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Judas had ripped the rose colored-glasses from my face and shattered them into painfully jagged shards.
“Goddamnit, Evie. Isn’t about time we sat down and had the talk with her?”
“She is an emotionally unstable child, Marcus.”
I struggled not to laugh. Me emotionally unstable? Had she not gotten in touch with herself? There were for sure some screws coming loose.
“Um, she is right here and anything but what you just said. What exactly is your problem? Why can’t he tell me the truth? Someone should.”
“Rhiannon Marie Clermont, you are a child.”
Uh-uh. Did she for real just hit me with a full name drop? Did she think that still held weight?
I was eighteen now, not an eight-year-old little girl that would cower in fear like I used to because mommy was in a mood.
“Am I actually a Clermont?”
The question was out of my mouth before I could think to keep it to myself. I wanted to know the truth, but not like this. Dad blanched as if I had physically punched him in the stomach.
Mom fixed me with her usual no-nonsense stare that typically made me fall back and behave like the good girl I’d spent my life pretending to be just to please them. I never realized how cold that look was until right now.
“Proud of yourself?”
“Are you fucking proud?”
“Rhiannon,” Dad chided gently.
My F-bomb was the last thing he needed to worry about. I wanted to knock his wife’s head between the washer and dryer.
She must have sensed it. Her bleached brows raised like they always did when she was amused. “I know you’d like to think you’re an adult now but fucking that Barron scum doesn’t make you a grown woman. Neither does having an ass and tits that belong on one. If you want to remain under my roof, you’re not to see him anymore and I want your phone. You go to school and come straight home. Understand?”
“Not really.” I shrugged, pretending her comments didn’t sting. Fuck this cut deep--deeper than I was prepared for.
“Don’t try me, Rhiannon.” She took a menacing step forward.
Dad whirled and faced her, placing himself in front of me like a shield. “Have you lost your mind?”
I peeked around his body and stared at her face. I’d never had a distinct moment when I wanted to disown my mother.
This wasn’t about her trying to essentially ground me. I could deal with that if it was being done under normal circumstances. She talked down on Judas and tried to walk all over Dad. Those were minor offenses when compared to the fact she continually disrespected me. Sporting the title of ‘mom’ didn’t give her the right to do that. I wasn’t going to sit here and put up with her bullshit. Not today.
Not ever again.
This woman was toxic, and I knew all about that. I wrote the damn guidebook on the topic. We stared at one another, not as mother and daughter, but two strangers sizing each other up. The moment was liberating in an oddly satisfying way. I felt my rage melt into something akin to serene resignation. I’d dealt with this long enough to know better. Why was I letting her get to me?
“You have issues, Evie. Please seek help from someone to help deal with that. As your daughter, I’m not qualified, and Dad isn’t either.”
“Listen you little bitch, I’m the reason--.”
“Sorry, I have to go. Judas is picking me up and I’m already late. You remember him, right? The Barron scum I let fuck me?”
I bit back a smile as her face exploded in a brilliant shade of red. I knew she was about to lay into me as she’d never done before.
“Go on. I’ll take care of this,” Dad reassured me.
I gave him a tight smile and walked out the door, slamming it shut on her screaming something about me being ungrateful. I’m not ashamed to admit I was glad as hell I could escape through the front door. My feelings were about to be crushed; I just knew it.
And of course, there was Judas, leaning against one of our peeling porch pillars’ no doubt having heard every word said. My life was beginning to feel a bit too much like a soapy Telenova drama for my liking. Someone needed to throw me a rich drug-lord for compensation. Then again…maybe I already had one.
I eyed my gorgeous counterpart who had yet to say anything. There was no kind of discernable expression on his face. He looked totally out of place on our old farmhouse porch donning the Pesadilla uniform. He was better suited for a high-rise penthouse.
“Let’s go.” I brushed by him and headed down the walkway.
He easily fell in step beside me. When we reached his car, he pulled open the passenger door so that I could get in first. See, he could be such a gentleman.
