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“Isaac James Perry!”
The man winces like he knows he’s in deep shit with his mother when she uses his full name. Gritting his teeth together so hard I can hear them grinding, he says to me, “You’ve got ten seconds to get the fuck off my property.”
“So sorry about this and everything else, Barrett,” Pamela Perry yells to me.
“I didn’t mean to cause any problems for Lyla,” I reply as I start walking backward down the road to keep an eye on Isaac.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lyla
I’ve just turned off my bedside lamp to try and cozy down in the sheets to get some sleep when my bedroom door bursts open so hard it bangs against the wall.
I pop up into a sitting position right when the overhead lights flip on. My father storms into my room wearing wrinkled dress pants and his cut over a white dress shirt. His face is red, and he looks angry enough to breathe fire. My grandmother is right behind him.
“What’s going on? You scared the crap out of me, Dad,” I tell him while my heart continues to race.
“You’re not going to see that son of a bitch again!”
Ah, he must have run into Barrett outside.Damn.I hope he’s still in one piece.
“Since I didn’t hear any gunshots, does that mean he’s still alive?”
My grandmother gives a small nod while my father ignores the question.
“What were you thinking, Lyla? You’re a good girl! You’ve got a bright future, and that boy is just some outlaw biker.”
“Yeah, well, so are you!”
“He’s also your sister’s ex-husband!”
“You didn’t have a problem with him when he was with Laurel…” His forehead wrinkles as he glares at me. “What?”
“Jesus, baby girl, you don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
My dad glances at my grandma and then to me. “Tonight, Laurel married someone else.”
“Yeah. And?”
“And he used you!”
“No, he didn’t,” I immediately respond.
“He used you like-like some kind of payback for her breaking his heart!”
“You’re wrong.”
I look to my grandmother, hoping she’ll step in and tell him he’s out of his mind. She doesn’t make a peep.
“He could’ve let me catch him on purpose, so she’ll find out,” my father says.
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Don’t be naive, Ly. He’s a man, a hurt man who wanted to hurt Laurel back by fucking her little sister on her wedding night!” I flinch at his use of the f-word, even though it’s technically what we did. Hearing him say it, though, makes it sound so…so meaningless. It didn’t seem that way at the time. But now that it’s over and Barrett’s gone without a word about seeing me again, I’m not so sure…
“You look a helluva lot like your sister, Lyla,” he adds, and I’m already shaking my head.
