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“I swear to God if that four-eyed fucker has laid even one finger on you, Ava, hell will seem like a pleasant stroll in the park compared to the rain of shit I will bring down on him.”
My stomach plummets. I know this isn’t an empty threat. Logan means every word, and the thought of him going after Mason makes fear claw at my insides. I may have turned a blind eye to Logan’s ruthless bullying over the years, but that doesn’t mean I’m not fully aware of what he is capable of. He will not only push Mason to the edge, but he will also test his limits far beyond it. And that’s not something I want him to suffer because of me.
“Nothing is going on with Mason and me. We are just working on an English paper together. There is nothing more to it,” I lie, hoping like hell he buys it.
“I certainly hope so. Especially for his sake,” he grinds out, and fury seeps into my veins at his pure audacity. I fucking hate that he can dictate my life like this.
“Fuck you, Logan!” I cry. My rage is now so overwhelming that tears sting my eyes. “Don’t call me again.”
I hit the end call button and shut my phone off, making a mental note to block his new number as soon as I got home. Laying my head back, I take long and slow breaths in an attempt to calm down.
What was an amazing afternoon with Mason has gone downhill so fast that I almost want to scream into the silence of my car to expel some of that frustration binding itself around me in a tight grasp.
It was all so simple a few minutes ago. I was going to take that leap with Mason and see where it goes. I was excited about it.
But now.
Now everything just got complicated.
* * *
When I enterthrough the front door, I am met with silence. The foyer is dark, the light from the living room streaming across the marbled floors in front of me.
Walking into the living area, I spot my mom asleep on the couch with a photo album clutched to her chest. Gently prying it from her grip, I place it on the coffee table and grab the blanket that’s draped over the top of the backrest. As I unfold it, my stomach drops when I notice the large wet patch on the crotch of her pants.
Jesus Christ. Not again.
Letting out an exasperated sigh over the fact that she has pissed herself in her sleepagainfor the third time this month,I give her shoulder a shake.
“Mom!”
Getting no response, I press on her shoulder with a bit more force. “Mom, wake up.”
Her eyelids flutter, and she lets out a groan, batting her hands as if warding off some unwanted pest. The front door shuts with a bang, and hearing footsteps approaching, I turn to see my father enter the room. His black jacket is undone, his blue tie hanging loosely from his neck, a look of fatigue adorning his features as his eyes land on mine.
He has aged well, my father. The subtle wrinkles around the corners of his eyes only become more prevalent when he smiles, and if it weren’t for the specks of gray hair scattered through his black hair, you would never know he is in his late forties.
“Hello, Ava,” his gruff voice rumbles, then his expression hardens when he spots my mother on the couch.
“Hi, Dad,” I reply, then gesture toward my mother. “Can you help me get her up?”
He approaches and immediately notices the wet patch between her legs. “For fuck’s sake,” he snaps. “How much did she have to drink?”
“I’m not sure. A bottle of wine, maybe two? I don’t keep track of how much she drinks.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” he scolds. “You need to take better care of her! She is your mother, and I don’t need to come home to this.”
“Are you kidding me?” I cry. “Do you think I want to come home to this? What exactly do you want me to do? I’m only eighteen.”
“Exactly, you are eighteen. You are a grown adult now and need to step up and help out with this family,” he fires back and starts pacing the room, raking his fingers through his hair.
“I have been helping. I was the one who left school and went to collect her from the hospital, remember? Where were you, huh?” I bite back as my vision starts to blur with unshed tears.
He stops and pins me with a stern look. “I was in court. I have obligations to my clients.”
“What about your obligations to your wife? You are never home. It’s your job to look after her.”
“I have a business to run! A business that is keeping a roof over our heads and paying for your college tuition.”
