“Did you hear that?” William said sharply, turning to Matt and Mia. “She’s learned her lesson, he says. Because he’s such an expert on normal teenage behavior,” he laughed mirthlessly. “Are you even hearing yourself? How do you know she’s not going to get hooked on something and end up just like you, out there running wild for everyone to see?” Ah, of course, his priority was the same as it always was—protecting his fucking reputation.
“What’s the matter, William? Are you worried about your bottom line? Or maybe about the reporters who are always circling?” I taunted him with a cold smile. “I can see the headlines now: ‘Children of CEO William Miller, embroiled in yet another scandal.’” I let out a laugh and pulled a cigarette from the pack, tucking it between my lips before I continued. “I still remember the army of overpaid lawyers you needed to make everything disappear so quick after the cops arrested my babysitter…” I lit my cigarette and advanced on him until our razor-sharp stares aligned perfectly. “You remember my babysitter, right? The woman who abused me. The one you got sofriendlywith.” I blew a cloud of smoke into his face, but he remained impassive.
“You’re talking crap,” he said, shaking his head as though amused. “Your mother never believed that particular story, and do you know why?” He cut his eyes at his ex-wife before looking back at me. “Because, back then, she knew better than to listen to a disturbed child, just like she isn’t going to listen to a raving lunatic now,” he sneered. I continued smoking, unmoved, as I stared into his eyes.
I’d never look away. He was lucky I hadn’t already kicked his ass.
“She was the reason I was ‘a disturbed child.’ And you were fucking her while your wife was pregnant with Chloe,” I shot back tauntingly.
Go on, William, let your monster out, I thought.
I wanted him to expose his worst side so I’d have a valid reason to hit him.
“You’ve always had such an imagination, ever since you were a boy,” he taunted me, licking his lower lip. He was getting antsy; I could see it in his tense muscles and tight jaw.
“Oh, yeah. Guess I imagined these, too…” I pushed the sleeve of my sweatshirt up roughly and exposed the three small scars on my left forearm. William creased up his forehead and took a step back, speechless. There was nothing more to say.
I shoved my way past him and crossed the living room. Then, without so much as a glance at my mother or that asshole Matt, I raced up the stairs. Despite the powerful urge to shower that I was feeling, I instead headed for Chloe’s room and went in without knocking. I spotted Alyssa on the end of the bed first and then Logan, stretched out beside our sister.
“Hey, there you are.” My brother grinned at me and threw a stuffed animal in my direction, which I dodged easily. I gave him a thin, sad smile and moved closer, my eyes locked on Chloe, who still seemed subdued. Alyssa abruptly cleared her throat and got up awkwardly, fixing her dress.
“I’ll let you all have a minute,” she said, correctly sensing that she was one person too many in that room. I lay down on the bed next to my siblings and let out a long sigh.
“Are you mad at me?” Chloe whispered as she cuddled closer to my chest, under her pink covers with the weird bunny-shaped pattern.
“I’m not mad, no. Blackout pissed? Yes.” I stroked her blond hair. She was sandwiched between me and Logan, and she looked back and forth at us. “But we’ll talk about all that tomorrow,” I continued wearily.
“That’s right. You’ll have to tell us everything,” Logan put in, propping himself up on his elbow.
“I shouldn’t have gone to the party. I don’t remember much. I drank something, and then I passed out, and when I woke up I was in that trunk, and…” Chloe began to sob, shaking like a leaf. Seeing the pain she was in only fueled my rage.
No one was ever supposed to lay a hand on my siblings.
“Shh… It’s over now.” I pressed a kiss to her hair. I could feel her tears wetting my neck and her fingers digging into my sweatshirt. I knew exactly what she was trying to say:“Stay here. With me.”
And I would.
For them, I would always stay.
I waited a while longer, stroking her hair until she had fallen into a deep sleep. I disentangled myself and got up, antsy with the intense need to wash myself. As if everything that had gone down in the past few hours wasn’t enough, my tics were flaring up again as if to remind me just how far I was from being a normal human being. I left Chloe to Logan and shut myself up in my room. I took a long shower and then put on a pair of black jeans with a black hoodie. As I did so, I reflected on the encounter I’d just had with my father; his cruel words, my impenetrability…and I smiled. I had grown accustomed to that treatment, his lack of care, and the intense disdain he reserved just for me for years and years now with no particular cause. I had never understood what made him hate me so much. I had been a pigheaded and rebellious child, sure, but certainly not enough to justify the level of animosity he had toward me.
I couldn’t remember getting so much as a hug from him nor the last time he’d acted like a father with me.
I hadn’t called him that since Kimberly was taken away.
The sound of my phone ringing cut through my musings. I quickly fixed my hoodie and walked over to the bed to grab the phone. I looked at the screen, dumbstruck—it was Selene.
For a second, I thought about rejecting the call or answering just to tell her not to fuck with me. I couldn’t decide which of the two options would be worse.
“Missing me already, Tinkerbell?” I answered finally with my characteristic cockiness, stuffing my pack of Winstons into my pocket.
I listened to her sigh on the other end of the phone, and it occurred to me that just hours had passed since I’d returned to New York. Yet she’d still felt the need to call me.
“You were pretty upset when you left. I wanted to know if everythingwas okay out there.” All I had to do was hear the delicate tone of her voice, and I felt a powerful shiver in my lower stomach.
“Yes, everything’s good.” I decided not to tell her about Player because I didn’t want to worry her. When I told her, I’d be looking in her eyes. I’d be able to reassure her. “And I already told you: I never call a woman after spending the night with her,” I pointed out.
Though we’d had outstanding sex in Detroit, and I’d had a phenomenal orgasm thanks to her, I didn’t want her to have any illusions. Truthfully, I had immediately regretted telling her about my sexual dysfunction because I wasn’t used to trusting people or confiding in them things about my life that I considered personal.
