Page 58 of What About Us

After parking at the curb, I walk up to the front door but pause when I hear yelling. The house is old and not insulated well, and there’s a window open, because I can hear every word.

“I’ve told you over and over again that you can’t smoke in here, Mom. This is my house.”

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want,” Brenda snaps back in that horrible, nasty tone that she’s mastered, and I see red. “You need to go out and get me better clothes than this. And I want Ciao for dinner, so drive your fat ass over to Bitterroot Valley and get it for me this afternoon.”

“No.”

“You’re a fucking bitch.”

I hear the cat scream, and I have my hand on the handle.

“Cally!”

I barge in and find Ivy scooping her cat into her arms and Brenda smirking. I can smell the cigarettes. Brenda’s dressed in the vintage Flurry T-shirt I made Ivy change out of the other night and a pair of sweats.

When I turn my gaze to Ivy, my blood runs fucking cold.

Because my little wildcat has been crying, and she has a red handprint on her cheek.

“You’re with me,” I say, holding my hand out to Ivy. She immediately moves into my side, holding Cally to her.

“I can’t leave my cat here. She’ll hurt her.”

“Cally’s coming too,” I assure her, doing my best to keep my voice calm. I turn to Brenda, who’s eyes are narrowed on me. “You have seventy-two hours to get out of here. You will not smoke in here. You will not destroy her property.”

“Or what?”

I let the sinister smile that only my opponents see spread across my face, and Brenda swallows hard.

“One, my brother is the police here. Two, I have more money and more fame than you’ve ever dreamed of, and I can make your life a living hell. Or, you can leave. Find somewhere else to be an absolute nightmare, but you won’t do it here. Never again.”

“You don’t speak for her,” Brenda spits back.

“Yes, he does,” Ivy replies as she pulls away from me. “I’ll pack a bag and get Cally’s things.”

I nod, and when Brenda moves to follow Ivy, I step in front of her, blocking her way.

“You’re a fucking bully,” she says.

“Oh no. That’s not me. That’s you.” I step closer, making her nervous. I’d never hit a woman, but I’ll intimidate this one. “You hit her.”

“What’s it to you?”

“You won’t ever lay a hand on her ever again.”

We stay like this, glaring, until Ivy hurries back. She’s put Cally in a carrier, and I help her take everything she needs out to my SUV.

“I can’t leave my truck,” she says, and I fucking hate how her voice wobbles. “She’ll do something to it. I can’t⁠—”

“Okay, it’s okay. Follow me home, wildcat.”

She nods, her eyes jerk over to where her mom is watching us in the window, and then she gets in her truck and waits for me to start my car. She stays in my rearview the entire way to my house, and once we get everything inside and set Cally free to explore the house, I tug Ivy to me and wrap my arms around her.

“I need to hold you,” I murmur against her hair.

“Good. Because I need to be held.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN