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I swear when I met him I had no idea what he was involved in. It was one horrifying unveil after another until I could no longer deny the truth.
He was a horrible person, and I had to do anything I could to get away from him.
When the remembrance of how desperate things got floods my mind, I swish my tongue around my suddenly dry mouth. It worsens the churns of my stomach. My mouth tastes like roadkill, and my teeth are furry.
Never one to leave a bad impression, I carefully pry myself out from beneath the blanket spread across my thigh, cover Brodie, then creep toward the stairs. The creak of the floorboard gives away my flee, but instead of revealing he is awake like his no longer gaped mouth does, Brodie pretends he is still asleep.
It would hurt like hell if I hadn’t caught my reflection in the hallway mirror. I look as bad as I feel. My hair is knotted, my skin is pale and blotchy, and I’m not wearing pants.
Great!
I didn’t think matters could get worse, but I’m proven wrong when I can’t tiptoe past Lucy’s room without checking in on her. She is curled up on a smidge of the mattress her uncle isn’t hogging, clutching her toy rabbit. She’d kept my thoughts far from her father during the first two hours of her return from the ice cream shop, but once bedtime arrived and Thane apologized for pushing me into the shit pile with a bottle of vodka, my emotions got swept away on me and I stupidly put my feelings before hers.
Did she have a nightmare? Is that why Thane is sleeping in her bed? If so, why was Brodie downstairs with me instead of with his daughter? She is meant to be his main priority. My placement was meant to ensure that.
It seems to be doing the opposite, and I need to stop it before I hurt her more than I already have.
With Amelia confident she could convince me to stay, it took me longer to pack than expected. Lucy and Thane are now awake. I can hear them chatting in the kitchen that for the first time in a week doesn’t smell like a disaster in process.
“Henley!” Lucy shouts when she spots me by the door. She races around the island covered with an array of breakfast foods. “Daddy is making breakfast. His pancakes are better than mine…” Her words trail off to silence when she spots my suitcase. “You’re leaving?” Before I can answer, she slings her head to her father and shouts, “I told you she would leave. You scared her away!”
Brodie stops flipping pancakes before he darts his eyes between my suitcase and me. He looks upset. Perhaps even a little devastated, but just like I couldn’t, he can’t get a word in between Lucy’s shouts for him to fix his mistakes and to not let me leave.
“I begged for her. She is my wish, so you’re not allowed to scare her away.”
“Lucy, I—” She cuts me off by banding her arms around my thigh and hugging me tight.
“You’re my wish. I wished for you on my birthday last year. You can’t go. Please, Henley. I don’t want you to go.”
“This isn’t your dad’s fault. He didn’t do anything wrong. This is on me.” Careful not to hurt her since she’s gripping me for dear life, I peel her off me before bobbing down to her height. My heart breaks when I see the tears streaming down her face, but my wish for her not to blame her father is my sole focus. “I wasn’t meant to come—”
“Yes, you were. I wished for you.” Her pigtail slaps me when she spins to face Brodie and Thane frozen on the other half of the kitchen. “Remember the shooting star? I had just blown out my candles, and it whizzed over our heads. You said I could make two wishes. I only made one.” Her eyes are back on me, blinking and wet. “I wished for you, and you came. I just had to be patient.”
“Honey, I…”
I’m lost for words, so Brodie steps in. “You can’t force someone to stay when they don’t want to, Lucy. That isn’t how life works. They need to want to stay for themselves.”
His words resonate with me more than I could ever express, but Lucy just hears excuses. “She wants to stay. You’re just too stupid to tell her you like her more than Uncle Thane does!”
“Hey, Lulu, come on, calling people names isn’t nice,” Thane pipes up. “We talked about this last night.”
“It isn’t a name when it’s true,” Lucy fights back, her eyes hot and heavy on Brodie. “If she leaves, I’ll never forgive you. I will hate you for eternity.”
She doesn’t quite get her last word out right, but it cuts through Brodie like a knife. The vein in his neck works overtime as his jaw stiffens, but he keeps a calm head—for the most part. “Go to your room.”
