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That’s how I felt when Madalyn told me Mike wasn’t my dad. That’s how I felt knowing Brooks was my father. A repulsive, lying, drunk man who manipulated everyone around him, was my blood.

That’s how I feel now seeing Brooks again. And still, here he stands before me, waiting for my response, loving that he’s pissed me off. Again.

I hate this man. No, Idespisehim.

Brooks blames me for a lot of things because it’s easier than blaming himself. Austin. . . he’s his prize possession. The kid could do no wrong in his eyes.

I’m the bastard child. The firstborn who destroyed his good time. And like the coward he is, he let another man raise me because that was easier. That fit into his plan. He married later, to Austin’s mother. . . and when she died, he came back to Madalyn. I don’t really care how it all happened, but it instigated the divorce between my parents.

I’d like to tell you this never had a lasting effect on me, but I’d probably be lying.

“I have to leave,” I whisper to Aly solemnly, motioning toward the doors. I didn’t want to do this with Brooks, not now, not ever. Most of all, I didn’t want to hurt Aly anymore.

And that’s the only reason I walk away from Brooks. Her and those boys.

If I don’t leave, I know what’s going to happen. I’m going to react.

I let go of Aly, but her hand instinctively reaches for mine. She gives me a steady look, lashes unblinking. “I’ll go anywhere with you.”

I don’t look away. I can’t. I absorb the meaning, but say nothing, my eyes cutting across the room. Hundreds of blank faces waiting for a reaction I’m not going to give them. They know the hot head side of me. They know the fifteen-year-old kid who lays a motherfucker out just for the reaction. But I’m not that kid anymore.

Cash’s face flashes in my mind and then Grady’s, and I remember why I’m walking away.

I won’t give them what they’re looking for. Not this time. I gave him exactly what he was looking for when I left. Me walking away from him when he wants a scene, that’s exactly the response he’s getting.