Page 11 of My Heart to Keep
I briefly closed my eyes. If I ignored him, he would tear into me, and the last thing I wanted to do was make my girlfriend’s dad madder than he already was. Not only that, I respected my elders.
I pivoted on my heel, coming face-to-face with a Carter lookalike.
Mr. Thompson’s signature scowl was ever present. That glower had terrified me many times when I’d first met him. “Have you been drinking? Is that why my daughter is drunk?”
I swallowed my own anger, which was primed to lash out.Why does everyone think I forced Quinn to drink?Then again, like father, like son.
“No, sir,” I said in a polite tone, even though it was difficult not to shout at him.
He glared, studying me.
“Sir, we haven’t been drinking,” Ethan said at my side.
Quinn cried nearby. “I hate you,” she said to Carter, or maybe she was talking to her mom.
The wrinkles around Mr. Thompson’s eyes relaxed. “Go home.”
Ethan and I didn’t waste any time in getting the hell out of there.
Quinn was in a world of shit, and I doubted I would see her any time soon.
“Maiken,” Mr. Thompson said. “You’re not allowed to see my daughter until further notice.”
Well, there went my goal of spending time with my girl, which probably wouldn’t matter anyway, at least not for the next four weeks. I was off to basketball camp for most of the summer. Maybe when I got back, this night would be a distant memory, and Quinn and I could pick up where we’d left off.
Yet somehow, I didn’t think things between us would ever be normal again.
Itrudged up to the house, stomping my feet as I passed Momma. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d acted like I was five years old when I didn’t get my way.
“Quinn, get cleaned up. Your father and I will be in to talk to you shortly,” Momma tossed out over her shoulder.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as the blood on my lip began to dry. I should be scared about what punishment Momma and Daddy would dole out, but I didn’t care. I cared about Celia. She wasn’t conscious, and I needed to see her.
I stopped at the sliding glass door. “Mom, I want to see Celia.”
“No!” Her tone was frightening, and it had been years since she snapped at me. “You’ll be lucky if you leave this house for the next six months.”
I dashed away tears, opened the door, and trudged inside as my heart splintered and shattered. It was all my fault that Celia had gotten hurt.
Damn Sloane and Marcus.I blamed Marcus more. I knew I shouldn’t have let him come to the party.
I sobbed as I climbed the stairs.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
My head pounded as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to it, and my stomach swirled like an out-of-control tornado.
I rushed into the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet. After emptying my stomach again, I grabbed some toilet paper and wiped my mouth. Then I went over to the mirror and gasped. My upper lip was swollen. My hair stuck out in every direction. My skin was as white as snow, and my eyes were bloodshot. Plus, my mouth was dry and parched.
I splashed water on my face, hoping it would clear my senses or at least get the color to return. After drying off, I fumbled for my phone in the back pocket of my shorts. Then I called Liam.
The phone rang until his voice mail picked up. “Liam, please call me. I need to know that Celia’s okay.”
I sighed and then broke down in more tears. Maybe Maiken was on his way to the hospital. I called him, but his voice mail answered too.
“Hey, can you call me?”
I slumped against the sink when my phone pinged.
