Page 51 of Unforgivable

“Nice to hear from you, Callum,” Aunt Blair sneered.

Anger spread through every cell of my body, fraying what was left of my patience. “Goddamn it, don't you have your own phone? Why the fuck are you answering Uncle Jack's? Where is he?” I growled, clenching my cell in my hand so hard I worried it might break.

“He's out at the moment. You sound agitated, Callum. Having a bad day?” she said, fake concern dripping from her venomous voice.

“That's none of your damn business. When will he be back?” I gritted out.

“Watch your tone with me. Also I think it is my business if you're calling about my money.”

My heartbeat faltered and my blood boiled. “What the fuck do you meanyourmoney? Are you the reason my payment hasn't come in this month?”

“I figured you didn't need it this month seeing as how you'll be out of school soon anyway.”

Her words made me feel dizzy, fury racing through my veins. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I'm not getting into this over the phone. I have better things to do with my time. If you want to know how badly you screwed up this time, you can come by and find out for yourself. It is much easier to explain in person,” Aunt Blair relayed, sounding bored as if my world hadn't been shaken to its core by her cryptic comment.

“There's no way I'm setting foot in that hellhole with you again. Tell me what the fuck you meant by I'll be out of school soon!” I snapped, my patience a thing of the past.

“No. Come over or don't. I couldn't care less either way.” I heard the click on the other end as she hung up on me. A frustrated scream ripped from my throat, a few passing bystanders throwing me disturbed glances. I couldn't blame them. I was the lunatic yelling on the sidewalk, probably looking as crazed and unhinged as I felt on the inside.

Every bone in my body was like cement, weighing me down and preventing me from going to the one place I wanted to avoid for the rest of my life. That house held nothing but bitter, agonizing memories that I had worked hard to escape. If this morning was any indicator, I was doing a piss poor job of that. I realized that nothing good was going to come from it, but I had no fucking choice.

I pulled up my Uber app and ordered a car.

Back into Medusa’s lair I go.

The Uber driverturned onto my aunt and uncle's street, the familiar cookie-cutter houses lining the path to my destination. On the outside, it seemed like any other suburb with beautiful homes and perfectly landscaped lawns and children running down the street playing.

Their house was one of the bigger ones in the neighborhood, the American Craftsman style giving it that magazine perfection that Aunt Blair loved so much. It looked idyllic and welcoming, but appearances could be deceiving. On the inside, it was rotting fruit, pestilent and foul. No one knew what really transpired behind those doors, what secrets it hid.

The same could be said of Aunt Blair. No one bothered to look behind the carefully crafted facade she clung to. She was sweet andpure whereas I was the cancer, spreading through her life like a malignant disease. I had long given up hope that the world would ever see things clearly. That wasn't what was important right then anyway.

The car dropped me off and I stared up at the flawless exterior, my limbs uncooperative as I tried to make my way up to the front door. It was like moving through molasses. Every step felt like it took a mountain of effort. It was nonsensical that a twenty-one year old man would be this scared of a woman half his size, but it didn't change the fact that I was terrified.

When she was around, it was like I was that scared young boy who couldn't fight off her blows and hateful words, who couldn't do anything right and would spend hours locked in that godforsaken closet. Blair was smart. She knew leaving marks would get her caught, so she exploited the few fears I had to inflict the most pain. It didn't matter how good I tried to be, she would always resort to locking me in that makeshift prison, so eventually I stopped trying. I did whatever I could to piss her off because it was the only time I felt like I had any control.

Of course, it never worked. Not until I was old enough that she couldn't forcibly shove me in and lock the door behind me, but by then four years of it had taken its toll. The scars were there, buried under layers of rage and self-loathing that had built up over time. Her words cut just as deep though, the damage exponentially worse each time they were hurled at me.

You're nothing but a mistake. A stain on this family…

No one else wanted you, so we got stuck with you…

You aren't capable of shit, you can't do anything right…

What did we do to end up with a fuck-up like you? Even your own mother couldn't raise you right…

Your mother was the only one who could ever love you. No one else will…

I shook my head aggressively, attempting to clear out the criticism and degradation echoing in my head on repeat. I couldn't let her get to me right now. I needed to remind myself that I wasn't that helpless boy anymore.

I used my key to let myself in, not giving her the decency of politeness. “Blair! Where are you?” I barked out from the foyer, waiting for Medusa herself to sneak out of the shadows.

“Excuse you! Who do you think you are barging into my house like that?” she fussed, waltzing down the stairs to my right, looking every bitthe typical WASP-y wife, well-bred and privileged. Whereas my mom never cared for their upbringing and was more down-to-earth, Blair leaned into and relished in it. The features that were so similar to my mom's were a knife to the gut. Seeing pieces of someone I loved the most on the face of someone I loathed was a hell of its own.

I ignored her outburst, answering with one of my own. “Tell me where my money is. How the fuck did you get your hands on it in the first place? And what did you mean about my school?”

Aunt Blair's face morphed into a smug smile, her thin arms crossing and giving her that air of superiority she enjoyed flaunting. “I told you before that money ismine, and now I know it for sure. The money you've been so generously given has been coming from one of Jack's accounts, meaning it's as good as mine.”

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