Page 7 of Myla: The Hawthornes

Dad looked at me from head to toe and lifted his eyebrows.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I spat, dropping the sleeping bag.

More than one of my brothers slapped their hands over their eyes.

“I’m fully dressed, you morons!” I yelled.

There were so many people watching our little conversation, I figured I might as well give them a show. It wasn’t as if I was going to wake everyone, my dad and brothers had already done that.

“She was sloppy drunk,” Cian said, ignoring me as I spun in a slow circle to show everyone that I was dressed. “Didn’t knowwhere her tent was and sure as fuck wasn’t going to find it herself.”

“I was not sloppy drunk,” I argued.

“Figured she was safer crashin’ in my tent than lettin’ her wander.”

“I’m not a fucking child,” I hissed, glaring at Cian.

“You got so fuckin’ hammered, you couldn’t find your tent?” my dad asked in disgust, looking back at me.

“It was dark.” I threw up my hands. “Jesus!”

“You know better,” he replied quietly, disappointment and anger clouding his expression. “You’re at this club, especially now and especially when we’ve got visitors, you keep your shit.”

“Oh, like everyone else was?” I asked sarcastically.

“Your brothers,” he replied, pointing at them, “were awake in seconds when we thought somethin’ happened to you.”

“Good for them.”

“Myla,” Cian murmured, his hand landing lightly on the base of my spine.

“Oh, fuck off,” I spat at him, taking a step away. “I wasn’t that fucking drunk, and you know it.”

He just looked at me.

“This is such bullshit,” I announced, stunned. “I was having a good time,everyonewas having a good time, and because some asshole follows me outside and Cian decides to play white knight, suddenlyI’vedone something wrong? Fuck that.” I threw my arms out toward the surrounding tents. “I wasn’t even that drunk! Micky set up my tent before everyone got here, so I couldn’t figure out where it was in the dark.”

“Frankie didn’t have a problem findin’ it,” Dad replied flatly.

“Frankie also went back to the tent last nightbeforeit got dark to change her shoes,” I countered. “Sheknew where it was in this mess.”

“You were walkin’ around, drunk, by yourself—”

“No,” I replied, jerking my chin up. I could see my mom coming out the back door of the clubhouse. “The six of you can stand around in your little circle jerk, bitching about how I did something wrong. I’m done listening to it.”

“Don’t take one fuckin’ step,” my dad warned, more pissed than I’d ever seen him.

“Maybe you should be thinking about why I wasn’t safe on club grounds,Dad,” I ground out. “Or at least why you didn’t letmeknow that I wasn’t.”

I ignored him as I pushed past my brothers and strode toward my mother. She was hurrying across the grass, a long, flowy robe wrapped around her body, and with every step she took, it opened all the way up her thigh. She didn’t even seem to notice.

“They’re idiots,” I called out angrily.

“Jesus, Myla,” she said, wrapping her arms around me as I reached her. “I saw some of that. You’re lucky that you’re the only person on the planet that can talk shit to your dad. He would’ve laid your brothers out.”

“So can you,” I mumbled against her shoulder. “I’m never talking to him again.”

“Who? Your dad?”

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