Page 31 of The Pucking Grump

I waver, knowing I would rather die than tell her that Kevin thinks I have a crush on her.

She seems to take my hesitation as sensitivity for her pain. “It’s alright. I can bear it.” She raises herself to her feet. “I knew hiding out here would have its consequences. Whatever else my dad is doing, I need to know.”

“We should have been scouring the news, rather than looking away.” It’s as good of an apology as she’s going to get. “If you’d known sooner . . .”

Faye waves a hand, dismissing my words. “No, I wanted to stay here. It’s been the best thing ever, being able to exist without worrying about displeasing anyone. Except you.”

My upper lip twitches in an almost smile. “What are you going to do, then?”

Faye looks at the phone for a second before she looks up at me. “I don’t agree with what Kevin said. The fact that my father’s lies caused social media to side with me doesn’t mean I should let the lie slide.”

A lot of thoughts are scrambling around in my head. But I wait for her to make the decision by herself.

She looks toward the phone, her lower lip trembling. And then she turns back to me.

“I’ve got to do something to stop him.”

“What?” I hate the fact that I let that question slip from my lips almost as much as I hate that I actually want to know the answer.

She takes a deep breath. And then another. “I can’t do anything from here, cut off from the world.” There’s a tiny, careful pause, like she’s afraid to hurt me. “It means I’ve got to leave.”

Bile burns in my chest, directed toward her audacity in assuming that her departure would bother me. But then, along with the resentment comes a deeper revelation, one I have to face for myself.

Back in the kitchen, I wasn’t angry at Kevin.

But at myself.

A part of me acknowledged he was right. I actually recoiled when he spoke about people being hungry for Faye. I hated that sentence with venom.

After spending just one hour entangled with her, the thought that there are millions of people out there who would kill to bask in her attention rubs me the wrong way.

I do resent Faye for assuming I would be hurt if she left.

But I resent myself even more, because the thought of her leaving has suddenly become unbearable.

For a reason I cannot put my finger on, I want her to stay.

11

DADDY DEAREST

The next morning, I sneak out of bed just as the sun rays are beginning to poke through the windows. I can hear Blake’s breathing, deep and peaceful, reassuring me that he’s not going to wake up soon.

It should give me enough time.

I tiptoe across the floor of the bedroom and slip past the half-open door. Emerging into the living area, I head straight for the phone. I’m sure Blake won’t mind my using it, but I would much rather have this conversation in private.

I don’t even have to think before dialing. It’s the first and only phone number, apart from mine, that I have committed to memory. It’s just six in the morning, and there’s every likelihood I’ll be stuck with leaving a message. Still, I’m willing to bet the call is going to be answered.

He answers on the first ring.

“Hello?” His voice is groggy, like he woke up the moment the phone rang.

“It’s me.”

He’s silent. Tension sparkles between us.

I hear rustling on the other end of the line that probably means he’s getting out of bed and heading away from my stepmother, likely downstairs to his den, where he can speak freely. The mansion my dad lives in is roomy enough for him to not be overheard.

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