AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Daddy, stop!” I rush toward him. “I want to stay here.”
“I don’t care.”
“Please!” I plead to his quickly retreating back. “I don’t want to go to New York.”
He flies around with fury in his gaze. “And I don’t want my daughter fooling around with her goddamn brother!”
Both of our chests heave with labored breaths. I’ve never seen my father so upset. So riddled with emotion. He’s always been the more sentimental parent, as Mom is the voice of reason, but his temper has never gotten the better of him.
I broke him.
My tears keep falling as my mother sidles up beside me with her arms crossed. She keeps her voice level. “I agree with your father, June. I think it’s best if you go to New York.”
I’m flabbergasted. Outraged. My own anger heightens as I look between them. “So this is how you choose to deal with me? Ship me off to a new state?”
“It’s not like that,” Mom says.
Dad intercedes. “It’s exactly like that. Distance is the best way to handle this situation.”
“I’m nineteen years old. You no longer need to handle me,” I bite back. “I’m a grown adult, and I don’t live under your roof.”
His jaw tightens. “Is that why you moved out? So you could gallivant around with your brother in private?”
Fisting my hands at my sides, I snap, “Stop trying to cheapen this. He’s not my real brother… We’re in love.”
“Damn it, June!” he shouts, slicing a hand through the air. He moves in closer—close enough that I can see the stress lines etched into his features. I can see the desperation glinting in his eyes. “Listen to yourself. You’re trying to justify a crime. You’re defending a predator.”
Mom jumps in, holding out her hand. “Whoa, hey… Andrew, don’t go there.”
A horrified cry escapes me.
He can’t think that. He can’t possibly think that of Brant.
This was mutual.
“No,” I squeak out. “That’s not true at all. He’s a good man…he’s your son.”
My father’s face contorts with disgust, a finger pointed at me. “He stopped being my son the moment he chose to put his dick inside my daughter.” Then he turns around, disappears into the study, and slams the door behind him.
His hostility vibrates the walls.
The picture frames rattle.
A photograph slips from its place above the doorframe, shattering on the wooden floor beside my feet. My hand flies to my mouth as I realize it’s a picture of me, Brant, and Theo on prom night when we stood in front of the bay window, our arms linked around each other. We’re slightly silhouetted, but our smiles glow bright. And even though my head is tipped to Theo’s shoulder, my bottom half is pressed into Brant.
My right arm is draped casually around Theo’s neck, but my left arm is curled intimately around Brant’s waist.
I suck in a quivering breath, bending down to pick up the photo sprinkled with shards of glass. Memories of that night race through me as I trace a finger over Theo, raking my eyes over his police uniform and knowing it would be the last time he’d ever wear it. His grin is cheesy and wide, and I recall Mom telling us to think about that time we dressed up Yoshi like a UPS man for Halloween. All three of us started laughing, and Mom snapped the picture, catching the precise moment when Brant looked down at me, his face lit up with authentic joy.
I start to cry.
Hard.
Painfully.
My mother moves in and collects me in a warm embrace, stroking her hands through my tangled hair and pulling me close. The picture falls from my fingertips and floats down to the pool of broken glass. She whispers in my ear, “I love you. And I love Brant.” Her chin rests atop my head as I fall against her chest. “But I don’t love this.”
I don’t love this either.
