Page 214 of The Perfect Wrong

And when I look up and see him crying, I lose it, offering my own tears to the rain.

“Are youkidding?” Evie hisses behind us, slamming the car door as she gets out and stomps over. “Move it! You’re both making this so much harder than it has to be. Hugs and kisses won’t fix anything, Bruce. She needs drugs, doctors,therapy.”

Okay, now I’m pissed.

My head jerks up, beaming raw hatred at her, but it’s nothing compared to the fury in Dad’s eyes.

“Evie?” he whispers.

She looks at him, her eyebrows lifting at the harshness in his tone.

“Kindly shut the fuck up,” he snarls.

Holy crap.

I’m glad he’s still holding me gently or I’d fall right over.

“Oh? Oh, sonowyou want to be Mr. Tough Guy.” She laughs acidly, a grating sound that makes me want to slap her. “Where was he while his whole family was falling apart, Bruce? Look at you! Literally a few steps away from getting her the help she needs, to get her off this sick, little obsession with my idiot son, and here you are. Standing around, blubbering like a baby.”

Dad slowly releases me.

The rain picks up, pouring down on us like something out of a bad movie while Evie stands her ground, her arms crossed.

And she just won’t let up.

“Ten seconds,” she clips. “That’s the only courtesy you get before I march her up there myself. I won’t wait around all day trying to talk sense to this mantrum in the rain.” She reaches up and brushes her hand through her soggy hair, wrinkling her face in disgust.

She’s way too done up today, wearing this gaudy bumblebee-yellow dress with thin black stripes.

It’s almost like she’s celebrating sending me away.

Is that it? She can’t help how thrilled she is to have me gone so there’s nothing else between her and fully grinding my father down?

God. That’s almost worse than thinking it’s just pure petty vengeance for falling in love with her son.

She’s slightly taller than us on her black high heels. They look like they’re ready to walk over our bones, solidifying her triumph.

I can’t believe she’s this blind.

Does she really blame Chris for screwing up this family?

Even when the real saboteur is standing right in front of me, slowly counting down on her fingers, her face falling every second we don’t move.

“Okay, ten. Let’s go!” she yells. “Move, Cordelia, and let mama do the job daddy won’t.”

She starts toward me and I jump back.

“No. You’llneverbe my mother,” I snap, slapping her hand away.

There’s no flipping way I’m taking it.

I’ll drag her through the puddles before I let this rabid wolverine lead me away anywhere.

She’s fast, though, determined, and I’m in tatters.

Before she can grab me, Dad throws his protective arm around my shoulder and spins me around.

When the world stops whirling, I notice we’re speed walking back to the car. He pops the passenger door and shoves me inside without a word.

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