Page 3 of Shattered Souls
The longer I sit there, the more unbearable the itch to get away from him becomes. Simply being in his presence sickens me, knowing the truth of everything. I can’t even think aboutmy mother’s journal, or the indifferent facade I’ve donned will fracture. It’s taking every ounce of willpower to sit here civilly and play this game with him.
However, as tempting as it would be to call him out. It wouldn’t do any good to scream and shout and tell him I know exactly who he is. There is already enough to deal with, and getting on my father’s bad side is not somewhere you want to be. Better to appeal to him and figure out what game he’s playing because you can bet your ass I’m not buying thishappy familybullshit he’s spouting.
With a final reminder to be at the restaurant on time on Saturday night, I parted ways with my father.Finally.Turning toward my front door, I notice the curtain in the living room window twitch, and I shake my head, knowing Logan has been spying. Likely, the three of them are anxious to know what’s happening. Not that I can blame them.
However, when I step inside, it isn’t Logan standing there but a starkly pale and timid Riley. Dressed in a pair of Royce’s sweats and a Huskies jersey that swamps her slim frame, her arms are wrapped around her middle as though she’s literally holding herself together. As the door closes behind me, her wide, fear-ridden eyes lift to mine, and I can’t help but feel a pang of concern for her.
My gaze flicks to the hallway behind her, surprised that Logan or Royce aren’t hovering nearby. That they’d leave her alone in her state.
“Where are the others?” I ask in a carefully neutral tone.
Her teeth sink into her lower lip, and her voice is weak, worn out, and exhausted beyond belief when she says, “They wentto shower and get dressed. We…” She glances away, inhaling a shaky breath before hesitantly sliding her gaze back to mine. Terror has her pupils dilated, eliminating any of the captivating green of her irises. “Grayson, w-was that really your dad? Logan wasn’t sure…”
The same extreme tiredness pouring out of her crashes through me, and I stumble forward. My chest collides with hers, and bending, I grasp the back of her thighs and haul her into my arms. She goes without complaint, her toned thighs squeezing my hips as her arms wrap around my neck.
I carry her into the kitchen and set her on the countertop before collapsing into her. My forehead rests on her shoulder, and now that I’m no longer faced with my father, I release a shuddering exhale. I feel like I’m in shock, my limbs shaking after the unexpected confrontation. Of having to facehimfor the first time since finding out what he did to Riley. To my mother.
Since learning the truth about the truly heinous piece of shit who makes up half my DNA.
As if sensing I’m on the brink of losing it, Riley squeezes me tighter. Her legs wrap around my middle, and she buries her face in the crook of my neck as her fingernails dig into my shoulders.
The two of us united in our grief. In our desolation.
Regardless of the shit I’ve put her through, of the unresolved issues between us, in this, we are allied.
She’s the only person on this planet who understands the hatred I feel toward my father. The only other person who knows what it’s like to be pinned and helpless beneath his manipulation.
Neither of us says anything, soaking up the other’s comfort until what sounds like a herd of elephants comes trampling down the stairs.
I slide out of Riley’s comforting embrace as Logan appears in the doorway, stopping as his gaze darts between us. His hairis damp from a shower, and he’s dressed casually in loose-fitted shorts and a t-shirt. One look at our faces, and he knows. “Fuck,” he hisses, his features twisted in a grimace. “I was really hoping I was wrong.”
Royce silently steps into view, dressed in his typical all-black attire. His expression is locked down; however, his piercing blue eyes are solely on Riley. Assessing. I can’t blame him, especially knowing that I’m about to destroy the last of her sanity.
I glance at her from the corner of my eye, hating the dark circles under her eyes and her ashen complexion, which makes the freckles dotting the tops of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose stand out.
“So, your dad is out,” Royce states. My eyes snap to him, finding him watching me. I nod.
“Bought his way out early,” I explain before anyone can ask.
Logan frowns before marching across the kitchen and scooping Riley into his arms. He then moves to sit on a bar stool at the kitchen island, holding her protectively in his lap.
As if he’s now mentally prepared to have this conversation, his hard gaze meets mine over her head, which is tucked beneath his chin. “What did he want?”
Royce moves too, standing on the opposite side of the island where he can see Riley’s face and read her every thought while being close enough in case she needs him.
My gaze connects with Riley’s, unblinking as I rip off the Band-Aid. “Spouting some bullshit about all of us being a family again.”
She physically flinches as though my words slapped her.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Logan snaps, riled up, and I haven’t even gotten to the worst part.
Leaning against the counter behind me, I cross my arms over my chest, keeping my focus on the woman in Logan’s lap.“Apparently, your mom and my dad are still married and are moving in together now that he’s out of prison.”
Riley’s nose scrunches in distaste, and I notice Royce straighten at the news.
“So they wanna play house; what does that have to do with either of you?” Logan asks, confused.
It’s barely perceptible, but Riley stiffens. Just when I thought she couldn’t get any paler, what little color was in her cheeks drains. “He wants to get back what he had before his arrest.”
