by Izzy Sweet
But all I felt was relief.
Relief that it was all finally over. The house of cards I’ve been struggling to hold up for so long was finally crashing down.
The truth was finally coming out into the light, overshadowing all the lies.
I tried to sneak away before they could see me. To make a clean break.
But then Ashley had to screech in surprise, and that… that fucker had to notice me.
I tried to get away. I tried to run, but damn, even naked, balls deep in a girl, Tristan is a prime athlete.
He caught me before I made it out the front door.
My shoulders still ache from being shoved hard into the wall. The pain is so bothersome, I try to focus on rolling the tension out without jerking around the steering wheel.
But like a punch in the gut, his declaration hits me.
“If you weren’t such a stone-cold fucking ice queen, I wouldn’t have to fuck all your friends.”
I laughed. At least I think I did before he grabbed me by the shoulders and shoved me into the wall again.
For a moment, the memory becomes all too real and I can smell his breath from when he leaned into me.
It smelled of him and Ashley.
“You think this changes anything? It changes nothing. You still belong to me, Bree.”
Thank god there’s no one on the road behind me. Jerking the steering wheel to the right, I pull over and manage to jump out before my stomach revolts.
With the sun beating down on me, I slap my hand against the side of my car, bend over, and puke my guts up.
With each clench of my stomach, I purge a little more of the last four years up.
All the choices I’ve made.
All my fuck ups and mistakes.
If it wasn’t for the hot metal searing into the tender skin of my palm, I’d wonder if this was a bad dream. But no, this isn’t a dream, this is my life. A life that’s so twisted and fucked up by others, I don’t even know who I am anymore.
Once my stomach stops clenching, I straighten and wipe my mouth off with my arm.
But I keep my palm pressed against the hot metal.
The pain… it’s nothing compared to what I’m feeling inside, but it keeps me here.
It keeps me in this moment.
And I desperately want to stay in this moment.
I’d rather be stuck out here in this scorching heat, puking my guts up, than reliving what happened this morning all over again.
I rather be stuck out here in this wasteland, alone and completely isolated, than return to my gilded cage back in California.
I can only stand the pain for so long though before I have no choice but to yank my hand back.
And as soon as the pain begins to fade away, before I can even catch my breath, the memory delivers one last brutal slap.
“There’s no point in telling your father, he knows. He’s always known, so save your fucking breath.”
The road blurs, the yellow and white lines thinning until they look as if they were painted on with highlighters. I’ve been staring at the asphalt for so long my damn eyes are starting to feel gritty and my ass is numb.
After my little stop on the side of the road, I’ve been driving for eight hours, nonstop. Running away from the mess I left behind me.
Afraid it will catch up to me if I stop.
My shoulders tense and my hands tighten around the steering wheel as my stepfather’s house comes into view through my windshield.
After spending so many hours on the road to get here, I should feel relieved. I finally made it. I’m safe. I’m free.
But all I feel is more anxiety and worry.
What the fuck am I bringing here? What shit am I dropping on their doorstep?
Would everyone be better off if I just disappear?
I follow the driveway as it curves around the front of the house then force my foot to the brake. What I really want to do is slam on the gas and peel out of here, to keep running.
But my mom is already standing at the bottom of the front steps, waiting for me.
Killing the engine, I take a moment to get my anxiety under control before I have to act like I’m normal and not about to have a nervous breakdown.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
This isn’t the first time I’ve had to pretend everything is okay while my world is crashing down.
You’ve got this, Bree.
No more puking.
Pull those big girl panties up.
“Aubrey!” my mom calls out as soon as I pop my door open.
I manage to get one foot out the door before my mom pounces on me. She pulls me into a hug that’s so tight my lungs compress against my ribs.
Fuck, when did she get so strong?
“Mom, can’t breathe,” I find myself gasping.
“Oh, sorry!” She laughs and relaxes her arms. Her smile is so warm it flashes in front of my eyes like a beam of light. “I’m just so happy to see you, honey.”
She gives me one more squeeze then takes a step back, her eyes drinking me in as if it’s been years since we’ve seen each other and not a few months.
“I missed you too, Mom,” I wheeze out and let my own eyes drink her in before I remember myself.
Shaking my head, I smile and ask, “Wow, where’d you get the guns?”
I haven’t seen her since spring break, but she looks younger. Rejuvenated even. There’s a sparkle in her eyes and a glow about her that wasn’t there before she met and moved in with my stepfather.
“Guns?” My mom blinks in confusion and looks around her as if she’s really looking for them. “I don’t have any guns…”
“She means your arms, Olivia,” my stepfather chuckles as he comes up behind her and wraps an arm around her waist.
He does it so casually, so naturally, I doubt either of them are even aware that he’s pretty much staking his claim right in front of me.
It would be annoying if it wasn’t so damn cute.
In fact, everything about them is so cute that if I didn’t love them both so much it would probably make me puke again.
My stepfather, Logan, towers over my mother by at least a foot. He’s a big, burly, dark-haired guy with a deep, booming voice that was intimidating as hell the first time I met him, but he treats my mom with the gentleness of a teddy bear.
My mom on the other hand is a petite blonde with a slender frame who looks like she could get blown away by the wind at any moment. Even with the muscle she’s packed on it doesn’t look like it would take much to knock her over.
We Mckenzie women run small. Hell, I’m lucky I managed to grow a couple of inches above five feet in eighth grade.
I’m officially the tallest girl ever born in our family.
“Oh.” My mom tips her head up to smile at Logan before she turns that smile to me. “I’ve been working out with Logan and Chase at his gym.”
“Seriously?” I ask, and Logan nods his head with pride. I let out a low whistle between my teeth and start to move around them. “That’s impressive.”
Chase, Logan’s son and technically my stepbrother, is a former heavyweight MMA champion who retired from the fighting scene after he met his wife, Avery. He owns and runs a prestigious training gym now. He’s even bigger than his dad and more intimidating. I can’t even picture my little mom training with the two of them.
“You’re welcome to join us, if you like,” Logan offers, and I sense his tall, towering frame coming up behind me as I pop my trunk open. “We start at six.”
I reach into the trunk to grab my bag and the tips of my fingers brush against the handle a split second before Logan grabs it out of my hand.
Who says chivalry is dead?
Logan grabs my other bag, hauling them both up easily in his big mitts. There are handles and wheels he could use, but I doubt he’s even considered it.
I close my trunk then click my clicker, locking up my Audi after taking a second to suck in a calming breath. “In the e
vening?”
Logan’s eyes glitter with amusement under his bushy brows. “In the morning.”
I make a face and Logan chuckles. “No thanks. That’s way too early for me.”
“You do look tired. Are you getting enough sleep?” my mom remarks with sudden concern, giving me another once-over as we all head up the front steps.
When I called this place a house earlier, I was downplaying it a bit. Really, the place is a mansion with a sprawling artificial lawn nestled within a copse of trees. The interior itself features six bedrooms, five baths, and a kitchen as big as my apartment back in California.
“It’s been a hard semester,” I reassure her with a tight smile then quickly change the subject.
I’m in my role now and it’s everything I can do to maintain it. My energy is running on empty. What I really want to do is hole myself up in a room somewhere and sleep until I forget the past twenty-four hours.
But I can’t do that yet.
I don’t want my mom to get one whiff of the crap I’ve been dealing with. I want to keep her as far as possible away from it, so I have to pretend that nothing’s wrong and everything is fine for a little longer.
“Wow, Mom,” I find myself saying as we pass through the double front doors. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”
With just a glance, I can see her touches everywhere.
My mom beams with pride and begins to flutter around the huge living area, pointing out and explaining all the changes she’s made since she moved in.
She’s an interior designer who lives and breathes color, textures, and fabric. Me? I could care less what my surroundings look like as long as I have food, a bed, and the internet.
My eyes start to glaze over as my mom finishes up describing how she rearranged all the furniture to increase the flow of the room and moves on to describing all the projects she’s working on with Logan.
That’s how the two of them met. Logan is this huge real estate mogul here in Nevada and my mom is one of the best interior designers in this part of the nation.
“I’ve put your bags in your room,” Logan’s deep rumbling voice jolts me back to reality.
I shoot him a grateful, though tired, smile as he thumps down the winding staircase that leads to the second floor. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, runt,” Logan chuckles and rubs my head like I’m a small child as he walks past me.
I huff out a breath, blowing the hair that’s now in front of my eyes out of my face.
I don’t know why I’m the runt when my mom’s shorter than me, but it’s been Logan’s nickname for me since I’ve met them.
“Do you want some lunch, Bree? I can prepare some sandwiches,” my mom offers, but I immediately shake my head at her.
I can’t even remember the last time I ate, but I don’t think my stomach could handle it right now.
“No, thank you. I think I’m going to lay down for a bit and nap. It was a long drive…”
My mom smiles and nods her head, but she can’t keep the disappointment out of her eyes. “That’s probably a good idea. You should get some rest. Chase, Avery, and the kiddos will be here for dinner in a couple of hours.”
Oh, that’s right. Damn. I forgot. It looks like I’ll be trying to keep my shit together all night.
“Alright, I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” I say, suddenly feeling anxious to escape their unwavering attention and this role I’m playing.
Before anything else can come up and delay me, I head for the staircase.
I make it up two stairs before my mom suddenly calls out and stops me.
There’s a strange softness to her voice, almost like she’s self-conscious as she says, “Aubrey?”
Before my brain even processes my name, my feet are stopping.
“Yeah?” I ask, unable to keep the exhaustion out of my voice as I turn back to her.
The smile is gone from my mom’s face and that glow she had about her earlier has dimmed with a touch of sadness.
Wringing her hands in front of her, her eyes lock on mine as she says, “I’m glad you’re here. I missed you, honey.”
Staring at her, into her warm, loving eyes, that chasm that’s grown between us over the past couple of years yawns wide inside me, full of my regret.
Regret that the choices I’ve made have created this distance between us that was never there before.
We used to be so close… so damn close. But I chose a path that took me away from her.
I let myself be lured away from my pillar of love and strength…
I let myself be lured away for the promise of money, power, and popularity.
All the things my life lacked.
I willingly took the path my father laid before me and didn’t even look back at her.
I’ve done shitty things and sold my soul all for the sake of a different life than what she could provide for me at the time.
And I know I’ve hurt her.
Hurt her in ways I didn’t mean to, but hurt her nevertheless.
But if that love glowing in her eyes means anything, maybe it’s not too late for me. Maybe I’m still redeemable.
Maybe I can fix all these mistakes.
Maybe I can be me for once.
My throat closing up on me, I manage to choke out, “Me too, mom.”
Then I haul my ass upstairs before I burst into tears and completely fall apart in front of them.
Chapter Three
Emmett
Someone pounds on my front door and it’s so fucking loud it sounds like they’re trying to use a battering ram to break it down.
“Go the fuck away!” I shout at the door from the couch I was so recently passed out on.
I check the time on my phone and it’s fucking nine in the damn morning.
Just like my fucking headache, the pounding doesn’t stop. It only continues at a steady fucking pace.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Like a goddamn sledgehammer.
Dropping my phone to the ground with my shaky morning fingers, I shout out, “Fuck off unless you have a fucking warrant!”
There’s a loud noise outside that sounds like a foot hitting the door, and I groan.
What the fuck did I do last night? What in the hell did I do? As far as I know, I blacked out here on my couch from the rum I was slamming back.
Fuck. Last night was a bad one. I must have listened to the message from Tommy a couple of dozen times. Each time he said goodbye, I’d take another drink. It was like I was playing my own little drinking game.
Goodbye. Drink. Goodbye. Drink.
Pound. Boom. Pound. Boom.
The beating on the door continues. I’d be better off going and sleeping in my fucking bed. But whoever the fuck is trying to beat my fucking door down is gonna catch a beating first.
Thankfully the world doesn’t spin in circles as I stand up from the couch. And fuck me if I’m not lucky, I still have my damn pants on and they’re dry.
Goodass luck.
“Whoever the fuck you are pounding on my fucking door, you need to fucking stop right the fuck now!” I shout out as I move to the door.
Unlocking the door, I yank it open only to see a massive chest standing there in a black fucking shirt.
“You big, fucking asshole! What the fuck do you think you’re doing shit like that for?” I ask as I look up and see Chase’s face.
“I wanted to make sure you heard me.”
He laughs as he steps to the side so I can see who else is laughing.
“Fuck off the two of you,” I snarl at Dale as he steps into view.
Chase grins. “That’s not very polite of you.”
“It wasn’t polite of your mom to birth you into this world,” I snap as I start closing the door.
“That wasn’t a very nice thing to say, Emmett,” Dale says with a chuckle.
They both just stand there as the door closes until a giant shoe pushes its way between the door and the frame.
Pulling it back open, I ask, “What do you want? Tell me now so I can say no and go back to bed.”
Dale pushes past me and takes a long look at the fucked-up living room. Chase follows after him and looks around as well.
Both of their faces pinch as they turn back to face me.
“What the fuck are you doing? Trying to open a distillery in your liver?” Dale asks.
“Yeah, I figured it would be worth something when I die,” I grumble as I head out of the living room.
“Well, get showered up. You need to be ready in fifteen,” Chase grunts as he starts pushing empty bottles out of his way to sit on the couch.
“Jesus, it smells like you were taking a bath in those bottles,” Dale grouches, following behind me as I make my way to the kitchen.
“Where the fuck are you going?” I ask as he pushes past me and stands in front of the kitchen entrance.
“Shower’s that way, dickhead.” He points to the opposite direction of where I want to go.
“Shower for what? And get the fuck out of my house. I need to call the cops or something,” I say as I try to squeeze past him.
Arm pushing on my chest, he shakes his head. “Wrong way again, Emmett.”
“No, this is the right way. That’s where all my drinks are,” I growl out in irritation.
I’m really starting to get pissed off that these fuckers are acting like they know what I need to be doing.
“Chase, come here a moment. We need to have a talk with Emmett,” Dale shouts out.
“Fuck Chase, the big, stupid ass pussy. Get the hell out of my way!” I shout as I try to manhandle Dale out of the way.
And fuck…
A big meaty arm wraps around my throat as Dale smirks at me.
“Big what?” Chase asks as he starts to drag me away from the kitchen.
“Pussy!” I warble out as I try to pry his arms away from my breathing passage.
“Nah, brother, that’s not the right word for the day. I think friend would be a better name to call me.”
“Let me the fuck go,” I shout and try to slam the heel of my foot into his shoe, but since the asshole is wearing some thick-ass shoes it doesn’t have the desired effect.
