Page 105 of Michael: The Hawthornes

My face burned like hellfire as I looked back at Emilia. She shrugged, her own cheeks beet red.

“Why don’t you go get that gate, baby?” she asked desperately, her eyes widening.

I pushed through the throng until I reached her, leaning down to give her a kiss.

“We’re gonna talk about this later,” I warned.

“I got a little chatty when you left me at the club,” she confessed.

“Great.”

“Why don’t you leave Rhett here?” she said, obviously trying to change the subject. “He’ll be fine with all these babysitters. Escape while you can.”

I huffed. “I love you, but you’re a pain in the ass.”

“Back atcha,” she murmured, her lips curving into a smile.

“Tell Charlie you quit.”

“Zip it,” she hissed.

“You tell her, or I will.”

I left the house with my guts in a knot that I tried to ignore. Emilia was fine, and I knew that, but I still hated to leave her. I wasn’t sure that I’d gotten through to her that morning, and I honestly wasn’t sure I ever would. Christ, I hated her parents. I didn’t care that they were dead. I wished I could tell them what pieces of shit they were.

How the hell could she get past years of conditioning that she never did enough? How could I convince her that she didn’t have to work her ass off just for the right to exist in her own fucking space?

Chapter 15

Emilia

“Okay, so Iused to think it was cute how you were always changing it,” Heather said to me, running her fingers through the back of my hair. “But it’s feeling less cute now.”

“I know,” I said with a sigh. “It’s bad.”

“Why the heck did you do it?” she asked, coming around to face me. “It doesn’t even look like you were trying to keep it even.”

“I was stressed out,” I mumbled, looking at the floor.

“Stressed out?” Heather asked in surprise. “Hell, when I’m stressed I just jump Tommy.”

“Ew, Mom!” Myla cried from the floor near the fridge. “Gross!”

“It always helps,” Heather continued, ignoring her daughter. “Always.”

“That’s my son, you know,” Callie said dryly from her seat at the table.

“We have five kids, Ma,” Heather returned brightly. “I know you don’t think we’re celibate.”

“I’d rather not hear about it,” Callie pointed out.

“It’s just something I do,” I said, cutting in so I didn’t have to hear anything else about Michael’s parents’ sex life. “I don’t know why.”

“Well, you’ll have to find some other way to cope,” Farrah announced as she rummaged through her bag. “Because if you wanna cut it after I’m finished, it’ll have to be a buzz cut.”

“You’re cutting it that short?” I asked, whipping my head in her direction.

“It’ll be a pixie, hon,” she replied distractedly. “I won’t make it super short, but you’re not gonna have a lot to work with when I’m done. Don’t have a choice. You’ve got some really short pieces in the back.”

---