AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He was an impulsive guy, and we’d always joked about it.
He was the life of the party, and I was the adult in our relationship.
At eight years old, I was meal prepping for the two of us and organizing the bills.
But we’d always been open and honest with each other, and I hated that he’d lied to me. I understood why he’d done it, but it didn’t mean I had to like it.
My father was the one person in my life that I trusted.
He always had been.
My mother was an entirely different story.
Wendy Rose-Dane-Holt-Smith-Slaughter was a brand all her own.
Most short-term apartment leases lasted longer than her marriages did. So yes, I made it a point to call her byall of her married names—absolutely.
I was petty that way.
My mother was a very skilled woman when it came to her control over men. Unfortunately, she just didn’t pick very good ones.
At least, not after she’d devastated my dad.
My father was a good man. Beneath all the bad decisions and alcohol-fueled nights, he was good to his core.
It was painful how much I loved him.
Even when I was angry, which was sort of my love language.
He’d mess up, and I’d complain about it—it was our shtick.
My mother—well, it didn’t matter how many layers I peeled back with her… there was just nothing substantial when you got to the core.
Wendy Rose-Dane-Holt-Smith-Slaughter was beautiful, but she was selfish and thoughtless and calculated.
I pulled into the driveway of her trailer and put my piece of shit white Honda in park before climbing out of the car. My stomach churned, but I held my head high and marched up to the door, swinging it open and finding exactly what I always found.
At least she is consistent.
Dirty dishes and garbage littered the countertop and floors.
The strong scent of cigarette smoke and weed filtered through the air around me.
Beer bottles stuffed with cigarette butts sat on the small table, and I shook my head with disgust. “Hello. I’m here.”
“I’m not feeling well. Grab me a Coke and come to my room,” my mother called out.
When I opened the refrigerator, I covered my nose to stop myself from gagging as the overpowering smell of rotten milk and something sour flooded my senses.
Nothing ever changes.
I’d lived with my father after their breakup when I was four years old. And by breakup, we’re talking an epic, explosive, disastrous ending of a union that should have probably never happened. However, I was grateful that one thing came out of their time together—me.
But the ending had been soul-crushing for my father and just another day at the office for my mother.
She’d been caught having an affair with my father’s childhood best friend, Rico Dane. My younger brother, Rico Dane Junior—don’t even get me started on the fact that there should be rules about naming a childJuniorwhen Rico Dane Senior had accomplished nothing more than being a sperm donor and the champion beer pong player at Whiskey Falls bar—had been the result of that union, and he was a hot mess just like our mother.
“Sis!” A voice came from behind me, and I startled before turning around just as Rico came flying through the door.
