Page 11 of Dare To Break

My fingers curl, nails digging into my palms, as I fight against the temptation. I am not my father. I will not be distracted by pretty eyes and an innocent smile. She has a rotten core disguised by attractive wrapping, just like the woman who has my dad wrapped in her clutches.

I have control of myself by the time she comes out. Her eyes avoid me, and she walks straight past without even acknowledging my presence. I stalk along behind her, and we’re back at the table just as the appetizers are being placed down. I didn’t order one, so I grab a bread roll and pick at it. Arabella is quiet beside me, but I can feel the weight of her gaze every time she looks in my direction. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up with every glance. I ignore her, push my earbuds firmly into place and start my music.

‘Head Like A Hole’ by Nine Inch Nails fills my ears. I lean back on my chair and close my eyes, sketching an image of how she looked in the bathroom in my mind. The fear in her eyes, the way her lips were parted, a slight sheen coating them after she’d licked them. The white-knuckled grip she had on the countertop. The way she trembled at my threat.

Going back to school just got a whole lot more interesting.

The appetizers are followed by the main course, and I find myself watching Arabella as she tries to figure out what is the right set of silverware to use. I make a show of picking up a fork and knife, just to see if she’s paying attention, and her sigh of relief lifts her breasts beneath the shirt.

I wonder what kind of underwear she wears. Is it as no-nonsense and unflattering as the clothes? Cotton, plain, full fitting? Or is she hiding lacy, barely-there panties beneath the thick fabric of her jeans?

I frown. Why the fuck do I care what she’s wearing? All I’m interested in is getting her and her mother out of my life as quickly as possible.

Dessert follows the main course, and with it comes a second bottle of red wine. My new stepmother is loud, drawing the attention of the surrounding tables as she giggles and pats my dad’s arm. Not even the music in my ears can drown her out.

I want to leave. There are too many people stopping by our table to speak to my dad and introduce themselves to the platinum Barbie twins. One or two try to speak to me. I look right through them until they falter to a stop and turn to the girl beside me. She’s far more open to being questioned, and I drop a hand to my cell to turn down the volume on my music so I can hear what she’s saying.

Her voice is hesitant, almost shy, as she explains how everything moved so fast and she needs time to adjust. I’m unable to stop a derisive snort and all eyes land on me.

“I need some air.” I push to my feet and walk out.

Too many people, too many questions, too much noise. Ironic really, considering the music I have playing almost constantly in my ears. But that’s a different kind of noise. It settles my mind and makes dealing with the outside world a little easier.

I reach the exit and step outside. There’s a bench across the road, so I walk over to it and sit down, stretching my legs out in front of me, and pull my cell out of my pocket.

Me: Can you find out who my new stepsister is rooming with at CBA?

Kellan: I’ll ask around tomorrow. Someone will know.

Me: Find out her timetable as well.

Kellan: What are you thinking?

Me: That she shouldn’t get too comfortable.

Chapter 7

Arabella

My new spacious, white-walled bedroom is everything a girl could ever want, with a four-post bed, huge TV on the wall, and a walk-in closet. The few meager boxes that I haven’t bothered to open barely take up any space in the center of the room. I have no intention of unpacking them. At least not the things I don’t need. Before I leave for school, I’ll pile them up in the back of the closet. There’s no point getting comfortable when Elena has made sure I’m not going to stay. I feel more like a visitor than someone who is supposed to live here. Someone peering into Eli and Elliot’s home while my mother makes herself comfortable in it.

I turn away from the corkboard I’m in the middle of decorating at a soft knock at my door to find Elena hovering in the doorway.

Her face lights up with a bright smile. “How are you settling in?”

“Fine.” Swiveling my chair back to the desk, I place the postcard of Milan on the flat surface.

“What are you up to?”

“Making an inspirational board of my future.”

And staying the hell out of Eli’s way. After what happened in the restaurant, I’ve been avoiding him as much as possible.

“You want to travel?” Her voice moves closer.

I position the photo of the Eiffel tower on the cork and pin it in place. “I want to work in Italy someday, or Paris. Maybe New York to start with.”

“Oh, Arabella. You only live once. Get your head out of the clouds.”

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