Page 93 of Wanted

“I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t serious,” she says softly. “He was the only one who knew how to find you.”

Her tone stops me. For the first time in a decade, I feel like I’m actually hearing my mom. Why does she always manage to put me in this situation? The second I’m finally doing what’s best for me, she finds a way to lay on the guilt.

“Even if I could help you, which I can’t, I won’t have anything to do with him.” I jerk my thumb at Dillon.

“You and I get our turn next, Frankie,” Dillon spits.

“You need to come home,” Mom interjects.

“Shut up! She’s not going anywhere with either of you.” Jude glares at them.

“I’ll handle it.” I grimace at admitting that I need to handle my own mother. As I turn to look at Jude, I notice the wide audience we’ve attracted.

“Jude, please.” I elbow his ribs as shame coats my insides, but he doesn’t budge, continuing his staring contest with Dillon.

“It’s time to come home where you belong, Frankie.”

“You have no idea about where I belong.” I hate the shake in my voice. The way it weakens my argument. Having this scene unfold in front of half the town sweeps the feeling of belonging right out from beneath my feet. I can only imagine the gossip that will be spreading around by nightfall.

“Well, it sure as hell isn’t here!” Dillon gestures at our audience. “I mean, look at yourself,” he sneers. “You think these people can’t tell you’re a complete fraud? We aren’t like them.”

I know I shouldn’t believe him, but he’s not wrong. Wasn’t I just thinking the same thing? The Powells might have all been raised in shitty situations like mine, but they all found a way to leave them.

“Speak to her like that again, and I’m going to knock your ass out.”

“Jude!” I push my hand into his chest, forcing him back. He doesn’t budge, not a freaking inch. He tips his chin, looking down his nose at me, and I feel so small beneath his steely glare.

“Hands off, baby. I’m done listening to him insult you.”

“I told you I could handle it,” I bite out.

Jack jogs over, stopping at our side. “Everything okay?” He directs his own glare at my mom and Dillon.

“We’re leaving.” Dillon lunges for my arm. His fingers twist around my cast, and the contact startles me backward. I trip over my own feet and land on the ground on my ass. Pain rockets through my hip and up my side. I watch in horror as Jude powers forward, his hands curled into rock-hard fists, and he surges toward Dillon. Jack moves straight into his twin’s chest, blocking his advance. Dillon stumbles back in fear before righting himself and brushing his hands over his chest with an arrogant grin.

Something inside me breaks at the volatile scene. The flood of emotions forces the tears from my eyes. I wipe them off with the back of my hand as I stand.

“Do you have a hundred dollars?” I ask Jack, my voice flat.

He turns his chin into his shoulder, breaking eye contact with Jude. “I do.”

“Can I please have it?”

With one final shove into his brother’s chest, he digs out his wallet but Jude gets there first. He thrusts a $100 bill into my open palm with uncertainty in his eyes.

“There’s an envelope of money in the kitchen. The cabinet above the fridge. You can take enough to pay yourself back.”

Dillon’s smug grin grows, and my mother eyes the bill in my hand like she knows it’s the ticket to her next fix.

And you know what? I no longer fucking care.

“I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses,” Dillon says.

“You think I’m some piece of property you can show up and piss on, but you don’t own me anymore.” I slap the bill into my mother’s hand. “That’s it. That’s all I have. Take it and go home.”

“I knew I could count on you.”

“Don’t ever come back. I’m done.”

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