Page 81 of Rival
Barking out a laugh, he whips his arms out to the side, my flinch going unnoticed by him as he yells again. “You’re fuckingfatheris the one who killed my sister! Remember? I very specifically remember telling you!”
“You didn’t tell me his name.” It’s barely a whisper, but he hears me, nonetheless.
“Bullshit!” he spits out. Then, jabbing a finger toward my stomach, he seethes, “I don’t want any fucking part of that kid, especially if it’s got Hughes’ blood in its veins. When you manage to push it out, I’ll submit to a test and if it turns out to be mine, all you’ll get is money. Nothing more.”
Every word is a crushing blow, more painful than a fist or kick, but I stay controlled. My eyes fly to the door when I hear a soft knock, then Jennice’s voice ring out. “Jaxon? Everythin’ okay in there?”
“NOTHING IS FUCKING OKAY!”he shouts, jerking the door open, revealing a wide-eyed and fearful sixteen-year-old. Without looking at me as if he can’t bear the idea of it, he hisses his order I know not to disregard. “Get the fuck out.”
Without waiting, I sprint for the door and only glance back when I hear the destruction of items being shattered against walls and Jennice staring after me with her mouth hanging open.
I push my way outside in a flurry of limbs and run as if my life depends on it. I let the tears fall faster and faster the further I get from the man I thought I was going to be with. The man Itrustedto always be there, and me for him.
My father is the one responsible for his sister’s death?
I don’t want to believe it, but I find myself unsurprised.How did this even happen?
Confusion is warring within me. Memories spent with Jaxon flicker through as I sprint, chest heaving from the exertion, but nothing comes to mind where I mentioned who I was.Was this all my fault?
By the time I make it down the drive of the home I grew up in, sweat is pouring from my face and my clothing is saturated. Eyeing the house, then the rusted-out van parked near the door, I find myself unable to take another step toward it.
I can’t go in there like this. He’ll know…
My eyes fly to the tree line, and without another thought, I take off toward the barn where my babies are waiting. Mason isn’t due back until tomorrow, so I can hide away in there without anyone knowing.
Thankfully, there’s no one outside as soon as I break through as I stumble into their yard. The moment I’m shut inside the barn, I fall to my knees and let the adrenaline and fear overtake me.
Three tiny bodies climb over my numb but shaking limbs, their purrs loud, but not loud enough to drown out my sobs.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Edith
Cracking one of my swollen eyes open, I groan, then cough after inhaling a mouthful of dirt and kitten fur.
It takes me a moment to register what’s going on, but the moment clarity hits, I jerk upright and grab my phone from my pocket.
Oh God, no!
No matter how awful my altercation was with Jaxon yesterday, not going home is a million times worse! I must have exhausted myself and passed out for hours.
Panic is real right now, so I hang my head between my knees to center myself. My mind spins as I attempt to come up withsomeexcuse to explain my absence. I can probably count on the fact he more than likely drank himself into a coma, but dinner.Dinner!
Scrambling to my feet, I quickly apologize to the now meowing kittens as I smack the dirt from my clothes, but it’s no use. After laying in the dirt with sweaty clothes, it’s ingrained in the fibers at this point.
With gentle hands, I shoo the kittens away from the door and slip into the early morning light. The sun has barely broken intothe sky, and I’m brought up short when I find myself face to face with Mason.
My heart gallops when I realize this conversation is going to happen a lot sooner than I’m prepared for.
“Look what the cat dragged in.” His tone is teasing as he eyes me up and down. Then, pressing a fast, needy kiss to my lips, he murmurs, “Good mornin’, girl. You’re here awfully early.”
I can hardly react before he’s pulling away, taking my hand, and dragging me back toward the barn. Digging my heels in, I know what he’s thinking, and I justcan’t. Not right now. Not after yesterday. Not after everything I’ve embroiled myself in.
Mason needs to know everything.
“Mas—” I yank my hand harder to stop him. “Mason! I need to talk to you.”
Dropping my hand, he turns toward me with a raised brow. He’s in a special sort of mood today because his normally down-turned lips are tilted up in a playful smile. “You don’t wanna talkafterwe say a proper hello?” Holding up a couple of fingers, he waggles them at me. “Two weeks, girl. Twolongweeks of dreamin’ about what’s between those legs of yours.”
