to him and stand close enough that I can see sweat beading on his cowardly upper lip.
My hands curl into tight fists at my side, the bite of my fingernails in my palm keep me grounded and in control of the tempest that wants to fly free and beat his ass the way my brothers taught me to. But I am not going to jail for this asshole. “You will never, ever touch me again, Marcel. Not ever.”
His jaw trembles, but his voice is as sharp and smooth as the edge of an assassin's blade. “I don’t have to lay a hand on you to hurt you, Regan. You smug, faithless woman. I am going to ruin you. And when I find out who dared to cuckold me, I’ll do the same to him.”
“Mom?” At the sound of my daughter’s trembling, tear clogged voice, we both freeze. I brush my cheeks, clear my expression, and with my heart in my throat, turn to face her.
“You should be sleeping, Angel, are you okay?” It’s an asinine question. It’s clear from the way her stricken gaze darts frantically between her father and me that “okay” is the last thing she is. My gut clenches at the sight of tears trailing down on cheeks and the trembling hand pressed to her mouth.
She rushes to me, her arms circle my waist, and she presses her wet cheek to my chest. My heart burns with something that scares me. I hug her tight, press kisses to the top of her head, and will my voice to steady. “It’s okay, baby. I promise. Let me take you back to bed. Daddy and I will finish talking and then, I’ll come see you.” I try to pry her loose. I am desperate to get her away from us and our disaster.
She shakes her head violently and tightens her hold on me. “The man downstairs said you’re leaving. I want to come with you. Please, Mommy.”
My eyes boomerang back to Marcel, and a shiver of dread runs down my spine at the triumph in his eyes. “What man?” I demand.
“The one who is going to throw you out if you refuse to leave on your own,” he informs me in an even casual tone.
I push my daughter behind me and bare my teeth. “I dare you to try.”
He claps twice and just like that; the battle of my life begins.
18 years AGO
RIVERS WILDE
HOUSTON, TX
No Right or Wrong
REGAN
“Haven’t you learned anything from me?” My mother's question isn’t rhetorical, and she's more interested in obedience than truth. But this is one of the rare times that I can actually give her both.
“Everything.” Even the things she didn’t mean to teach me. She’s the reason I floss like it’s my side hustle, run like it’s my religion, and will never get married or have children.
“Why did you go to your grandfather when I already said no?”
I roll my eyes the way I only dare to when she can’t see me. “You told me to ask him.”
“He was supposed to say no, too. He forgets that you are my daughter,” she seethes.
“How could he? when you remind him so often?” I quip.
“Don’t get smart, child.” Her voice cracks like an ice-cold whip. My reckless good humor fizzles. I know how far to push my mother and I just danced up to the line.
“I was just joking. I’m sorry,” I say, filling my voice with contrition.
“Apology accepted,” she says with the condescension of a queen granting a pardon. Her ruffled feathers smoothed; she returns to the original conversation. “Now, tell me what agreement you two made about this job.”
“I’ll be home by midnight, I’ll go straight to bed. I don’t have to leave for school until 7:45. All my homework is done, I took a nap, worked out, ate dinner and still had time to beat Pops at a round of checkers,” I rattle off my itinerary, knowing that this is the key to her approval. Do everything that’s expected, and she’ll leave me alone.
“That’s all fine, Regan. But you don’t get kudos for the basics.”
As if I want or need her kudos. I grit my teeth to stop myself from scoffing. My spirit may be rebelling, but for my body to get in on the action, I need to make sure she doesn’t suspect anything. “I know. I just wanted you to know that I have a plan to stay on track.”
“Your grandfather and I have great expectations for you. Don’t let