helmet. And I still hadn’t managed to get all the glitter out. I was going to have to get a new helmet. I loved this helmet; it was custom, a gift from Mr. Mills.
I scrubbed harder.
Fucking Malibu.
A low laugh dragged my attention to the door, and I found Dalton smirking at me, and wearing a pair of elf ears, which made his almost 6six-foot-tall self look ridiculous. “You still trying to clean that shit?”
I glowered at him in response. “Clearly.”
He squatted next to me, leaned forward to sniff the air, and screwed his nose when he caught a whiff of the evil, sickly sweet vanilla cupcake smell. “Damn, bro. She got you good. Maybe next time, try not to say stupid shit?”
“It was a joke.” A stupid joke, sure. But still.
“Yeah, try telling her that. Or Diego. Shit pissed him off.”
I shook my head and rubbed a microfiber cloth across the top of my helmet. “And he still wants to say he doesn’t have feelings for that chick.”
Dalton shrugged, standing and saying, “Mom wanted me to tell you, and I quote, to quit feeling sorry for yourself and come help. I’m not sure your helmet is salvageable, man. At least you got most of the glitter off the bike.”
For the record, if my Harley had become permanently sparkly, I would’ve lost my shit. I hang my helmet from the handlebars and go to follow him. “What all still needs done?”
“Diego’s working on setting the bonfire up. He’s got a mountain of wood, and I’m mildly concerned he’s going to burn the county down. Mac and Dad are making sure tables and shit are set up. Silas and Cliff are trying to get the garage cleared. Mom is scaring everyone out of the kitchen. Can’t even steal a damn meatball without her seeing. I was gonna see if you wanted to help me hang up the last of the streamers and stuff.”
I gestured for him to lead the way. As we made our way from the garage and outside, I was blinded by the light on the snow. It must have stopped a while ago, but there was easily a foot. It came over my boots and I frowned at it, shaking the cold wet off before it could seep inside and soak my socks. Blue and silver foil, polar bear blow-ups, and the giant oak in the front yard was bare except for about a million twinkle lights. I could hear Mrs. Mills shouting something inside, and over yonder Diego was stacking lumber. The teepee shaped pile was taller than him, and I briefly wondered if Dalton was right. I figured if it was a true danger, Mr. Mills would have stepped in, so we just left him to it.
About two hours later, I was sitting in the kitchen with Dalton and Mac and sipping on a cup of hot chocolate when Diego came in. He immediately glared at me, and I rolled my eyes. “Dude, how long you gonna stay mad at me?”
“Long as I damn well want.”
“Come on, man.”
Dalton slid Diego a cup of cocoa. “He didn’t mean it. Sometimes he just has more balls than brain.”
