Page 53 of Love is Angry

Madison moves away from the window and into a dark spot where she can’t be seen from the outside. Cameron almost spots me when he tries to peek through, but I drop on the floor behind the sofa and breathe calmly, waiting for him to grow tired and leave.

“Anyone there?” Lindsey calls out. She’s trying the door, but it’s still locked. “Fuckers.”

“Selfish dicks!” Cameron adds, then Madison and I sit in utter silence while listening to the sound of their footsteps receding.

They’re going back to the road, now, and we’re in the clear. They passed the hazing ritual, too, though I do wonder if Mackenzie gave them a pass. Given how determined she was to piss me off, I would have expected her to come around a few more times throughout the night. Maybe she did. Maybe she saw those two on the rattan loveseat outside and decided to spare them the monstrous humiliation of an airsoft massacre.

The more I think about last night, the higher my temperature goes as I remember what almost happened between Madison and me. She is genuinely fearful of me, and we’re clearly in a belligerent dynamic, here; but the way she moved in my arms, the deliciously gruff sound of her orgasm, the feel of her slickness against the palm of my hand…

“I reckon things are gonna be awkward in class tomorrow,” I chuckle as I get up.

Madison scowls. There’s a change in her from just moments ago.

“We should have told them it was us from the very beginning. You’ve made this needlessly complicated. And why? Because you didn’t want anyone to think we were doing anything. It would be such a shame if anyone so much as implied a sexual relationship between you and the whore who ruined your family, wouldn’t it?”

“Whoa. Being a little too harsh, there.”

“Am I, though? It’s what you like to call me, isn’t it?” she replies, increasingly angry. And she is absolutely right.

Trying to stem this flow is a bad idea. Madison has been holding this stuff in for a while. She deserves a release. I should be on the receiving end of a lot of punches and kicks. Yet she stands before me, calm and composed, though her voice does betray her emotions.

“You hurt my family, Madison,” I admit, trying to keep my voice calm. Trying to say the words without diving into what they actually mean because as tired as I am, I do have every right in the world to hate Madison.

“Did you even think to ask how I ended up in your father’s bed? All the accusations, all the insults, but that one simple question was just too much for you?”

“How did you and my father end up together, Madison?”

She shakes her head. “It’s too late for explanations now, Rhue.”

Madison dry-swallows and grabs her jacket, briefly checking her phone. The battery is obviously dead. Mine has also been off since earlier this morning.

“We need to go. I’m getting hungry, and we’ve got a long walk through the woods ahead of us.”

She doesn’t wait for me before heading out, and I am compelled to follow. Madison walks through the woods, and I tag along, gradually realizing that there is so much about her and about that day that I don’t know. I spin her words around in my head. The more I think, the more questions I’m presented with. Like how long had she been seeing my father? Was that their first time together? Second? Tenth? Too many to count? Did she do it for money? Was she in love with him?

I shake my head. This is not the direction I wanted to go in. And asking questions in my head that I can’t answer will only lead me back to the road of hatred where Madison is concerned.

So I drop it.

I survived hazing weekend, coming out with nothing more than a few bruises and a slight headache. That’ll have to be enough for now. One accomplishment at a time, even if those accomplishments don’t mean shit.

Chapter 24

Rhue

“I call bullshit,” my sister says as we come up Reynolds Street, casually making our way toward the Susan B. Anthony Museum.

I’ve decided to spend the weekend in Rochester and help Laura out with some of the charity work she took over after Mom died. The Echeverias are on the museum’s board, and there’s a Christmas dinner and auction scheduled to take place there. Laura is in charge with procuring certain rare pieces to be auctioned off for charity.

But right now, she’s just giving me the stink-eye.

“I’m being honest,” I insist. We’ve been doing this for twenty minutes, and I don’t know what else to do to convince her that I am, in fact, telling her the truth. “I really want to mend things with Madison.”

“Then you shouldn’t have told me about everything you did to her from the moment you met again at Cornell,” Laura replies dryly, one hand on the steering knob of her electric wheelchair. The whole thing looks like something Professor X would be comfortable in, and she actually loves it because of the autonomy it provides without wrecking her arm muscles. “Eventhough you’re my brother, and even though I love you, I would like nothing more than to beat the living daylights out of you.”

Laura’s “manny,” as we call him, is just a few yards behind, following politely and quietly. While in Rochester, he isn’t allowed to ever leave my sister’s side. I don’t mind. He irks me, but I can deal. It’s not his fault, anyway. It’s Dad’s.

“I deserve a good beating, sure, but if I need one, it’s not you I’m gonna ask for it,” I reply, trying to keep my serious face on. “You’re my conscience, Sis. I need your help.”

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