Page 18 of Unhinged Love

When I nudge her foot under the table, she doesn’t respond. She doesn’t even move. She’s too busy picking at the burrito bowl she ordered. For one moment, I see myself taking her by the back of the head and shoving her face into the bowl. Maybe that would get her attention. But no, I keep my hands to myself, clenching them in my lap where no one else can see. This party had better go off tonight, or else I might explode if I don’t have the chance to decompress.

It’s barely four by the time we get home, and my nerves are shredded. So are Irene’s, but for a different reason. “Let’s go already!” she whines, and I notice the way she stumbles a little on her way into the house. She grabs Dad’s arm to get her balance, but it makes it look like she’s pawing at him the way she normally does.

“All right, all right.” Somehow, he manages to sound indulgent of her antics. I don’t see how. Their bags are packed and waiting inside the front door, and he wastes no time loading them into the car while she goes upstairs to make sure she didn’t forget anything.

Leaving me alone with the freak. Do I remind her what I said in the car? It might only make things worse—she might have no intention of saying anything right now, but if I bring it up, the idea of tanking my party and my life could inspire her to make a serious mistake. The kind of mistake I would never let her live down.

So I settle for staring holes through her, watching as she sinks deeper and deeper into the shell that’s always around her. The longer she spends not acknowledging me, the more I want to hurt her if it means getting a reaction. Something about her brings out every dark, hurtful impulse in me. I can’t explain it. I only know I hate her a little more with every beat of my heart.

“All right!” Irene trills, meaning I have to pull out my phone and make myself look busy doing anything other thanglaring hatefully at her daughter. She’s oblivious, though. I could probably take the girl by the throat and pin her against the wall, and Irene would roll her eyes over being inconvenienced by having to walk around us.

She comes to an unsteady stop at the bottom of the stairs and throws her arms out to the sides. “See you Monday!” She even attempts to hug Elliana, who stiffens like the slightest touch burns.

“Have a nice time,” I offer, though my gaze stays trained on the sweater-wearing freak who only wraps her arms around herself after pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose yet again.

“The two of you behave yourselves.” Irene’s laughter is light, playful, but touched with more than a little bit of deeper meaning. “I remember how it was, wanting to cut loose as soon as the adults were out of the house.”

Somehow, I don’t find it hard to imagine that at all. Paranoia makes me fall in step behind her as she struts her way out to the car, where Dad is waiting. “Don’t hesitate to call if there’s any trouble,” he says as he helps Irene into the passenger seat.

“But don’t call unless you absolutely have to!” she calls out, laughing. Dad shakes his head at her in mock disapproval before jogging around to the driver’s side.Go on, get out of here. They can’t move fast enough as far as I’m concerned. And with me blocking the door, there’s no way for Elliana to come out. Would she text Dad? Call her mom? Maybe, but I doubt it. It would mean Irene giving her a raft of shit for cutting their trip short. I’m starting to really understand the woman, how she thinks. How selfish she can be.

Not that I feel any sympathy as I turn to find the freak standing where I left her, at the foot of the stairs. There I was, figuring she would run straight up and lock her bedroom door. I’m sort of glad she didn’t, since we need to get somethingstraight, and I’m not in the mood to break her door down. “Thought you were pretty slick back at the restaurant, didn’t you?” I murmur, looking her up and down, watching her squirm. “Not slick enough. But I see you. And I have advice for you.”

At least she lifts her head enough to meet my gaze from behind those thick lenses that give her bug eyes. “Don’t fuck with me unless you plan on seeing it through,” I warn. “And accepting the consequences. Got me?”

When all she does is hunch her shoulders, I bark, “Answer me! Do you understand?” My voice echoes, filling the space, and it’s a satisfying sound. The way she flinches adds to the satisfaction.

“Yes,” she whispers. “Okay?”

“No, we are pretty far from okay, but it’s a start. Now, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll go up to your fucking room, you’ll lock the door, and you’ll stay in there all night. I don’t wanna see you. I don’t wanna hear from you. I don’t wanna remember you exist. Understand?”

“Yeah, no problem there.” Is that sarcasm I hear in her voice? She’s lucky I have too much to do to bother with her anymore. I have a party to set up.

“Don’t even think about showing your face,” I warn as she climbs the stairs. I’m willing to overlook the way she slams her door, since it means she’s on the other side of it.

If all goes well, I won’t have to see her face until tomorrow at the earliest.

For now, time to shift into party mode. I need this. I deserve this.

“Come in!First ones to show up.” Stepping back, I sweep an arm in a grand gesture, welcoming my guests inside. “You know where everything is. Make yourselves comfortable.”

Briggs and Tucker offer a fist bump as they come in, their other hands wrapped around the hands of their girlfriends. Kellan and the twins are behind them, and the almost hungry looks on the brothers’ faces tell me how much they’ve been looking forward to tonight.

“Drinks in the kitchen?” Easton asks, already on his way in that direction, with Preston and Kellan behind him. All three of them have bags in both hands.

“The keg is out in my truck—give me a hand with it?” Briggs, Tucker, and I manage to get it unloaded, then roll it into the house on a hand truck. There are other cars coming up the driveway, blaring loud music that instantly picks up my mood. It’s going to be a good night.

Or it could be, if it wasn’t for the reminder of a certain someone I want more than anything to forget. “Is Elliana coming down?” Maya asks once I’m back inside. The tank top and short skirt she wears couldn’t be more different from my stepsister’s. They might as well be two different species. Why does she even care?

“She better not,” I mutter on my way to the kitchen for a drink I desperately need.

“Why doesn’t she get to have fun?” Wren steps up close to me while I’m pouring vodka into a red plastic cup. This little routine she’s pulling might work with Briggs, but it’s not working with me. Getting in my face, playing the Good Samaritan.

“Because she’s allergic to fun.” And I’ve already talked enough about her tonight. A huge gulp of ice-cold vodka isn’t enough to dull my senses, so I take another gulp that almost empties the cup.

“Oh, come on,” Maya grumbles while the kitchen fills up with more guests. She raises her voice to ask, “Which room is hers?”

“Are you serious?” Adding more ice to my cup, I refill it, shaking my head. “It would be better if you left her alone. You know how shy she is.”

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