Fear of how far he’d take things is all that keeps me from breaking that hand now gripping my ass as my sister and friends watch him follow me into the house.
The second I close the door behind us, I shove him hard. I feel so much satisfaction when his back slams against the wall, rattling the pictures hanging beside the window.
Even if he is completely unfazed and laughing.
“Feel better getting that out your system?”
“What do you think you’re doing? Why’d you lie to them?” I cut in, ignoring his snarky comment completely.
He steps away from the wall and straightens his shirt while staring me down. “I think an even better question is why you didn’t correct me.”
I’m seeing pure red. “You think I don’t know how that would end?”
The smile on his face broadens, but it’s turned wicked. “Well, somebody’s learning,” he croons, seeming pleased with the idea of me finally understanding my place.
“Congrats!” I shout. “You’re rich, I’m poor. You have this entire town on your side, and to you I’m nothing. Got it, asshole.”
I cross my arms over my chest after speaking and can’t even look at him. It’s then, in that moment of silence, that I glance around. The place is a wreck. Scar spent her day baking while I worked an early shift with Dusty. There had been no time to clean and, honestly, with school, work, and journalism club all week, it’d been more than a few days since anyone had straightened things.
The frustration that dominated my mood a moment ago is replaced by something else.
Embarrassment.
From the old couch that dips in the middle—thanks to the many nights Mike has chosen to sleep there instead of his actual bed, to the collection of empty beer cans and overflowing basket of laundry, to the two fist-sized holes in the wall from a recent episode where my father couldn’t control his temper.
West is worming his way into areas of my life I hardly allow the people I trust to enter, let alone my enemy.
“Just … go,” I say softly, feeling the weight of shame holding me in place. I can only imagine the things he’ll take back to school about me, about my home.
Before he can even say anything ugly, a door creaks down the hall and my stomach plummets.
“What’s all the damn noise about?”
Mike’s staggering even more than when he’d come out to terrorize us out front. Meaning, he’s downed another bottle or two since then.
“Nothing, Mike,” I say as firmly as possible, but my voice is quieter than usual, strained. “West was just leaving.”
At least, I hope he is.
Especially as I become aware of the familiar sting in my eyes. The one that usually means tears are on the way. I can’t think of anything worse than giving someone who sees me as weak, who believes he owns me, the chance to see me cry.
“Thought I told you bitches not to let any of these hellraisers you call friends into my damn house anymore. You stupid or something?”
I’ve long-since grown numb to my father’s insults, his indifference towards my siblings and I, but it stings especially bad to be treated this way in front of West. Someone who already thinks I’m worthless.
I suppose I don’t answer quickly enough for Mike, because his next move is to amble across the living room, coming straight toward me to get in my face. Surprisingly, he’s never struck anyone under this roof before, so I don’t brace myself for impact, but … West does.
In what I guess is some kind of knee-jerk reaction, he’s suddenly standing between Mike and me. Like a fortress, shielding me from the encroaching storm. Shocked, and very much confused, I’m unsure what to do or say. So, I watch in silence as the two engage in a fierce stare-down.
“Try it, boy,” Mike grunts, barely sober enough to stand on his own.
West is unwavering, but his biceps tense when he readies his fists. Just in case, I guess.
“You should back up,” is his cold warning to my father. “Maybe go sleep it off before you do something you’ll regret … sir.”
Mike doesn’t take kindly to threats, but I imagine the polite, and yet stern, tone of West’s voice is confusing to him. He certainly wouldn’t be the only one with no clue what’s going on.
They seem to have reached a stalemate, neither having spoken a word in several seconds. But then, adding to this batshit crazy turn of events, Mike retreats. Yeah, he’s grumbling and cursing to himself, but he’s doing all those things while slow-walking it back to his bedroom.
There’s an awkward silence in the room, hovering between West and me as I keep my stare trained on his back. With each of the deep breaths he draws in, his shoulders rise and fall. But he has yet to face me.
Maybe he can’t.
A wall came down I don’t think he intended to lower. Ever. But what’s done is done. There’s no taking back what I know—that he just put himself in harm’s way for me. If it had been anyone else who intervened just now, I wouldn’t hesitate to show my gratitude, thank them, but … not him.
Never him.
Instead, I’m bitter as hell that he’s pushed himself into this corner of my life, seen the dark parts I keep hidden at all costs.
Furious, I can only get one word out of my mouth. “Leave.”
I don’t regret the chill in my tone. Not even a little. He has no right to be here.
What could have been an act of valor, only feels like an invasion of privacy to me and I want him gone.
Opening the front door makes it clear I mean what I said. And I don’t breathe again until West brushes past me without either of us even attempting to make
