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He frowned. I thought he was about to throw another placating line at me—some regurgitated remains of his therapy sessions. Instead, I saw maybe the first real flash of anger as his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’m trying, Cassian. Your mother thinks our marriage is causing you to act out, so I’m doing my fucking best to be a good stepfather. But my patience has limits.”
“Good. I’d respect you more if you weren’t such a fucking pushover all the time.”
He laughed.
Surprised by his reaction, I found myself grinning slightly. “And if you didn’t dress like that. Suspenders? You look like the wolf of Sesame Street or some shit.”
Walter self-consciously tugged at one of his suspender straps. “Believe it or not, I don’t dress to impress teenaged kids.”
“And who are you trying to impress, then? The bingo crowd at the local retirement home?” I pinched the sleeve of his baggy dress shirt and lifted it.
It turned out that Walter’s backbone had its limits, and he spent the rest of the ride home slightly red-faced and quiet.
I still wouldn’t have pissed on him if he was on fire, but I had to give the old geezer a little credit. Maybe there was hope for him, after all.
We drove past Dead Ringers on the way to our house, and my mind flashed with the memory from a few nights back. I still felt my blood get hot when I pictured Clint with his arm around Charli. I could see him lifting the French fry to her mouth, like he was fucking feeding her.
I gripped the door handle of the car until my fingertips went numb with pain.
By nearly killing the asshole, I assumed all I’d actually accomplished was pushing them closer. I bet Charli was kneeling at his bedside and pressing ice packs to his tender neck.
But I hoped she felt a chill of dread when she saw my fingerprints on his skin—the red and bruised marks I had no doubt were there.
The mark would be a reminder to both of them. A reminder of what was going to happen if I saw them together again.14CharliIt was a school holiday, but dad still had work. I’d stared at the text for at least twenty minutes, taken it through multiple drafts, and then finally hit send. Granted, I did try in a blind panic to find out if there was a way to “unsend” a text just a few moments later.
I’d invited Clint to come to my house. I wasn’t sure if he wanted anything to do with me after Cassian’s antics the other night. I’d gone and visited him at the hospital, but he was too drugged up to really seem to notice. Cassian had bruised his windpipe. A little more pressure, the doctor said, and he could’ve done permanent damage.
Just the thought of it made me rage inside. I was still coming to terms with what he’d told me, but I couldn’t excuse anything he’d done. I’d asked Zoe if she knew anything about what he said, and she’d told me everyone just assumed I already knew. Unsurprisingly, nobody had decided to bring up the fact that my mom and Cassian’s dad had died in the same fire, or that Cassian’s dad probably wouldn’t have died if I had been willing to leave my mom’s side.
The part Cassian hadn’t mentioned was how he’d apparently been the one to finally pull me from the house. At seven years old, he’d charged into the flames that my own father was too afraid to step into and he’d found me. He dragged me free of the house and went back to look for his father.
The fire was something I’d understood my whole life. At least, I thought I had. Now there were all these new pieces to the puzzle. New reasons to feel guilty and shitty about it. To feel like it really was my fault like my dad always wanted me to believe.
I was grateful when Clint’s knock came at my door, because it pulled me from my downward, spiraling thoughts.
He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows when I opened the door for him. He gave me a quick hug that was just a second too long to be strictly platonic. At least, that was what my desperate mind wanted to think.
When he pulled back, I got a fresh glimpse at his neck, which made my skin tingle with little pinpricks of guilt. It was a purple and black replication of Cassian’s huge hand.
I swallowed, feeling a sudden darkness wash over me, as if Cassian’s presence had swooped in through the open door like a cold, biting wind.
I reached past Clint and pulled the door closed, smiling. “So, I feel like I owe you an apology.”
He frowned. “What? No. I mean, seriously. This is the first time a guy has ever tried to choke me over a girl, but you’re totally worth it.”
