Page 144 of Trapped With You

“Of course I did.” He smirked proudly. “I keep all mychildren’s accomplishments.”

My children. He never failed to remind us—Olivia and me—that we were his in every way that mattered. My throat tightened before I whispered, “I know I don’t always say it, but you mean a lot to me, Uncle Vance. I want you to know that.”

I loved him and Aunt Julia like my own parents. They would never replace my mom and dad, but in a way, theywerelike my mom and dad.

The hard-layer that usually lacquered his stony features gentled and he whispered back, “I know, Cade. And I want you to know that me and Julia will always be there for you. No matter what. Understood?”

I nodded.

He placed the blade on the desk and perched forward on his elbows, his fingers forming a makeshift bench beneath his chin. “If this is about Initiation Night, Julia and I aren’t mad. Was it reckless? Yes. But you’re young and mistakes happen. I do not hold it against you. But swear to me that you’ll be more vigilant moving forward.”

“I will.” Uncle Vance knew I was always careful. Yesterday was my first slip-up. “But I’m not here to talk about Initiation Night—”

“Wait.” He raised his hand and appeared horrified for a second. “If this is regarding your romantic troubles, I will advise you to see Julia instead. She’ll have a better game plan on wooing your ex-girlfriend.”

My jaw slackened.Did the entirety of the household know I was pinning after Ella?

“Yes, you’re quite obvious,” he said dryly. “We all know about your late nights where you drive around the city, searching for—sorry, I meant stalking—Ella. You reek of obsession, son.”

“I-I’m not stalking her,” I stammered, a bit flustered.

Uncle Vance deadpanned, “Please, I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Okay, so maybe there were some times where I followed her closely, making sure she got home after a night out with her friends.

“You can’t judge me.” I threw him a pointed look as I reached for the tray on his desk containing a decanter and crystal tumblers. I hadn’t drunk a drop of alcohol in over three months. But I felt safe enough in Uncle Vance’s presence. I poured myself two fingers of whiskey and let go of one more demon. “Aunt Julia said you were unbearable before you both got married. Obsessed, possessive, and jealous.”

In fact, he still was the same where Aunt Julia was concerned. It was a trait the Remington men owned. Alongside loving their significant others until the end of time.

“That is true. I do love my wife very much. Actually, I killed the man she was supposed to marry so I could have her.”

I choked on my sip of whiskey with the casualness of his statement. “I—You know what? I won’t even ask you to elaborate.”

“Good, because I won’t,” he tsked. “Now the longer you keep me here, the less time I have with my wife. So tell me what business you’d like to discuss?”

I drained my whiskey like a shot. Then my eyes roamed to the fireplace again. Over the mantle, there was another picture frame housing a photo of Uncle Vance and my mom. Vera Remington looked happy, healthy, and vibrant. The smile and gown she wore was a reflection of her upper-class upbringing. She’d been the depiction of a real-life Canadian princess.

Seeing her smiling face, I heard Mom’s timeless voice from my memories. The same encouraging lilt when she taught me to be brave, to speak my mind, to do right by me and others. She was always there like a shadow, supporting me even when I didn’t believe in myself.“You can do anything you want if you just put your heart and mind to it, lovebug”she’d say.

Finally finding the courage I needed, I addressed my uncle, “I know these last few months I’ve been…different. Everyone noticed it. You, Aunt Julia, and Josh all tried to ask me on multiple occasions if I was okay. I said yes, but I was lying.”

“I assumed it had to do with your breakup. We didn’t want to push you too hard. I figured you’d talk to us when you were ready.”

“You’re not wrong. The breakup was a part of it, but losing Ella isn’t the only thing that changed me.”

His eyes narrowed, tension coiling deep in his muscles. “Go on.”

I swallowed thickly. “The night of Josh’s birthday party, when you and Aunt Julia were away for the weekend, I…I was drugged and physically assaulted by four guys.”

The climate in the room turned stormy, borderline suffocating with the bitterness of my truth. The flames in the fireplace crackled loudly, the blade sitting on the desk fell to the floor, and Uncle Vance’s breathing turned uneven.

“What did you say?” he asked low, clipped.

“You heard me right.”

The last time I saw Uncle Vance’s expression this dark and volatile was when he came to see me at the hospital, after Julius’s attack. It was my first encounter with such stark anger—and one that wasn’t directed at me butforme.

“Tell me everything,” he bit out with a growl. “Every. Fucking. Thing. Down to the last detail.”