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Her chapped lips curl around a short laugh. “Yeah, right. I’m not under any illusion that she doesn’t go behind my back with things. Why should she be forthcoming to her mother when she knows her dad and brother are gonna bail her out, regardless?”
A sharp pain slices across my heart at the annoyance in her tone—not so much because I think she actually cares about Riley keeping secrets, but because I can tell she doesn’t like not being in control. People like LeeAnn don’t want to be caught off guard, and Riley’s very existence poses a problem for her in that department.
Again, I ignore the implication that her rocky relationship with Riley is somehow related to me, choosing to change the subject. At least, at her dad’s house, Riley’s safe. He lives in Portland with his wife and owns a construction company that specializes in eco-friendly commercial building. A decent man, comparatively.
Gesturing toward the outfit she’s wearing, I raise an eyebrow. “Got a hot date with your probation officer, then? What’s with the suit?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” she says, not missing a beat. Venom unleashes from her tongue, always a double meaning behind her words, and I can tell that beyond wanting my money, she’s not impressed at all by the fact that I’ve made a name for myself.
The sinking feeling that accompanies the realization is unwelcome, and I shove it down before it can take root inside my soul. As if it’s not been embedded there since I was a kid.
“I wear suits to work because that’s the kind of attire my job requires.”
“A job you stole from that poor Ivers boy. God, how can you even look at yourself in the mirror, knowing everything you touch is not rightfully yours?”
Clenching my jaw, I take a step back toward the door, the urge to flee surfacing. Flashes from the other night, blood and fists and ear-splitting screams float across my vision, reminding me what happened last time my temper snapped.
I’ve got to get out of here.
“Oh, what’s the matter, dear? Not ready to face the facts?” She shrugs one bony shoulder, giving me a nasty grin. “You’re a Kelly, no matter how hard you try to pretend otherwise. Not only would the Ivers never accept you, but you’re destined for a life of being unworthy. Just the way the world works. People like us don’t get what we want.”
“Please don’t lump us into the same category,” I snap, my patience wearing thin. “We might share a last name, but we’re not the fucking same.”
“The way you attacked me and my date last week proves otherwise.” Her smile turns sadistic, stretching thin across her hollow face.
My watch beeps, the alarm I set alerting me that my time here is up. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Shocker,” she spits, taking a large drink of her coffee. The slurp that comes after grates on my nerves, violence coursing through my veins the longer I’m in her presence. “Running at the first sign of trouble. You really are my son.”
“Yeah, remember how you used to hate that?” I say, the sudden flare of shock on her face satisfying; she buries it quickly, schooling her features into an innocuous mask. I huff, disgusted with the way she cowers after dragging the beast out in me, and turn for the door.
When I was a kid, I was starved for her attention. I let her serve it to me on a silver platter, and devoured any shred she’d give me, even if it was malicious in its intent. Even if she dipped it in poison first.
I was supposed to graduate from that need, from wanting her to treat me right. Should’ve realized she wasn’t capable when she ditched me as a kid, and definitely shouldn’t have welcomed her back years later, as if she’s a person capable of changing.
But when you’re spoon-fed malice your whole life, it mainlines into your bloodstream, becoming part of you. Until it’s all you know, all you crave.
Hatred is addictive, and LeeAnn is my goddamn drug. One I choose over everything—over my sanity, over Riley. Despite the times she’s begged me to let her stay at my place, despite knowing the environment here is toxic, I let my hatred cloud my judgment. Let resentment over Riley being the kid she kept bar me from taking care of her properly.
Fiona’s words from the gala weeks ago play on repeat as I stare at the door, twisting the barbed wire around my heart so the organ pricks and bleeds.
People don’t change.
Even though I’d challenged the sentiment at the time, wondered what made her so concrete in her convictions, I know she’s right. If people changed, my life would be different.
I’d be different.
But here I am, the weak, violent bastard I’ve always been, wondering what it’ll take for me to snap and not come back.
My hand grips the doorknob, the metal moaning as I squeeze, my thoughts racing. I hear her chuckle, and it pulls me from the introspection, launching me into a stratosphere of rage. Releasing the knob, I stalk over to where she’s leaning against the kitchen counter, regarding me like she can’t stand to be in the same room as me.
“One of these days, I will fucking end you,” I snarl, my hand curling around her thin neck, fingernails sinking into her skin. Spittle sprays across her face, and she cringes, trying to move back out of my hold, but I tighten my grip and bend so we’re eye level. “Because unlike you, LeeAnn, I don’t bow to my demons. I become their worst fucking nightmare, and if you continue to push me, you will not enjoy the result.”
“Are you threatening me?” she squeaks. “I could have you arrested for that.”
“Like anyone would believe a thieving junkie over me. I have pull in town that you can’t even fucking dream of, so my suggestion to you is to fuck off and leave me alone. And if I catch even a whiff of evidence that you’ve taken any of your frustration out on Riley, I’ll slit your throat before you can even attempt to explain. Got it?”
Her eyes narrow, but she tries to nod, anyway. I release her, smacking her cheek roughly, before turning on my heel and getting the fuck out of there before my anger makes me do something I regret.
