AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She stares at me for a bit longer before looking away with hurt in her eyes. “All right.” Then she steps inside the house and heads straight up to our bedroom.
Releasing a sigh, I move to chase after her so I can tell her … well, I’m not certain yet, but then our dad pulls into the driveway and my worries transfer elsewhere.
I step back outside onto the porch. “Hey, Bay, Payton, can you guys go up to your room for a bit? I need to have a chat with Dad.”
“About the alcohol he buried in the backyard?” Bailey glances at our dad’s truck.
“Yeah.” Another lie. At this point, I’ve told so many I’m starting to get tangled up in them. “Well, that and a couple other things.”
“Good.” With a firm nod, she goes inside.
Payton follows, patting me on the shoulder. “Don’t go easy on him, Had,” she encourages. “He doesn’t deserve it.”
“Oh, I won’t,” I swear. When she shoots me an unconvinced frown, I stress, “I know I’ve gone easy on him in the past, but I’m at my final straw. It’s time he understands that we’re not going to put up with any more of his shit.”
Her lack of confidence in me decreases a notch. “Good. And if you need any help, shout for us, okay? Don’t let him bully you into backing off.”
“All right.” But I’m not about to bring them into this. As the oldest, my job is to protect them. To keep them away from our dad. To make sure they’re safe. To make sure they’re happy, even if it means giving them some of my happiness.
My attention briefly strays to the Porterson house. Does Blaise ever feel this way? Like he’s okay with being less happy as long as his siblings are content?
I instantly shake my head. Why, oh, why did I start thinking about him again?
Get him out of your damn head, woman!
Shifting my focus off Blaise’s house, I trot down the steps and approach my dad’s truck. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat, distracted by his phone. The duffel bag I saw him collect earlier is on the passenger seat.
When he remains oblivious to me standing there, I tap my knuckles against the window. He jumps so badly he drops his phone.
“Shit.” He hastily collects his phone from the floor and straightens in his seat, blinking at me. “Hadley, where’d you come from?”
“The house.” I hitch my thumb over my shoulder. “Didn’t you see me walking down the driveway?”
He shakes his head then rolls the window down all the way. “But, what’re you doing at home?” His puzzled expression alters into a scowl. “Wait. You aren’t cutting out on class, are you?”
“Like you’d care if I was. You never have before,” I say bitterly. “And no, I’m not cutting.” I don’t offer a further explanation as I open the truck door. “You and I need to talk.”
He has the audacity to appear perplexed. “About what?”
“About the bag you buried in the backyard.” I glance at the bag on the seat. “And that one right there, too, if it has the same contents as the one in the backyard.”
His eyes fleetingly widen, but then he narrows them into slits. “How many times have I told you to stay out of my goddamn business?”
I lean in closer, lowering my tone. “When your goddamn business could get you arrested and Child Protective Services called, then it becomes my goddamn business.”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” he hisses, glancing around in a panic. “And stay out of my fucking business.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m not going to this time. I’ve had enough. I had enough a long time ago, actually—ever since Mom died—but I let you get away with a lot of shit because I felt sorry for you. That was my mistake. I’m not going to do it anymore.”
“What exactly are you trying to say?” His tone is like ice.
“That if you don’t cut this shit out”—I point at the backyard and nod at the bag—“then I’m going to try to gain guardianship of my sisters. I’m eighteen now, and I know, under the right circumstances, I can get it.”
“You can’t do that,” he warns lowly, turning in his seat. “Again, you’re forgetting who the parent is. Those are my daughters in that house. A house I pay for us to live in.” He grinds his teeth. “And you’re my daughter, too, even though I wish you weren’t right now.”
My heart squeezes in my chest, but I shove my walls up.
Don’t let him get to you. Don’t feel a thing.
“I …” That’s when I smell the whiskey on his breath. I shake my head. “Great, you’re drunk, and you’ve been driving around town. Awesome parenting example, Dad.”
“I just had one drink,” he snaps, the vein in his neck bulging. “And what I do as a parent is none of your business.”
“It is, too, my damn business!” My voice is rising as my temper gets the best of me. “You can’t just do whatever you want and think it’s not going to affect us! Because it does! All the time! You don’t pay the bills, you don’t take care of us, and you haven’t since Mom died. And if she were here, she’d be so disappointed in you—”
He lunges from the truck and strikes me across the face so hard my ears ring.
I move back, cupping my cheek, when he comes at me again, this time bringing his hand down on top of my head. My teeth clank together as tears sting my eyes and blood drips from my nose. Shock whips through me.
Holy shit, he’s going to beat the shit out of me.
He comes at me again with his fist raised, but stumbles, giving me just enough time to swing around him.
I start to take off up the driveway when he grabs my hair. I let out a cry, more tears falling from my eyes. I’m not even sure if the tears are from the pain in my body or my heart. I don’t even care anymore.
Balling my hand into a fist, I swing at him, my knuckles colliding with his shoulder. He grunts, but then yanks on my hair harder.
“Goddamn, Hadley, why can’t you just let this go!” he screams out. “You don’t even know what you’re messing with!”
“A monster!” I shout as I grab his hand and try to pry his fingers off my hair. “Let me go!” I scream.
More screams echo. Not mine.
I glance toward the house and spot Londyn striding forward. Payton and Bailey are by the side door, Payton holding Bailey back with tears streaming down her eyes.
“Let her go!” Londyn shouts at our dad.
Either he doesn’t hear her, or he’s lost his mind, because he only yanks on my hair harder and spins me around toward the truck.
“No!” he yells, his grip constricting. “You couldn’t just leave me alone. Why can’t you just leave me alone?” His voice catches.
I think he might be crying, yet he still doesn’t release my hair.
“Mel, let her go.” The firm voice belongs to a guy, but it takes my wired mind a second to connect a face to it.
Blaise.
“Stay out of this,” my dad snaps at him. “This is none of your business.”
“Do I need to remind you who my father is?” Blaise asks calmly as he hoists himself over the fence and lands in our yard. Then he stalks toward us, taking measured steps. “Now, let go of Hadley, get in the truck, and get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.”
“Too late.” Londyn moves up beside Blaise, her wide eyes fixed on me and Dad. “I already called them.”
“Shit,” my dad and I say at the same time.
My dad quickly releases my hair and dives into his truck, slamming the door. I start to storm after him—no way am I letting him just take off and leave this mess to me—but arms are wrapped around me, holding me back.
“Just let him go,” Blaise says softly in my ear. “It’s better if he’s gone.”
“I don’t want him here”—tears fall from my eyes, but my tone is so hollow—“but if he’s not, my sisters are going to get taken away from me. He needs to give me guardianship first.” I’m about to crumble, fall to pieces that I may never be able to pick up.
I suck in a breath. Then another.
Don’t fall to pieces, Hadley. Keep it together.
Then I hear the sirens, and I damn near collapse.
“I’ll help you,” Blaise whispers, holding me up. “But you have to keep your shit together, okay? They’ll probably take your sisters for a little bit, but I can help you get them out. I promise.”
I nod, hoping to God I can trust him.
At this point, I’m not sure if I’ll ever trust anyone again.
Chapter 22
Like I expected, Social Services show up to take my sisters to a group home while I get patched up in the ambulance and answer an officer’s questions.
