“Hey there, baby girl. Finally come home to your mama and daddy?” He hooks his thumbs in the loops of his jeans and stares down at me.
Bill Lamont loves to stare down at people from his six foot height. Loves pretending he’s some kind of big man.
Not for the first time, I’m glad I look nothing like him. That I didn’t inherit his pale skin, primary-colored eyes, or yellow hair. That no one is ever going to point to me on the street and say,There goes Bill Lamont’s daughter.
I hate this man and the callous way he treated both me and my brothers when we were children.
But I hate him for what he’s done to Leo most of all.
“I’m not home,” I growl.
Home is my house in Nashville. The place I bought with my own savings and filled with my own happiness.
He keeps his patronizing smile on. “Then why are you here? Need money? That fancy fighting you do not pay anymore? Maybe we could set up a bout down here for you. Put you in the ring with someone who knows how to hit.”
There’s so much wrong with his statement that I don’t know where to start.
“I came here to talk to Mom.”
I don’t add the rest even though the words already sit on my tongue.
I’d sell every one of my worldly possessions and still not ask you all for money. My job is about preventing fights, not starting them. Hitting your kids doesn’t mean you know how to hit.
“She doesn’t have the checks.” Bill meanders to the fridge, pulling out a beer. “I do. And if you want cash, you’ll have to work for it. Just like Leo.” He claps his hand on my brother’s shoulder.
Leo keeps chewing on his pizza like he can’t hear any of what’s going on around him.
“I’m not here for money.” I barely keep my voice steady. There’s one task I need to complete, and then I can get the hell out of here. “I’m here to talk to Mom. Let’s go outside.”
I nod to the back door, hoping Vivian will pick up on my urgency. But my dad wraps a possessive arm around my mother’s waist, keeping her in place.
“We don’t keep secrets from each other.” He sends a mocking smile my way before taking a pull from his beer. “But when you never visit, you forget things like that.”
I barely suppress a snort. Why would I visit people who told me I was dead to them?
“Leo’s here almost every day.” Bill gestures toward my brother with his beer bottle. “Comes by after work just to say hi to his mama. And he’s getting more responsibility at the shop. Doesn’t need to beg anyone for a paycheck.”
My brother keeps his stoic routine going as my mother lets out a happy sigh. “I’m so proud, Leo. Knowing you’re part of the family business.”
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
Am I chanting at her or myself?
Both. Definitely both.
“Leo is such a loyal boy, you know?” My mom beams between her son and her husband, as if they were the only three people in the room. I’m only here to be the audience for the show. “Hardworking and loves his mother so much. It’s nice to have a child who does. Who cares.”
The hypocrisy is too much, and that’s the only thing I can blame my complete lack of tact on. Certainly not my constant need for petty revenge.
“Tsai Shu-fen died.”
All three faces turn toward me, finally fully acknowledging my presence.
Leo has his brows dipped in confusion.
My mom looks like I threw a glass of water in her face.
My dad’s cheeks and neck flush red. “What did you say?”
