Page 26 of Jaded (Jaded 1)


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"Sweetie." Sharon hadn't liked that. She heaved a dramatic sigh. "Are you angry with me? This really is for the best. A harmonious parental unit benefits the child better. Neil and I were not harmonious. This is for you really, honey, more than your father and myself."

"What?" My eyes went cold. "Did you pick up that language in therapy?"

She was quiet for a moment and then said stiffly, "Your father and I did try some marital counseling."

"You went once and said it wasn't for you?" I guessed.

"Sheldon, you need to watch your tone with me."

"I am watching, Sharon. My tone is completely calm and ladylike. I am not angry," I bit out. "I am not bit

ter," I spat. "I am not sad," I chewed out. "And I am most certainly not feeling abandoned at all." I finished with a smile.

She drew a sharp breath and said flatly, "Fine."

"Fine."

"I love you, sweetheart."

"Sure you do," I said smoothly.

"I really do. I'll see you over the holidays."

"You're coming home for Thanksgiving?"

"Yes. I'll need to pack my things and look for a new home."

"And who'll be looking with you?"

"You don't need to worry about that. Just a little friend."

So she had slept with someone.

I asked, "You're still sleeping with him?"

She sucked in her breath again and admonished, "Sheldon Eva, I will not put up with your tone of voice any longer. You are to respect your mother. This is hard on all of us, trust me, but I think it's a bit more tiring on your father and myself. You've told us many times to get a divorce."

"Great, mom. So you're just fulfilling one of my wishes." If I could cut glass with my voice, it would've happened then and there.

She sighed, sounding rightfully tiresome. I rolled my eyes.

"Have you heard from your father?"

"Yes." I didn't share our conversation.

"Is he well?" Sharon really wanted to know what he'd said and if I loved him more than her.

"He is well." And I'll let you worry if I love my father more than you. You deserve it.

"Alright, well…I love you, sweetie."

I hung up.

The table had fallen silent throughout my entire conversation. I didn't need to look to know that Bryce and Corrigan were both watching like hawks.

I breathed out one clear breath and stood up.

"Where you going?" Corrigan said quickly.

"I'm going home." The calm was forced in my voice. I knew my eyes spoke volumes, but only to Corrigan and Bryce.

"Sheldon…" Bryce murmured.

"I'm fine. I'm going home to do schoolwork. Beg off…please." The request was sincere.

The guys took it as such and both remained in their seats.

The drive was too short for me. I had plenty to stew over and my hands shook as I parked in the garage and hit the button to close the garage door. I didn't look for any more notes or messages as I made a beeline for the case of beer still on the kitchen table.

I dropped my purse and at the same time I uncapped a beer. I downed that one and did another.

With three clenched in my fingers, I moved into my father's study. I decided to start with the computer and I effectively deleted every single business document he had kept as a reserve on the home computer. After I made another search, I emptied the trash can and then removed the hard-drive.

From the hidden liquor cabinet, I placed all the liquor bottles on his desk. When that was done, I grabbed a poker stick from the fireplace and swung it hard at every crystal vase in the library, every picture frame, every and anything that would break. I left the couches and chairs untouched and moved into my parent's bedroom with a bottle of bourbon in my hand.

With a knife in hand, I visited the closets and slashed the most expensive clothing. I threw all of Sharon's undergarments and lingerie into a box that'd go to a local thrift store. Neil's tuxedos were next for the knife. And all of the neckties, socks, and suits went into the thrift store box.

I ripped his shirts to pieces and let them fall on the floor.

The shoes—they'd started to go a little blurry by that time so I left them in one piece.

I lay on the couch in one of the rarely-used sitting rooms and thought I might save my mother a trip. I could hire some movers to pack it all up. She needn't bothered.

I'd decided to divorce my parents in turn, not like they'd even notice.

Chapter 11

When I woke up, I heard my cell phone beeping first. Bryce and Corrigan had called. And then I realized I heard scuffling from the inside of the house.

I glanced at the clock in the sitting room and saw it was 2:54 in the morning.

No doubt the scuffling was from the guys. They must've come looking for me.

Yawning, I made my way slowly down the back hallway. I knew it by heart so I left the lights untouched. Even though it was nighttime, the moonlight filtered in through the windows and lit the side hallways that ran around the house. I passed our backdoor and I was able to see the bench that ran the entire length of the wall. My mom had stored various items into bins that were all underneath that bench.

The dining room opened onto the kitchen. There were two hallways that connected to the dining room. I had walked down the side hallway that's never used.

So it was a bit disconcerting when I walked into the dining room and saw a man in the kitchen.

I didn't recognize him and he didn't know I was there. I had walked silently, like I always do, but the guy wasn't Bryce or Corrigan. He wasn't my father. And I hoped he wasn't my mom's newest bedmate.

Just then a walkie-talkie that was attached to his belt crackled to life. "Jimmy, are we clear?"

The guy snatched the radio from his belt's holster and answered, "That's a right-o, Jimmy John. We are in the clear."

"You've checked your entire section."

Jimmy sighed impatiently and snapped into the radio, "What did I just say? Did I not say that we are in the clear? That's a right-o."

It was surreal. He stood in the moonlight with his back turned to me and he was shifting through my kitchen's drawers. I stood thirty feet from him, five feet from my doorway.

If he had looked, I might've resembled a ghost.

My heart pounded in my ears and I stepped slowly, silently, backwards. He kept shuffling through the drawers and I kept reversing until I was hidden in the hallway. At the back door, I took a calming breath and kneeled on the floor. Blindly I felt around until I found the flap that kept our security keypad hidden from eyesight.

I coded in the alarm and a second later, an earsplitting alarm sounded throughout my home.

Jimmy cursed savagely. And I heard more curses and shouts.

"Jimmy, what the hell happened? That code came from your section. We aren't clear. We aren't clear!"

Jimmy dropped whatever had been in his hands and a second later, I heard his pounding footsteps on the floor.

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