Page 37 of ’Til You Break

“It was great seeing you both again,” Vivienne says, giving Hannah a big hug.

I wonder if she can smell the sex on her. She will be wondering if she’s lost her mind or if we’ve been up to no good.

It pleases me to think about it. Damn near brings a smile to my face.

Vivienne wasn’t the architect of my childhood misery, but she came into my life at the worst possible time. Any suffering inflicted on her is a deserved punishment for shacking up with the piece of shit I call Dad.

“And we’re sorry about stepping out for so long,” Dad adds. “But you know the Johnsons. Once they get started, you can’t turn them off.”

“It’s your birthday. You don’t have to apologize for anything.” Hannah shoulders the conversation, just as she always has. She’s spent her whole life playing peacemaker, and she’s become good at it.

I shake Dad’s hand, refusing another awkward hug. Vivienne wraps her arms around my waist, earning nothing more than a light pat on the shoulder. I’ve put in my hours in their home and around their dining table. Whatever pleasantries I once had to offer died a long time ago.

“Take care,” I say, leaving Hannah to finish the goodbyes while I climb into my car.

Then, she flops into the seat beside me, and I expect an earful about what happened upstairs.

She doesn’t give me one. She just smiles as we pull out of the driveway, waving at our parents as they wave back.

I shouldn’t be surprised.

Coming is a cure-all to almost every ailment. Mentally, at least. Getting your world rocked clears your mind and puts you at ease.

It definitely did for me.

We barely make it down the road before the fuel light starts blinking on the dashboard. I groan.

My meeting with X isn’t for another few hours, but I still have preparations to make. Small inconveniences like this have a habit of snowballing into much bigger problems.

“I need to stop for gas on the way home.”

“Sounds good,” Hannah says, still smiling.

I pass the first two gas stations, cutting it close before finally pulling into the third. Our parents only live an hour and a half away, but every minute I can shave off the journey matters.

I pull into a pump and climb out. I’ve barely got the nozzle into the fuel tank when Hannah’s door swings open and she hops out of the car.

“What are you doing?” I grind out, finding this small deviation from my plan irrationally irritating.

“I’m gonna run inside and grab something to drink,” she says. “Want anything?”

Twice now I’ve reached the same conclusion. And with every passing second, I regret my decision more. I can’t expect her to learn anything when the punishment benefits both of us. Making her scream in pleasure sends entirely the wrong message.

But it’s the choice I made. Now I have to live with it.

“No. Hurry.”

She scoffs and skips towards the shop without a care in the world.

I fucking love watching her leave.

Her pale legs disappear beneath that skirt, and knowing she never had time to clean herself up does dangerous things to my head. She’s been carrying the reminder of what happened between us ever since we left the house.

Then I notice I’m not the only one watching her.

A man parked behind me can’t take his eyes off her. His tongue drags across dry, cracked lips.

My fists clench.