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I have to grit my teeth to keep from screaming. “Whatever you want.”
The smile stays on my face for as long as it takes to steer my gaze from Adam to Ilarion. Then it withers immediately.
“Is that supposed to be some sort of joke?” I hiss.
He folds his arms and puts his weight on the wall. “Another thing your sister hasn’t shared with you, huh?”
“You’re married.”
“Are we?”
“Um, yes. I’ve seen the pictures.”
“Well, there you go then, I suppose. Pictures always tell you everything you need to know about every situation.”
“Are you going to actually tell me what the hell you’re talking about, or are you just enjoying this game too much?”
“You want to know? You really want to know?”
“Yes!” I cry out. “For God’s sake, yes!”
He shrugs. “Then ask your sister.”
I swear I could strangle him right now. “I’m askingyou.”
“You want something from me now,tigrionok? It will only come at a cost.”
“What cost?”
Ilarion’s scowl deepens. “The fuckingtruth.”
I push myself off the window seat and stand opposite him, chest-to-chest. “You didn’t bring me here to get to know your son,” I snarl under my breath. “You brought me here because you want to blow my world up.”
He smirks, but there’s darkness in his eyes. He still hasn’t forgiven me for leaving. Maybe he never will. “Perhaps you do know me after all.”
I brush past him, and even though our skin doesn’t actually make contact, I can feel the kind of heat that only comes from touching him. I force the fury out of my face for Adam’s sake before I turn to him. “Sweetheart, I’m gonna go get some water, okay?”
“Okay, Mama,” he says without so much as glancing toward me.
I get the hell out of that room and out of his stifling presence. Why did I let my father convince me that coming back with Ilarion was a good freaking idea? I should have fucking run.
With adrenaline coursing through my body, I find myself stomping over to his room. I pound on his door until he throws it open. His room is dark, like he’s been asleep, but his eyes are wide and alert.
I push past him, walk to the windows, and throw open the curtains to let the light stream in. That’s what we need—light. Truth. There’s been too much damn darkness in this family for too damn long.
“Taylor? What on earth are—”
I whirl around to face him. “Don’t like the light, do you, Dad?” I demand. “It’s probably easier to see all your mistakes with this sunshine coming through, I bet, hm?”
“Taylor, what is this tantrum about?”
“Tantrum?” I repeat furiously. “Tantrum?I don’t throwtantrums,Dad.”
“How about the night that you moved out of the house in the middle of the night without so much as an explanation or a warning? Isn’t that the same night that you crawled into Ilarion’s car?”
I’m not expecting the bite in his tone or the anger in his eyes. He’s in fighting form today and I don’t mind one bit. It’s much harder to wage war when one person is waving around a white flag.
“What exactly are you trying to say?”
