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That was the one thing that I’d gotten from my mother—her body type. Curvy body but small boobs.
The rest had come from my father.
The brown hair and the weird blue eyes. Yep, all him.
Which sucked because he really didn’t like being associated with me three-quarters of the time.
It always cracked me up when someone asked if I was Murphy Archer, II’s daughter.
Like I said, it was the eyes.
There weren’t many in the area that had them.
“When my asshole son remarried, he was ‘fixed,’” Murphy started. “Melody Archer wanted a baby, though, and she got one. My son got himself a vasectomy reversal, had a baby, and then they named her Rockett.”
Zach’s eyes widened. “You’re shitting me.”
“Not shitting you at all,” Murphy drawled. “That was what got Crockett kicked out of the house. When they brought Rockett home and introduced her, Crockett finally learned what kind of douchebag her stepmother was, and what kind of a spineless wimp her father was. She threw a wall-eyed fit of her own—the Archer family is really good at throwing those, FYI—and they kicked her out the very next second. Danny was already out of the house at the time going to school at a community college. But they paid for an apartment for him. When he found out, he called her to have her live with him, but then the asshole parentals said that if any of the siblings helped her, then they were going to cut them off. Which meant I stepped in to help. I bought her that house next door to them. Best fuckin’ thing I ever did.”
Zach’s eyes came to me, and he shook his head. “Your parents sound like douchebags.”
“My mom wasn’t,” I admitted. “She was really sweet. When she died of ovarian cancer while my parents were going through their divorce, I had no idea how awful my dad was. Then he didn’t show up to her funeral and made me walk to it. Murphy was in jail at the time, so I couldn’t get him to take me. Danny, Nora, and I all walked. It was… yeah. Let’s just say that my dad’s been proving that he’s an all-out asshole for a really long time.”
Why was I giving him my life story?
I mean, he wasn’t walking away, and he was engaging in the conversation. But who wanted to hear about how awful someone’s parents were?
Which then embarrassed me to no end.
And when I get embarrassed, I close up.
Tightly.
Which was why, in the next second, I all but stopped talking and left Murphy and Zach to fend for themselves while I got the grill fired up and made everyone a couple of grilled cheese and turkey sandwiches.
Only after I was done, and everyone had their food, did I walk into the break room and find the ice cold Dr. Pepper that I saved only for emergencies.
Sure, I had some in the coolers in the main store, but this one was special.
This one was the one that I gave up six years ago when, after losing my Olympic dreams, I’d gone on a bender that included unhealthy eating, gaining a ton of weight, and ultimately eating myself to death.
Now, six years later, I was way better than I was at that point in my life.
I was once again at a healthy weight, but I was still struggling with my healthy mind.
My dad and stepmom just had a way of poisoning my every day.
And the anger shouldn’t hit me as hard as it did all those months ago when I’d officially ‘given up’ on my father.
But it did.
It still hurt.
Which fucking sucked.
I had my hand around the drink, was just about to twist the top off, when I heard my grandfather’s words pierce my fog of indignation.
Today, when Rockett had come over, she’d been pissed that I’d refused to take her to the mall—as if I had a choice on leaving my business or not.
When I’d told her no, she’d gotten pissed and had all but knocked a display of chips over in her anger.
When I’d called her a selfish brat, she’d gotten even more pissed and thrown more stuff.
It was only after I’d threatened to call the cops on her that she’d left with a promise ‘to tell Dad how much of a bitch I was.’
Well, what the fuck ever.
I didn’t care anymore.
I could continue to be that bitch to him.
I mean, he’d called me one all my life. I might as well live up to the expectations, right?
“She’s the nicest, most giving kid you’ll ever meet,” Murphy said, talking about me. “She’s out of hamburger patties because she didn’t get the chance to run by the store after that asshole’s tantrum. So she went home and got her Thanksgiving turkey and carved it all up. That’s what we’ll have tomorrow since it’s Saturday and our normal supplier isn’t open tomorrow.”
