EVIL VILLAIN (The Royal Court #3) - Rebel Hart Page 0,2
of the driveway and officially leaving North Postings for a while.
It’d been a while since I’d last driven down to South Postings. My family lived there, ever since my father got promoted, and all of my friends lived there as well, apart from Sicily, who lived in Postings Proper not far from the high school. The time between when Deon first went missing and the beginning of winter break, I just sort of went through the motions, but I officially started to lose it during the break. I’d stay out all night with Sicily, sometimes not coming home, and eventually my parents started to lose their patience with me. All they had to do was see my new, dramatic look and learn that I wasn’t going to any classes when school resumed after winter break to tell me that if I didn’t shape up, I was gone.
They kicked me out a week after that.
Fortunately, Ciara took me in, and at least from the standpoint that she was suffering in the same way I was, I was far more respectful of her home than my own parents’, which was far from fair. That was where I planned to start my apology. They wouldn’t get the full, honest story, because I wanted them to have deniable culpability if shit hit the fan, but I’d tell them enough to explain.
I’d have to deal with Gus too, but I was dreading that more than my parents.
Even though I had a key to the house, I knocked when I got to the front door. My heart was pounding faster than I expected it to be. They were just my parents, that was it, but that didn’t make me any less nervous.
The door opened and my mother was standing on the other side. Her face flashed a variety of emotions all in the span of about six seconds—shock, relief, anger, love, frustration—all emotions she was entitled to. “Cherri,” she finally got out.
“Hi mom,” I said, and the more normal tone of my voice must have instilled some confidence that I was better than the last time we spoke, because she smiled a little. “Um… I’m here to apologize, and explain. Can I come in?”
Instead of a verbal response, my mom reached out and curled her arms around me. She dragged me into a hug, squeezing me tightly, and I hugged her back with the same veracity. I’d always been very close with my parents, and being without them those past six months had been awful.
It felt nice to be back.
“Come in,” she said. She released me and led the way in. “Should I call Gus or just your father?”
“Just Dad for now,” I said. “Gus is going to be a whole different battle.”
She looked back over her shoulder at me. “Yes, he will.”
We walked into the kitchen, and I sat down on one of the stools at the island. My mom continued through the other exit back towards the hallway leading down to my father’s office. It was a little strange being back in the kitchen, with its marbled granite countertops and dark brown cabinetry. For some reason I was looking for differences, as if things would have changed drastically.
It was only me that had changed.
“Cherri.” I looked up and my dad was rounding the corner into the kitchen. He led with his arms out wide, and the tears that I didn’t realize I was holding back broke free.
“Daddy.” I leapt down off the stool and met my dad’s embrace, burying my face in his chest, and letting my emotions spill out. “I missed you.”
“Aw, baby,” he said in his comforting, dad-voice timber. “I missed you.” He let me go and used his thumbs to flick away my tears. “I’m happy you’re home.”
“Come, sit,” I said. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.” My parents did just that, each sitting themselves down at the island, and I walked around to the other side so I could face them both. Standing allowed me to fidget as I pushed myself to begin my apology. “I, um… I owe you guys an apology. You’re wonderful parents and you didn’t deserve the way I behaved these past handful of months.”
“I just don’t understand,” my mom said. “You’re a good young woman. I think what upset your father and I the most is that we didn’t raise you that way.”