Page 68 of Scream Little Sister

I strip out of my clothes and change into a pair of basketball shorts and my workout sneakers. The only way to rid myself of the nervous energy while also monitoring Madison is a workout in the home gym.

I leave my bedroom and take the stairs on the deck two at a time. The back door noiselessly slides open, and I squeeze through the small space before I shut it behind me. The den is dead silent as I cross the room and head toward the hallway.

Madison is nowhere in sight. Not even her voice carries through the house.

I glare at Jerry’s closed office door as I pass it. His low, muffled voice is absent for the first time. I stop outside the gym and peer down the hallway, debating if I should find Madison. The thought lasts for all of a second before I brush it aside.

She would get upset if sought her out and got caught by anyone.

Shaking away the uneasy feeling, I enter the gym and pull my phone out of my pocket to check Madison’s Instagram. If she can post, she’s not hurt. My fingers tighten on my phone when I spy the image she uploaded five minutes ago.

She’s okay. Thank fuck for that.

I lock my phone screen, and start my workout routine by stretching, then move on to jogging for a few minutes. I eventually swap to heavy lifting. With no music playing in the background, I can listen for any sounds from Jerry or Madison.

An hour drags by. After working out the tension, I head toward the kitchen to grab some water and food. My steps falter when hushed voices reach my ears just outside the threshold.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Mary says.

Madison’s voice strains as she says, “No you’re not. You can’t just excuse a black eye like it’s nothing.”

My eyebrows furrow as I move closer, keeping out of sight so I’m not caught eavesdropping on their conversation.

Madison’s back faces me as she crowds Mary, who’s trying to console her niece. My teeth grind together at the sight of the deep purple bruise beneath Mary’s left eye.

That motherfucker. Not only is Jerry okay with hitting a child, but he also beats his sister.

“You think this is the first time he’s done this? Because it isn’t. Trust and believe me when I say karma will get him one day,” Mary says.

Madison flails her hands by her sides. “How can you act so nonchalant about this, Minnie? He hit you! We need to go to the police about this.”

Mary draws Madison into a hug, one of her hands cupping the back of Madison’s head. My sister doesn’t fight the embrace. She clings to the older woman as though her life depends on it.

“I don’t need to go to the police. It’s okay.” Mary kisses Madison’s temple. “You think I didn’t get my own punches in? I’m not scared of him, and he knows it.”

Madison makes a disgruntled noise and squeezes Mary tighter.

“One of these days, someone much bigger than him will knock him down a peg or two. Until then, all I can do is ruffle his feathers and remind him our grandfather wouldn’t stand for his bullshit.” Mary smooths the back of Madison’s head, then untangles herself from the hug.

Madison sighs. “Did you really punch Dad?”

“Damn straight I did.” Mary cackles. “He whimpered like a little bitch, too.”

“Who taught you how to fight?”

Mary’s face softens. “Your great-grandfather. He was the best boxer of his time and taught me fighting skills at an early age. He said it’d come in handy to fight off all the boys when Igot older.” She shakes her head with a darkened expression. “He was right.”

Feeling like I’m intruding on their private moment, I head for the back door. Unfortunately, that means I have to pass by the kitchen’s entryway. There’s no escaping being seen, but I can make it look like I haven’t been listening in on their conversation. Both women go quiet as I cross the small path to the door.

I know the very second when Madison looks at me. Like all the other times, tingles spread through the side of my face, and heat waves roll through my body.

I spent years hating and lusting after that woman, wishing she would stop looking at me with those eyes. It always made it harder to resist her, and it’s the same, even now. I love and hate her attention because she’s making it difficult to keep my promise to treat her the same way when all I want to do is punish her for the years of anger toward her.

“You hungry, Ryder?” Mary calls.

I keep my expression blank as I barely turn my head to side-eye the women who turned toward me.

Mary leaves Madison’s side and rounds the kitchen island, where two stacks of pizza boxes stand. I was too engrossed in their conversation and watching Madison to notice the food.