nostrils flared. I'd never seen her so enraged. She jumped up in her signature Louboutins without so much as a wobble and glared down at me.
"You will not run to your father for everything. I am your mother and you are going to do as I say! You're going to stop with this little hobby of yours and come home immediately."
My hands balled into fists, nails digging into my palms creating half-moons. I thought my heart was going to pop out of my chest. Through gritted teeth, I said, "I will do no such thing. No. Such. Thing. I'm not your puppet."
I wouldn't back down. She needed to see that.
I blinked, and Mom had her hand at the back of my head, her fingers clenched my long hair. A chair scraped across the floor and Dad was up, but he wasn't fast enough. Mom pulled back her other hand and landed a shocking blow. A faint gasp escaped me as my head whipped to the side in a sharp arc of my neck.
The sound of the smack echoed across the room.
"Let go of me!"
I tried to push her away, but she wound her wrist around my hair to get a good grip, and yanked painfully hard. I yelped and stumbled into my dad's desk. I wanted to pull back, but I knew if I did she'd pull my hair even harder. She tugged again so tight, tears brimmed my eyes and I lost my footing.
"Stop!" I begged. My scalp screamed in pain. She had to have ripped out my hair.
My vision blurred. Everything in me turned cold and quiet and I surrendered. Before she let go, she gripped my hair one last time, getting in one good pull.
With my eyes squeezed shut, I held my breath and covered my face as Dad whisked her away, throwing her out of his office.
I didn't scream.
I didn't yell.
I didn't fight back.
Ever still, I stood in disbelief at the red-hot pain that laced my face from my mom's opened palm. My heart was empty. I was hollow inside. Mom had struck me. And she hadn’t stopped with her abusive words either. Hot tears began pouring from my eyes, my chest heaved up and down, and my hair covered my face. The sound of her voice was right in my ear, even though my dad had all but dragged her from his office.
I needed to get away.
"Adrianna."
Spinning on my toes, my throat was tight as I dashed from my dad's office. I held my chest as I sprinted in the opposite direction. My knees wobbled and all the muscle in my thighs turned to mush. It was all too much to withstand on top of everything else. I needed to escape, but I could barely hold myself up.
I ran through the foyer, through the formal living room and toward the formal dining area, when I trampled over my feet and caught myself on the arm of a couch, and crumbled to the floor.
"Why do you insist on torturing me?"
A small, depressed voice caught my attention. I stood up and rounded the corner and stood stock-still at the entrance to the dining room. The lights were turned down low, blinds drawn closed in a room we never used, but even through my tears I could make out the outline of their bodies at the opposite end.
"Why not?" His hand cupped her jaw. "I like to get a rise out of you. You're so fucking adorable when you're mad," Xavier joked.
I covered my mouth with my hand and blinked rapidly. My lips still burned from the slap.
No… This wasn’t what I thought it is. My best friend and my brother would never go behind my back.
His hands slowly roamed down the sides of her body. I was so lightheaded I thought I was going to faint. I squinted, trying to see if my eyes were fooling me.
Dad's worried footsteps drew closer, my heart ached in tune with my head, trying to put it all together. Avery wouldn't do this to me. She was the only real person I had left in my life. She'd never go behind my back like this.
Her forehead dropped to Xavier's chest and I stared in shock, not really processing it. She wrapped her arms around his back. "You make my blood boil," she said softly. "I want to junk punch you."
"And you make mine burn for you; even after everything you did, I still ache for you." He dropped a kiss to