Page 73 of Chaos

“Why don’t you come next—”

“No.” I cut Erica off, snatching away the flyer she reaches around me to grab and crumpling it into a ball. “He can’t come here.”

Erica frowns. “Everyone is welcome, Lottie.”

“He’s not.”

Heshifts his rotten gaze to me. “Do I know you, girl?”

I think he does. I think he knows of me, at least, but then again, maybe he doesn’t. He wouldn’t find the siblings of his daughter’s boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—at the bottom of a bottle, so why would we be worthy of his attention? We’ve never metso he wouldn’t recognize me specifically, but maybe my face is vaguely familiar to him the same way his is to me. Maybe he sees my brother like I see his daughter.

Except I doubt that.

Because he’s never seen my brother the way I’ve seen his daughter.

And as the memory of her blank, bloodied face flashes through my mind, I all but yell, “He doesn’t deserve help.”

I don’t care if it’s a horrible thing to say, like Erica’s hiss suggests. I don’t care about the very foundation of AA, the number one rule. I do not feel anything for that violent, wretched man other than contempt and disgust and fear.

And nausea. It makes me feel sick that I share anything in common with him. It makesmewant to do something violent myself, to see how he likes it.

If I stay here a second longer, I might. But to leave, I’ve got to get past him, and my stupid fucking shoes mean I can’t quite storm effectively, they slow me down, they give him a chance to grab me.

The second his overgrown, yellowed nails bite into my skin, I rip my arm from his grip. “Do not touch me.”

“You’re one of them.”

One of them. Like we’re a gang or some shit. Not the closest thing his daughter has to a family—though I don’t think anyone would include me in that bracket.

Apparently, verbal confirmation is unnecessary. All Ken Brennan needs is a good look at my face to answer his own question. Sniffing, he rubs the back of his hand beneath his nose in a way that makes me think alcohol isn’t his only vice anymore. “You know where she is?”

Loved up in the middle-of-nowhere Georgia, the last I heard, but fuck if I’m telling him that. I might not be Caroline’s biggestfan, but I’m not a monster. The only thing I’m telling the man who threw fuckingglassat his daughter’s face is to, “Rot in hell.”

“Lottie.” Fingers wrap around my bicep, yanking me back, forcing distance between me and Ken likeI’mthe danger here, likeI’min the wrong. “That’s enough.”

It’s not. Not nearly. Nasty quips are the least of what he deserves, the least of what he doled out. Maybe it makes me a hypocrite, maybe I should hop off of my high horse, but fuck. I’m a mean bitch, drunk or sober, and I was never Caroline’s biggest fan, but I’m nothim. I can’t be him.

I’d rather fucking die than be him.

“Ask him what he did to his daughter,” I spit at Erica as I stomp the final few steps towards the exit. “Then you can decide if you still wanna give him your little pep talk.”

Besides throwing myself in the truck and commanding my sister to drive like a criminal fleeing a scene, I don’t say a word on the way home—much to Lux’s dismay. She doesn’t know how to take my silent simmering. I can tell she thinks it has something to do with her. I reckon the father of our brother’s ex-girlfriend is the last thing that comes to her mind as the cause of the dark cloud hovering above my head.

I don’t know why seeing him has made me feel so… raw. Not just angry, which I am plenty of, but uncomfortable too. Confronted, in a way. Like the universe is punishing me for wanting to drink yesterday, thrusting the worst version of I could become in my face.

For once, I can’t get inside the main house quick enough. I need the hustle and bustle to overwhelm everything else, todistract me from ponderingthathorrifying thought any longer. But of course, the one time I’m in a hurry, Lux hangs back.

With a light grip, she makes me hang back with her, turning me towards a warily concerned face. “We’re okay, yeah?”

As it so often does when faced with my sister, guilt tickles the back of my throat. “Yeah.” I cough, only briefly hesitating before ripping the Bandaid off ‘cause I figure a little honesty might do me good. “Caroline’s dad was at my meeting.”

In the time it takes her to blink, Lux’s face contorts with ugly, raw anger. “Did you talk to him?”

“He came in after we’d already finished.” I wet my bottom lip. “I told him to go to hell.”

“Good girl,” comes out of her mouth instinctively before mother-mode kicks in. “Don’t speak to him again. I don’t want him anywhere near you.”

“You’re so right.” I snap my fingers. “Ishouldstop going to meetings.”

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