AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I don’t know if he can sense how close to breaking I am or if he has learned to listen better than he did in eighth grade, but he agrees, letting me slide down his chest until my feet touch the ground. Biting my lip, I try not to let him see how much putting weight on my legs hurts. Bending my knees is going to be a bitch, but I have to stand on my own two feet and stick to the plan.
With a tentative step, I start making my way across the large kitchen. Behind me, I can hear rustling, then the heavy fall of a sneaker on linoleum. I don’t turn, just hold my hand up. “I got it!” I snap, louder and harsher than I meant to. For some odd reason, pain makes me into a bit of a snappy bitch, go figure.
Mindy looks up at that and rushes over to help me. “Men! They are so useless. Even when they use their second head, they still don’t accomplish much. Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma’am and no finesse. Poor thing!” She shoots a glare over my shoulder and I have to bite my lip for a whole different reason than pain. “Totally worthless!”
Peeking over my shoulder I see Jace standing where I left him, his hands fisted, jaw slightly slack as he watches me walk away with Mindy. Turning to watch where I am going, I gingerly step over the raised sill and into the mudroom/laundry room. The door to my room is ajar and I can hear Brax moving around.
As I step into the room, he springs forward, startling me. “Here, let me–”
“I got it!” I snap, ready to be away from them.
The kicked-puppy-dog look on his face almost has me caving, but then I remember the laughter, the “pigeava” and I harden myself to his manipulations. “Go find someone else to baby.” I take the final steps to the bed and sit down. Pulling wet, bloody jeans off the cuts is going to hurt like a bitch and I don’t want them around for the show.
“I can—”
“No. Just go.” I sigh already tired of fighting.
“Keava! Let us–” Jace starts to say as he walks into the door.
“I. said. Go,” I bite out each word while digging my nails into my palms. “I don’t need or want your help. Go find another damsel in distress, cause that is not me.” I let every ounce of hatred, of pain fill my hard gaze as I glare at them.
“Keava,” Brax’s voice is quiet, almost broken sounding. Or that is what I think I hear at least, or maybe it is wishful thinking.
Shaking my head, I point to the door. “No! You lost the right to have any say. Please, just go.” Head down, I study my palms, flinching at the nail marks that cross over the gravel burns. Or is it concrete burns? I let my brain go down the rabbit hole of the proper way to describe the mess my hands are as I wait for the boys to leave.
I know myself too well. I hate conflict, hate having this feeling of disquiet over me, and if they apologize before they know the pain they put me through, I will give in and forgive them. Even with no idea what that would look like, I know—beyond a shadow of a doubt—it would, eventually, cause resentment on my part. They have to pay, and pay they will.
