Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“Cut the crap.” His hand moves through the air like a knife, silencing me. “Evie didn’t need to explain anything. I saw it all. The way you were...tangled with him, defiling our home. Jesus Christ, Cordelia. Your own stepbrother?”
Gut punch.
Dad’s face softens, but I realize a second later it’s only because he’s so disgusted.
Not because he has any empathy.
He can barely even look at me.
I watch him spreading his hands on our big table. Are they shaking?
God.
He’s that overwhelmed, that horrified by whatever the crazy witch showed him.
My eyes burn like hazel cinders when he finally meets my gaze again.
But I cross my arms defiantly.
I won’t apologize for falling in love.
Aside from the unintended gate destruction, I’m not in the wrong. Neither is Chris. And the only person who’s truly at fault couldn’t care less about setting anything right.
Still, it hurts to ignore that shocked hangdog look on his face.
“Walk me through this. Help me understand,” Dad says softly, raking another hand over his face. “What the hell made you do this? You’re a gorgeous, smart girl in her prime, sweetheart. You could date any boy on campus, I’m sure of it.”
I open my mouth, but he holds up a hand.
“Why him? He’s handsome and brash, yes. But he also has all the grace of a bull moose at a tea party. Men like him don’t just do a one-eighty and settle down.”
Dad’s anger matches mine.
But his pain sneaks through my defenses. He’s still trying to protect me more than anything in his own messed-up way, thinking Chris intended to pump and dump me or something ridiculous.
Dad doesn’t know him well enough. Isn’t that the whole problem?
And if Evie has her way, he’ll never get the chance.
“Delia—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“Dad, we’re in love.” My confession just falls out.
He actually rocks back like I just hit him square in the face.
Am I actually trying to justify my love affair with my badass stepbrother to my own father?
Yes.
Yes, I am.
“Love,” he repeats, sounding so neutral and confused, giving me a shred of hope. “Goddammit. I’m starting to think Evie was right. Cordelia, look, I don’t know what he’s done or what crazy thoughts he’s put in your head. She said he has a way of doing that.”
Thoughts in my head? Like I can’t think for myself?
My hope goes up in a puff of anger.
Dad reaches for my hand, but I push him away, jerking back in the chair.
“No. You’re dead wrong about this—and so is Evie if she’s convinced you Chris hypnotized me or whatever. I’m not a stupid little girl who decided to throw myself at the first handsome boy who gave me the time of day, Dad. If you really think I’m so smart, you should know that. Have some respect.”
Okay, so maybe I did throw myself at the first handsome face who called me beautiful.
So what?
My feelings for Chris Triton are real, and I shouldn’t be on trial.
“We love each other, honestly. Ever since that trip to Vegas... And...and we were a couple at that party, the night Evie sent you the pictures. It’s true we got carried away dancing, and we certainly never meant to run into her. We planned to sit down with you after you came home and have a discussion.”
“A discussion,” he echoes numbly. “Is that what you call doing that in my wine cellar?”
I wince.
He’s gone pale.
I watch him slick back his dark hair again with a rattling sigh like some middle-aged stockbroker who’s just had his life savings swallowed by a bear market.
“Cordelia, you can’t be serious. I’m worried about you. Evie and I both think you need some help, and there’s no shame in that.”
“Help? Like what, a shrink? All because I’m telling you we’re in love?” I try not to shout the last part.
The very idea that his psycho wife convinced him I’m the crazy, dangerous one reaches through me and strangles my heart.
I can’t.
I can’t sit here another second and listen to this puppet talk, a man I love who’s been so manipulated he’s not even trying to understand.
“I’m not crazy, Dad. I wish you’d believe that,” I say softly. “I think you know there’s only one person in this house who needs help. I wish you could see it.”
The lines on his face deepen.
“If you mean Evie, you’re wrong. Her last test for recovery was clean. She’s kept every appointment with her doctors religiously. Frankly, she’s done everything she should and she’s come out of it fighting. I only wish she’d brought up this thing with you two sooner. I would’ve stopped it in its tracks before it became a bigger problem.”
“Stopped it? So you think you get to choose who I love?” My voice cracks.
He stands and steps toward me, his face twisted into a mask of concern, but I only see the anger, the disgust, the lies she’s put there.