Page 52 of Clap Back (Carter Brothers)

I’d stuffed it in between the couch cushions so he didn’t see it and question me about it.

I wasn’t sure why I’d taken it. I’d just noticed it and went with it, only to regret it later after I decided that he’d probably gotten it for someone specific. Someone who was definitely not me.

But then I’d forgotten about it until now.

Bending over, I picked up the plastic container and popped the top off. Reaching inside, I plucked the ring out of the brittle plastic cup and slid it on my pinky finger—the only finger it’d fit.

I smiled at the sparkly fit.

But immediately I started to feel bad, because there was no way this wasn’t for a kid, and I’d straight up stolen it.

Before I could feel too bad, though, my phone rang again, reminding me that my stepmother was waiting for me.

I sighed, slipped my feet into my slippers, and headed outside.

Luckily, she’d just pulled up to the curb as I made my way down the length of my walk.

I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for her to get out.

She did, her eyes narrowed, and immediately started in. “What’s this I hear about you dating some cop?”

The way she said ‘cop’ made it sound like she was describing a slug.

“I’m not sure why it matters,” I said as I started to nervously twist the ring on my pinky finger.

My stepmother sure knew how to make my cortisol levels rise.

From the moment she’d come into my life at the age of seven, she’d taken the ‘mother’ thing over the top. Not only did I have a dad who would stalk my every move, my stepmother took over when my dad couldn’t.

She hated when she was the last to know things, too.

Such as finding out that I had a thing for a cop at the place my father watched over with the same diligence he watched over his child.

“You know how cops are, Maven,” she chided me, using the same tone of voice she’d used when I was a kid and did something she didn’t approve of.

“I know how you think cops are,” I agreed. “But not all of them are womanizers and players. Some of them, like the one who is starting to mean something to me, are really great. I don’t see Auden being anything but crazy devoted to the woman he decides to set his sights on.”

My stepmother narrowed her eyes. “You won’t date him.”

I frowned at her. “I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal. And why would it matter to you and Dad who I date in the first place? I can’t remember a single time y’all ever said anything to Scott about who he dates.”

She threw up her hands. “Boys and girls aren’t the same, and I’ve told you since you were a teenager that what’s acceptable for a boy isn’t always acceptable for a girl.”

Again, one of the stupid rules from my childhood that had never made sense.

Heck, even Dorsey had been able to do more things than I could. I’d been seventeen when I’d finally grown a pair and secretly got an Instagram and Facebook account.

I’d had to use my middle name and a fake last name to keep out of the sights of my father—who very much checked on a weekly basis to make sure that I wasn’t doing anything I wasn’t supposed to—i.e. getting a social media account.

I had to sign in on my friends’ phones, and eventually, I procured a secret phone and paid for my own plan to get around my father checking to make sure I wasn’t being a ‘bad’ kid.

“I realize that it’s a shock that I’m actually growing up and doing something outside of my wheelhouse,” I started. “But to be honest, what I do and don’t do stopped being your and Dad’s business the moment I turned eighteen and moved out of the house.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re being ridiculous.”

The rain started on the tail end of her words.

She pointed at her ancient Suburban and said, “Get in.”

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