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)
I shake my head because she’s right. I really don’t.
“He’s a stubborn boy, my Christopher. He certainly doesn’t need more problems when it’s already like moving a mountain to bring him home.”
“So, don’t, maybe?” I venture, resting a hand on my hip. “He’s more than old enough to make his own decisions, right?”
She does a double take, her bleach-blond hair whipping against her shoulder.
Then she’s all wild-eyed lightning, lunging for my face, chasing me back against the wall.
Holy crap!
My instinct is to slap her, but honestly, I’m too freaked that this is even happening.
I shove my back against the wall just as she pinches my shoulder, digging her fingers in until I yelp.
“Ow! What do you think you’re—”
“Are you two fucking, missy? Is that why he came back? Because it certainly wasn’t for his dear old mom. Somewhere along the line, my beautiful son stopped giving a single shit about me.”
I’m speechless.
All I can do is shake my head until I’m dizzy.
But she won’t let go.
Her fingers press into bone as she gives me this violent, almost jealous look.
Yikes, what now?
It happens like a gunshot.
I don’t mean to hit her—but my hand flies up, all cold reflex, impacting her cheek so hard her head whips to the side.
Oh, crap.
Oh, crap.
Evie staggers back a few paces, her fingers trembling as she lays them against her burning jawline. She blinks several times before her eyes land on me again, flaring with hatred.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I shout, what little control I had left gone. “He’s my stepbrother. Nothing happened between us, and nothing ever will. I just wanted to talk and get to know him. We’re friends.”
I mean, that’s an exaggeration so huge it’s a lie right now, but I’m past caring.
When you’re dealing with a crazy lady you no longer recognize from the vacant look in her eyes, you’d be surprised how fast survival kicks in and makes you say things you shouldn’t.
I study her, searching for signs of anything else that might explain this outburst.
Is she back on drugs?
Is this some kind of mental episode?
If all the crap I’ve read about her in the blogs and tabloids is true—not to mention Chris’ personal nightmare—there’s no telling what’s wrong with her.
“Watch your step, little missy,” she snaps, pointing a shaky finger at me like a dagger. “I’m watching you, Cordelia. I won’t let you screw up this family. I’ve worked too hard to get here, and I’m so fucking close to having it all fixed. Don’t try to take me for a fool.”
I don’t even know what that means.
And I don’t get a chance to find out as the door bangs lightly against the wall.
Dad stands there like he’s expecting a group hug, awkwardly oblivious to what just went down.
Ugh.
Part of me wants to rush over and tell him his new wife is a complete whackadoodle. The rest of me is too gobsmacked to process what just flipping happened.
“Delia, hi. Sure hope we didn’t ruin any big party plans you had by coming home early,” he says softly.
I force a smile and shake my head.
Evie shoots me another look like a scolded cat behind him and then slips past us without saying a word.
Dad tries to reach for her, to rub her shoulder on her way out, but she throws him off like he’s part spider.
I’ll never understand how easily he looks the other way. He gives me a smile that mostly hides his sadness.
Mostly.
“How’s the big paper coming? You need any help with ideas?”
I roll my eyes.
“What? You’re telling me you’re too smart for your old man?” he teases, walking in and sitting on my bed.
Dad always loved helping with my homework when I was little, undercutting the private tutors he shelled out good money for. He’s kept up the habit all through college, and he hasn’t taken the hint no matter how many times I turn him down.
I have a funny feeling I’ll be forever sixteen in his eyes, even when I’m about to graduate and get a big girl job. Right now, that’s looking like a big if.
“Working on it. Definitely making some good progress,” I lie. “So, did you really come home early just for business? Or is it something else?”
I sit down on the bed next to him, laying one hand on his shoulder.
He looks more tense than usual.
At first, I didn’t notice the dark shadows under his eyes, but now I can’t miss them.
Ouch.
I haven’t seen him looking like this since all the shakeups and mergers in the airlines during the last recession, when I was just a little girl.
Maybe not since Mom walked out.
It has to be her.
I want to curse Evie to the lowest tier of hell.
Whatever stops her before she leaves Dad’s poor glass heart in smithereens.
Honestly, I don’t know how he’ll survive another breakup...