AllFreeNovel
Share Us
1
MORGAN
Son of a bitch. Everything hurts.
Like every muscle in my body is sore after the shit show that was yesterday. I quickly push out the actual recall of yesterday—the moment they got the upper hand on me, the feeling of being scared, when I freaking broke down and cried. The only memory I cling onto is the moment Lenny got exactly what he deserved. Fucker. Though I should’ve been the one to do it. Props to Neil though. Never would’ve guessed the nerd had it in him to pull the trigger. And I hate to admit it, but it made me actually like the dude. Anyone who’s had enough and puts a stop to the problem themselves is someone I can get on board with. What I can’t get on board with is feeling sore and pathetic. But I need to get to school. The last thing I want is to give anyone—especially Ava—the indication that I’m hiding out, that she broke me.
I pull on my shoes a little slower than normal but the more I move around, the more my body loosens up, the pain subsiding a bit. When I’m finally ready and head downstairs, Mom is the first I spot in the kitchen. Concern and worry on her face. Everything about her makes me sick. “Are you sure you’re up for attending school today?” She moves closer, her fingers slowly reaching to touch my cheek before I shift away, her hand drops as she continues, “We can hang around here and just relax if you want. I think a girls’ day would be a good dose of medicine for us both.”
Her smile makes me even more nauseous. “The last girls’ day we had ended with a plane ride to Colorado and you telling me how disappointed you were in me. So as much as I’d adore that kind of lecture again, it’s afuck nofrom me.”
“That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t disappointed in you, just the situation.” She tries to continue with her BS explanation, but I cut her off.
“Doesn’t matter. No girls’ day. I’d rather watch Thatcher adjust his pants while checking out all the uniform skirt violators.”
That finally erases the concerned motherly look from her face and morphs it into alarm. Perfect. It’s exactly what she deserves for being so fucking gullible. Before, I thought her picking him was a pitiful choice. Now I know he’s just making a fool of her along with my father. And as angry as I am with him, I can’t tell her. Why? I hate him. I hate her. This should be easy to tell them both to go fuck themselves. But I don’t tell her. Instead, I bite out, “How are things with that old perv Thatcher?”
“Morgan, there’s nothing going on between us anymore,” she whispers glancing over her shoulder.
I’m almost certain we’re alone in the house—Ryder checked in approximately one million times before he left for school, and Dad wakes up the entire damn neighborhood when he’s getting ready in the morning, so I knew he’d already left after the garage door closed, punctuating his morning tirade throughout the house.
“Are you sure?” I almost stop myself, but at the end of the day, I’d rather give her a heads-up than watch Dad walk away with everything he wants. “Because if Dad did find out, wouldn’t that void your prenup and everything?”
Fuck. I messed up, because the expression she gives me is one of curiosity. “How do you know we have a prenup?”
“Not that hard to figure out since Pawpaw was worth like a billion dollars and hated Dad.” Never understood why, but the more I get to know who my father truly is, the more I realize Pawpaw saw through him before anyone else.
Mom buys my reasoning and says, “Don’t worry. My indiscretion with Thatcher was a mistake. And it’s over. For good.”
Now I’m curious, because according to what my ignorant principal told my dad, Mom wouldn’t leave him alone. “Does Thatcher know that?”
“Yes. And he understood.” She takes a step closer to me, a warm, loving expression on her face. “I know I haven’t always done right. But I want us to be closer. To go back to how it was when you actually came to me for gossip and advice.”
To go back to how it was…Out of all the images that could pop into my mind, of course it’s Cade. Specifically, his ridiculous declaration to quit the team for me. “Fuck going back. The past was bullshit, and the only direction I’m heading is forward and the fuck out of here.”
I don’t wait to hear her response, because the disappointment on her face is enough. Now she wants to have some mother-daughter connection. Fuck that. I’d rather gouge my eyes out and roast them over an open flame. But I do plan to dig a little deeper into the Thatcher situation. Because even if I don’t want to bond with Mom, I sure as fuck don’t want my dumbass father to take everything.
The closer I get to Saint Juliet, the more I feel the urge to go back home. And it’s pissing me the fuck off. I don’t stick my head in the sand. I don’t hide. I don’t back down. The only thing keeping me from going insane at this point and burning down the entire goddamn building is Ryder’s plea for me to behave and not draw more attention to us. And I will do it for him. Because now he’s roped into all this shit since he helped hide that dipshit’s body.
As I step out of my car, I still feel some tenderness in my rib cage area, but overall, it’s not bad. I can do this. I will keep my shit together and not put a foot through Ava’s face. I’ll get her back later. Somehow. Some way. And it’ll be worse than the spectacle she had me entwined in.
When I step into the hallway, the first prick I see is Thatcher. He barely makes eye contact with me, just gives me a little I’m-a-pussy-and-can’t-own-up-to-my-shit nod. So, I take the opportunity to send him a message. “Mom says hi.”
He keeps a tight expression as he glances around but doesn’t respond. Jackass.
I continue to first period, and I’m almost there when Savannah falls in stride beside me. “How are you? I called, but you didn’t answer or respond to any of my messages.” I halt, someone behind me barely touches me as they step around, apologizing while I stand and look at Savannah. “I was worried about you. After everything.”
Motherfucker. I’d be great if these clowns would leave me alone. “I’m fabulous.”
“It’s okay if you’re not.” She adds a caring hand on my shoulder as I stand there and look at her. I don’t want to explode on her. I really don’t. And I’m doing everything I can to hold it in until I see someone move beside us. Because when I look to the side, I see Ava. Every muscle in my body yearns to go after her. Punch her. Kick her. Slam her head into the wall.
But I maintain control. At least I do until she says, “I’m so sorry, Morgan.”
That’s the moment I thinkfuck it. I grab at her throat, gripping whatever I can reach. She slams back into the lockers before we go to the floor. All she does is cry and whine like a little bitch as I sit on top of her, pinning her to the ground. I get one good hit to her face in before arms loop around my waist, and I’m hauled away. But it doesn’t stop me from kicking at her, I’m pleased to connect with her chest as I’m pulled back.
“I should fucking kill you, you stupid cunt,” I scream at her, not giving a fuck about anything but getting back at her. How did I let this feeble bitch get the upper hand on me? And have something on my brother that could get him in trouble? All for some limp dicked asswipe that wasn’t worth the cum his mom should’ve let drip down her fucking leg.
“Get up,” I yell at Ava, but she remains on the floor in a fetal position, her arms cradling her head and knees tucked to her chest, as she sobs. Weak. And this is the one who wanted to teach me a lesson? “Get up and finish whatyoustarted, motherfucker.”
