Page 419 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

I slam my door closed and then kick it when I remember the key is gone, wincing at the stab of pain that shoots through my foot before I throw myself on the bed.

Chapter 34

Jude

I smile when I walk into the dining room and see it’s just me, Rosie, and Dad.

I won. Harper lost. I bet my stepsister’s off sulking in her room right now, and Diana must have taken decided to lay low too.

Dad’s on his phone but glances up at me over the top of his glasses as I grab a slice of pizza from the box. 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 fat. Unless they got a prenup that said something about her getting out of the marriage if he picks up too many pounds.

Nope. If anything, it would be the other way around.

“Good day?” he asks as he ends the call.

I shrug. There’s a soda on a coaster near the pizza box. I crack it open and chug at it like I’m trying to win a bet. “S’pose so.”

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

Well, shit, Dad’s upset at discovering 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.

I swallow down another bite. “Didn’t expect that kind of shit from Harper, 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 anapology. Then I need him to throw the Sloanes out of this house so my life, my mind, myworldcan reset back to normal.

“Are you really just going to ground her though? I mean, sheliterallyset her locker on fire.” I sip at my soda. “If you ask me, she’s better off in a boarding school. One of those places for troubled teens. The further, the better.”

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 tap my temple “—issues.”

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

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

“But 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?—”

“You were with her the entire time, weren’t you? How else would you know she did it?” Dad cocks his head before resting his chin on his steepled fingertips. “Makes me wonder about you son. Why didn’t you stop her?”

God damn it. I drop my gaze and take a sip from my soda to try and disguise the fact that my brain’s scrambling for an answer here.

Another sip, a grimace. “I mean, I tried.” I let out a laugh that doesn’t have nearly enough credibility, and hurriedly cut it off. “But that bitch is crazy.”

“You disappoint me, Jude.”

It shouldn’t, but that statement closes my chest up tighter than Tutankhamun’s tomb. My can crumples a little before I can relax my hand.

“She’s your sister, not your enemy.”

I almost laugh but manage to control myself. He doesn’t know about our war.

“The fact that you didn’t stop her makes you just as culpable. You might as well have held the match.” He gives me a sympathetic smile, and that’s when I realize he’s goading me. He wants me to admit that I wasn’t there, that I don’t know if she’s responsible. Saving my own ass along with hers. But then she’d have free rein of this house again. She wouldn’t have to own up to her shit, she wouldn’t have to change. She could just keep coasting along, day drinking and slutting it up with the football team, and no one would even care.

So I don’t say anything. I drink the rest of my soda in silence and force down another slice of pizza.

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