Page 45
Story: What I Should Have Felt
I chuckled to myself. I’d known that they hated them, which was another reason I’d gotten Colette’s drawings tattooed on me. A subtle “fuck you” to them.
“What’s so funny?” she asked as Colette’s mom stepped over the threshold of her broken front door.
“Nothing,” I replied and muttered the truth under my breath in Cajun-French.
Azelie’s brows furrowed as Colette’s dad followed her mom out, carrying two duffel bags. “You said ‘fuck,’ but that was all I understood.”
I whipped my head toward her. “Why, of all the words in French, is ‘fuck’ the one you know? Also, don’t say that word.”
“But you did.”
“Like we already discussed, I have a bad habit that you don’t need to pick up.”
“Fine.” She pursed her lips, but the twinkle in her eye had me smiling to myself.
“You’re a lot like your mom, you know that?”
She grinned as Colette finally made her appearance in the doorway. Without letting Azelie answer, I pointed at the van and walked forward. “Get in while I go help them with their bags.”
“You like her,” Azelie blurted out, and I nearly fell over my toe as I took a step forward.
“What?” I stumbled, catching my balance with an outstretched hand on the hood of the van.
“My mom. You like my mom. Like, like-like her,” Azelie repeated and wiggled her brows. “It’s so obvious now.”
“Uh, I do not.”
“You do.” She grinned and then darted inside the van.
Shit. If Azelie could pick that up, then I wasn’t doing a good job hiding my emotions. With a shake of my head, I shoved everything back into that bottle. Every emotion, including rage. It was time to become the monster of death I’d been trained to be.
My parents and Mawmaw stood outside the front door with their arms crossed as I pulled the van into the driveway. The short drive had not been silent, but I’d also not been included in the whispered argument occurring in the back seat between Colette and her parents. Azelie had simply pushed herself up against the window and stared out as I drove us to my house.
With his arms crossed, my dad stepped off the porch and glared at me.
“See?” Colette’s mom whispered. “They don’t want us here, just like we don’t want to be here.”
Fuck this.
I spun around in my seat and shot a steely glare at two people who had done nothing but turn my life into a living hell from the moment they threatened me. “Here’s how this is going to go,” I snarled and pointed at Colette’s parents. “You two are going to get your asses out of this van, and walk into that house. There’s a guest bedroom that you’ll be staying in, and I won’t hear another lick of a fucking argument. Colette and Azelie will stay in my room, while I stand guard. You don’t have to talk to my parents or Mawmaw. You don’t have to interact with them in any way, shape, or form. I will be your liaison if you’re going to continue with this fucking petty bullshit, because despite all of the shit you give, I’d rathernotsee you fucking dead.”
Colette’s and Azelie’s wide eyes and open jaws were mirror images of Colette’s parents. But I was fed up with this.
“You were attacked in your home, by someone who is after my family, too. So, until this asshole is gone, can you act like fucking normal human beings, and put this rivalry on pause?” I shook my head, the frustration boiling within me along with a smidge of praise for myself. Fifteen years later and I’d finally grown a pair of fucking balls where her parents held not an ounce of control over me.
Colette’s dad slid forward and wagged a finger at me. “How dare you talk—”
“Don’t,” I snapped. His eyes widened. “Or I’ll come clean to her.”
He slunk back in his seat and shared a quick glance with his wife. Silence strangled the van, but the tension shifted as I briefly caught Colette’s gaze. Something wicked burned in her green eyes. Something that surprised me since I’d never shown her this side of me. I’d always tried to be soft with her, allowing her to take the reins because I’d thought that was what she wanted.
But then again, we’d been kids, and I knew my understanding of love was practically non-existent then.
“I’ll tell my parents the same thing,” I added, unable to pull my gaze from Colette’s. The wicked female rage that I’d been on the receiving end of the moment I’d returned, sifted away like flour in a recipe. And for the first time since I’d known her, she seemed gentle. It was beautiful. She’d always been beautiful, but this willing submission filled a hole that had expanded between us.
With a groan, the van doors slid open, and I exited along with the LeBlancs. I shot a warning glare at my dad, and he took a step back on the porch. I’d explain things later to them, but right now, I needed to sort out another security system from Griffin if he’d let me borrow a third one. There was also the matter of a talk with Colette.
That conversation still needed to happen, but not while I smelled of blood and death and sweat that itched upon my skin. After the shower. After Azelie was settled in and asleep. After the world finally stopped spinning out of control.
Table of Contents
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- Page 45 (Reading here)
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