Page 50

Awake and mobile, the basic need for hot coffee turned dire. With a wide openmouthed yawn, I stepped out into the hallway, pausing the beeline I was on toward the kitchen when I was outside Bradley's room. The scene was all too familiar, with Daddy ranting about shit not getting done, but it was still a lot to take in considering Bradley’s injured state.

Daddy turned those light brown eyes to me, narrowed in obvious annoyance. “What do you want?”

Instead of responding, I shifted my full attention to Bradley, who shot me a sympathetic look with his one good eye. “On my way to get coffee and heard you,” I said.

“Get me some,” Daddy commanded back with a dismissive wave.

“You have two legs. Get it yourself.”

Eyes a bit wild, he faced me straight on and balled his hands into tight fists. “What in the hell did you say to me, girl?”

Somehow the terror he used to invoke in my soul as a little girl seeped right back in. But instead of cowering, I repeated, “Get it yourself.” Only a slight tremble in my voice gave away my nerves of standing up to this man.

With each step closer, the heels of his boots thumped against the thinly carpeted floor, sounding ominous in the otherwise quiet house. “You always were useless, weren't you. You and that pathetic brother. Sorry excuse for kids after what all I did for you two.”

“Right, because a kick in the ass and constant degrading is exactly what every kid needs.”

“You lie. Always have been a damn liar. You lied to Mr. Graves about your mother, then conned his grandson into getting you pregnant, which turned the entire Graves family against me. I knew it from the beginning. Just like your mother. Nothing but a useless whore.”

With each vicious word, he moved closer until he was in my face. I pressed a trembling hand against his thin chest and shoved him back a step. “Wow, it's a little early for all this, don't you think? Let's wait until after my morning coffee to start with the oh-so-typical rant of who ruined your life and when.” Summoning a bit more courage, I glanced over Daddy’s shoulder to Bradley propped up on the bed. “You need anything?”

At the quick shake of his head, I cast a final dismissive glare at Daddy and compelled my feet to move. Turning my back to him as I walked away was way more difficult than I expected, but I did it. Somehow, someway, the time with Brenton had strengthened the crumbling confidence Daddy was hell-bent to obliterate.

On the front porch swing, knees tucked against my chest and a steaming cup of coffee in hand, my tense shoulders finally relaxed, lowering inch by inch away from their permanent residence by my ears.

The fresh coffee scalded the tip of my tongue at the first hasty sip. Fine. With a longing look, I placed it on the swing beside me and pulled out my phone.

Six missed texts from the night before.

Shit.

Ryder:What the hell is going on? Kyle just got home and said Bradley got his ass kicked and Brenton was THERE, helping you?

Ryder:You told me you were done with him. Beka, please tell me you're done with him.

Ryder:Please tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing right now.

Ryder:I'm disowning you until you respond.

Ryder:Okay, that was a lie. I need to know what's going on and that you're okay.

Ryder:Call me, you hooker!

The last text made a smile pull at the corners of my lips.

Me:I'll do a tell-all, but I need donuts. Lots and lots of donuts.

Ryder:Oh hey. Good to know you're alive. It's not like I was WORRIED or anything.

Ryder:Thanks for returning my texts last night... oh wait. You didn't. Get your own damn donuts.

Ryder:Tell me one thing. Were you with him?

Me:Yes.

Ryder:You're a hot mess. See you in fifteen.