didn’t like me now. When I asked Aspen if she knew why, she hadn’t a clue. They weren’t sharing with her or me, so I was guessing maybe they were just being hypocritical.
Aspen said they were repeating history, thinking I was a bad influence. I didn’t know what she meant by that, and she didn’t seem inclined to explain. She started cursing, swearing they couldn’t control her once she got to college, and I’d lose her for a while on one of those tangents. I learned to pick my battles.
Her parents weren’t going to get between us. I wouldn’t let that happen.
But, they were Aspen’s parents, and they were giving a shit about her, and since I was trying to be a better person, I refrained from raising hell in the Monson household.
I also didn’t mind in one sense because they were caring. They were doing their job.
Didn’t mean I didn’t dream sometimes about going in and rocking the boat. Or that sometimes I wanted to upturn it, fling them into the sea, and only offer a paddle if they got off their high horses.
I mean, I felt that way when they picked their weekend to come back to Fallen Crest.
Still. Good guy. I was trying here.
I shrugged. “They can’t lock her in an ivory castle once she gets here.”
Stephen studied me. “You know, your mother knows people who know the Monsons. We could talk to someone if you wanted us to pull some strings.”
I shot him a look. “You think I need your help to see my girlfriend?”
His face went blank. “No, of course not.”
He turned away.
Marie’s eyes narrowed, resting on him before turning to me. “I have friends. I have connections. I can say one thing to Malinda Decraw-Strattan, and trust me, she could turn the Monsons’ world upside down.”
“Don’t, Mom,” I growled.
This was going from decent to nasty in a heartbeat. We were past the unpleasant level, skyrocketing past it.
“But why?” She stepped toward me, gesturing to Stephen. “Your dad—”
“HE’S NOT MY FATHER!”
I’d been quiet.
I’d been silent when I first found out about my real father.
And maybe it wasn’t totally the father thing. Maybe I was more pissed about Aspen’s parents than I wanted to believe, but I was here.
My control snapped.
I didn’t know why. Well, that’s a lie. I knew, but now she was better. Mom was getting better. She wasn’t so broken now, and I wasn’t alone.
“Hey!” Stephen turned back.
“No! You too—shut up.”
“HEY!” He surged for me.
I locked down, flinching, but putting a wall up.
I couldn’t help myself.
Griffith had come at me with punches. He’d rain down on me until he got a good punch in and I saw stars, and then he’d ram my head into whatever was closest—the wall, the corner of a piece of furniture. It didn’t matter.
When I went down, the kicking started.
I was instantly ready for an attack, and they both saw it.
Stephen froze, drawing in a breath. Horror flared over his face. “Son.”
“Honey,” my mother whispered.
I was cornered.
I needed an out.
I looked, but Stephen was blocking the doorway.
He saw where I was looking and drew in another ragged breath before swinging wide, out of the way. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just didn’t want you to disrespect your mother.”
I laughed, and even I winced at the sound coming from me, ’cause that was no laugh. I didn’t know what it was. It was heinous. It was harsh. It was empty.
It was tortured.
But I made the sound anyway, and I couldn’t stop. I shook my head, moving out of the room.
The walls were closing in.
The ceiling coming down.
The floor rising.
I was going to get crushed.
I had to get out.
Get out, get out, GET THE FUCK OUT!
“Honey.”
I heard her behind me, but there was a rushing sound in my head.
I could see out the living room window into the parking lot, but I wasn’t really seeing shit.
I was seeing him.
Swinging at me.
Towering over me.
I closed my eyes. I couldn’t handle it.
But then it got worse. I drew in a sharp breath, and I couldn’t breathe.
There was no more air.
I could feel it—kicking, hitting. And I could hear him—the taunts, the threats, the mocking. That fucker liked to tear me down in every fucking way possible.
The burns.
I could smell it. My skin.
Fuck.
I hadn’t smelled that smell in years. He only did it once, stopping because she caught me, seeing it. I lied, said it was a bully from school. He’d stopped doing it after that, seeing how pissed she got,