Page 48 of Wicked Sins

Ismile when I walk into the dining room and see it’s just me, Emma and Dad. And fuck, why shouldn’t I be happy?

I won.

Candy lost.

She’s off sulking in her room, and I guess her mother’s picking up on those vibes, because even Diana’s not at the table tonight.

Fuck it, I’m full out grinning like an idiot.

I grab a slice of pizza from the box.

Dad’s busy on his phone. He glances up at me over the top of his glasses. He’s been wearing them a lot more lately—are his eyes getting weaker, or is he just too lazy to put in his contacts? Guess he doesn’t have to look all that sharp anymore—he’s got Diana bagged for the long haul. Now he can go and get all fat and shit, and she’d have to stay married. Unless they got a prenup that said something about her getting out of the marriage if he picks up too many pounds.

Fucking hilarious.

“Good day?” he asks in his usual monotone.

I nod, taking a big bite of pizza. There’s a beer on the coaster where my wine glass normally stands, and I chug at it like I’m trying to win a bet. “Couldn’t be better.”

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” Dad says, but it sounds halfhearted.

Shit. I guess Dad would be a bit upset, having finally discovered that his new golden child isn’t all she’s chalked up to be. I’d cut him some slack…but he’s the one that brought them into our home. He’s responsible for the desecration of this special place.

“Yeah, so, wow. Didn’t expect that kind of shit from Candy, huh, Dad?”

His slice of pizza slaps down onto his plate. “What was that?”

He’s giving me a chance to cop-out, but I won’t take it. I want him to admit to me that he made a mistake. I want an apology from him.

I need him to throw the Fureys out of this house so my life, my mind, my world can reset back to normal. No more psychotic dreams about Candy. No more panic attacks when she’s ten minutes late to my car in the afternoons. No more suppressing the resentment, I feel every time she heads upstairs with my father for the kind of quality time I’ve never, ever gotten from him.

What the fuck makes her so special?

“Is grounding her enough? I mean, sheliterallyset her locker on fire.” I take a bite of pizza, and swallow it down before I add, “If you ask me, I’d think she’s better off in a boarding school or something.” I shrug as I sip at my beer. “Let someone else take care of that.”

He watches me for the longest time. “Boarding school, huh?”

“She’d be out of your hair. Trained therapists and stuff to sort out her, you know—” I flick my fingers toward my head “—issues.”

“Hmm…” Dad looks back at his phone. “I thought you liked her.”

I almost choke, but thank God my beer is still nearby because I cover the tightening of my throat with a fake sip from my can.

Jesus, what a loaded statement.

“But, see, if you liked her, you wouldn’t stand idly by while she destroyed school property, would you?”

My smile slides off my face like butter off a hot knife. “I didn’t—”

“According to the principal, you didn’t say a word. You didn’t try and stop her. You just watched.” Dad cocks his head before resting his chin on his steepled fingertips. “Makes me wonder about you son. I mean, you could have stopped her. So why didn’t you?”

I’m such a fucking idiot. I drop my gaze and take a sip from my beer to try and disguise the fact that my brain’s scrambling for an answer here.

It’s impossible.

Definitely illogical.

But, somehow, I’m getting blamed for this.