Page 95 of Forsaken Oath

It’s not until Peach mirrors her, stepping to the right, that I get it. She’s a physical barrier between this woman and this house—her sisters.

“Respect is earned. We have an agreement, and you keep forgetting that,” Peach says, her voice firm and even.

“Yeah, well, I want to fucking amend it,” Darla shouts.

“Yeah? Well, I want a refund on a fucking mother,” Eloise spits out, her voice dripping with venom. “But we don’t always get what we want, do we,Darla?”

I whistle under my breath.Mother? Of all the things I was expecting, that certainly wasn’t one of them.

Darla reels back, stumbling a few steps like she’s been slapped. I get my first glimpse of her. Her mouth opens and closes a few times, eyes bugging out of her head before she recovers. “You ungrateful little bitch. After everything I’ve done for you?—”

“Done for me?” Eloise laughs, the sound harsh and brittle. “What exactly have you done for me, huh? Get the fuck off of my lawn, Darla, before I call the cops.”

Darla laughs, this caustic sound that sends a chill of foreboding down my back. “This ain’t your house, though, is it? Maybe I’ll pay my old friend Levi a visit, hm?”

More pieces of the puzzle are sliding into place, painting a fucking picture I don’t think I like for my girl.

I straighten up, my fingers itching to throw the door open and stand in front of my girl. I’ll take all the hatefulness, so Peach doesn’t have to weather it. She’s tough as fuck though, as if I didn’t know that already.

“Don’t,” a soft voice whispers beside me, and I nearly jump.

Vivie’s standing at my side, her small frame dwarfed by mine. She’s clutching a sliver of cruller in one hand, but her eyes are on the window, her expression unreadable.

“I know it’s not fair, but it’s better if Louie takes on Darla alone. When someone else steps in,” she trails off, shaking her head. “It’s harder on Louie.”

I keep my voice even, watching her as I ask, “Do you know who that is?”

Her gaze flickers toward me, and she hesitates, like she’s deciding whether or not to trust me with the truth. Then, in avoice so soft I almost don’t hear it, she says, “Our mom. Louie doesn’t think I know, but Darla’s tried to come to school a couple of times to sign me out.”

My chest tightens as her words sink in, and my jaw clenches hard enough to hurt. “Shit, Viv. What happened?”

Vivie shrugs, like it’s nothing, but there’s a hint of something else in her eyes—something fragile and buried. “It was a few years ago now. I’ve never seen Louie as mad as she was that day. They let Darla take me. I tried to tell the office lady I didn’t want to go, but she didn’t listen.” She pauses, looking out the front window with an alarming amount of detachment. “Louie made her listen, though.”

The way she says it, quiet but sure, makes my chest ache. Eloise has been carrying so much for so long.

“Your sister’s a badass,” I say softly, and for the first time since that voice outside filled the air, Vivie’s lips tug up in a faint smile.

“Duh,” she whispers back, her eyes drifting to me. “So, are you like Louie’s boyfriend or something?”

The question catches me off guard, and I blink down at her for a moment before a slow smile spreads across my face. “Yeah, kid, I’m her man.”

It feels too fuckin’ weird to tell a thirteen-year-old that I’m her sister’s boyfriend.

Vivie studies me, her gaze assessing in a way that reminds me so much of Peach it almost hurts. After a beat, she nods once, like she’s come to some sort of decision. “Cool. Let’s go eat these donuts, because if she catches us eavesdropping, I’m blaming you.”

I follow behind her, stealing one more look out the window. It doesn’t feel good leaving, even if I’m doing jack shit by standing behind a door. I like to know that I could do something if I need to.

“Oh, and Beau?” Vivie calls over her shoulder from the kitchen. “I’m supposed to remind you that if you hurt her, Margot and I will kick your ass.”

She sends a thumbs-up toward the hallway, a peel of laughter floating down the hallway in response.

A surprised laugh escapes me, and I shake my head in amusement. “Duly noted, kid. Your sister’s in good hands with me, I promise you that.”

“Good. Because Margot knows Krav Maga.” She turns on her heel and marches back to the kitchen table, plopping down in front of the donut box.

I follow after her, my mind still reeling from everything I just witnessed. The pieces are starting to fall into place.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.”

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