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The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Sawyer should’ve looked up to me after our father died, but all I’d done was given him reason to be put off by me. “Yeah. He’s dead. And I’m all you’ve got.”
Sawyer’s eyes drifted from mine and he shook his head, disgusted by my words. By my actions. By me.
I twisted away from Sawyer and stormed out of his room.
I wanted to be left the fuck alone.
CHAPTER 8
Grace
I hit the garage door opener and pulled the Jeep inside after school. I cut the engine, thankful that all the other vehicles were not in there. I hopped out and went to check my tires. All four were still flat. My heart wilted. I didn’t know why I thought Seren would do the right thing. Why I thought he’d reconsider his actions and make things right. But that clearly wasn’t who Seren Grayson was.
I hurried into the kitchen and put the keys back into the bowl where I’d gotten them, then I went down to the apartment. My mom was still working. And as much as I wanted to confide in her, I knew that she had a lot on her mind and really wanted our living arrangement to work out. I couldn’t let her know that things were not going as planned—at least for me.
I walked into my room and dropped onto my bed. I moved to my closet and pushed my clothes all the way to the left, hesitating before reaching in and pulling the powder blue sweater at the far-right side off its hanger. Tears pricked my eyes as I brought it to my nose and inhaled. My dad’s spicy scent still clung to it, so I closed my eyes and breathed it in, imagining him standing beside me. Tears escaped my closed eyes because, just for a moment, it felt like he was really there with me. I missed him so damn much. I couldn’t imagine anything hurting worse than the knowledge that I’d never hug him again. Never hear him tell me he loved me. Never be on the receiving end of his bad jokes. Never walk down the aisle beside him on my wedding day. I gave myself over to the grief for a few minutes. But that’s all I’d give it. Otherwise, I risked getting lost in it, and that wasn’t a place I wanted to stay.
I returned my dad’s sweater to its spot in the closet before freshening up my tear-stained face. Then, unsure if the air had been let out of my tiresorif they’d been slashed, I made a call to an auto shop to come check my tires. They couldn’t make it out to the manor until the following day, so it looked like I’d be taking the Jeep again in the morning.
Just before five, I got dressed in my ridiculous uniform and hurried to the manor’s kitchen through the back door. Since spring break had ended, I’d begun helping with dinner prep clean-up. I could hear a lively conversation filtering in from the dining room as soon as I took my spot at the sink. I slipped on my rubber gloves and began scrubbing the pots and pans piled up there.
“Then, Saint let the snake loose,” Sawyer said, his voice carrying through the swinging door as Janette, the server, moved between the kitchen and dining room with trays of food. “It was hysterical. All the girls were screaming and jumping on their desks.”
“Saint!” Maureen admonished.
“Someone had to make things interesting,” Saint said.
Sawyer laughed.
“I can’t believe I haven’t gotten a call yet,” Maureen said.
“You did. I intercepted it,” Saint said as if it was no big deal. “Told them I was Martine and would handle it.”
“Stay out of trouble, Saint. I’m warning you,” Maureen said, though even I didn’t believe her threat.
“What are you gonna do? Ground me?” Saint said.
“She might put you in the corner,” Sawyer added.
“You’re awfully quiet, Seren,” Maureen observed.
I stopped scrubbing the pan and listened. Would he confess to what he’d done to me?
“Where’s Martine tonight?” Seren asked, accusation heavy in his tone. “Late night at the office again?”
Silence filled the room. I wondered if he’d hit upon a sore subject or if he just had stepdaddy issues.
“Does that mean you don’t know?” he continued prying.
“Let it go,” Maureen said.
I could tell the discussion was over when I heard silverware clanking on a plate followed by a chair scraping away from the table. Footsteps neared the kitchen, so I quickly lowered my head and scrubbed away at the pan in the sink. The door swung open.
“Oh, hello,” Maureen said.
I glanced over my shoulder hoping she was speaking to Chef, but I was the only one in the kitchen. She looked nothing like the younger photos I’d seen of her. She’d clearly had plastic surgery. “Hi.”
“Oh my God.” Her face lit up upon seeing me. “The resemblance is uncanny. You look just like your mother did when we were kids. My goodness, you’re transporting me back to my days growing up in Coopersville.”
