Page 182 of Unwrapping Deviance

“Why do you guys both do that?” I ask, because it seems to mean something. Every time I do it in return, both stiffen like I’ve struck them.

He does it again. “This?”

I nod and mirror the gesture on him. Sure enough, his features tighten and the muscle under my thumb flexes.

“Dad was a bastard,” he murmurs quietly. “His biggest fear was raising a couple of ... well, nothing worth repeating. He was worse to Mom. Everything we did to displease him, she would suffer for it. But she still loved us with all her heart. I know Christian’s angry with her for what happened, leaving us to face Dad alone, but she took a lot before she couldn’t anymore. One of the things that drove Dad insane was her coddling us. Would not tolerate pansy sons with feelings. He went after Chris a lot, especially after Mom passed. Chris was always the soft one. More like Mom where I was more like—”

I cover his mouth, anger and heartbreak right in my chest. “Don’t you dare say like him. You are nothing like him.”

Daniel wraps his fingers around my wrist and gently brings my palm in for a kiss before lowering it.

“In the way he wanted his sons,” he finishes lightly. “I was in all the right sports, ran in all the right crowds. I was living his teen life over for him. Chris couldn’t. I know he tried but it was never enough. He got the shit kicked out of him a lot when we were kids. Dad tried really hard to break theweaknessout of him.”

“Chris is not weak!”

“No, he’s not. But, back to this,” he strokes my cheek, “Mom wasn’t allowed to say I love you. This,” his thumb whispers over my cheek again, swiping the tear I tried really hard to contain, “was how she’d say it.”

I couldn’t breathe around the knot of glad wedged in my throat.

I don’t know how many times I can say I hate Jefferson before it loses meaning, but I wish nothing but misery and pain, and a complete structural collapse for this town. I want every corrupt person living and breathing within the parameters to watch their life fall apart with no one to help them.

Maybe that’s asking a lot. Maybe that’s asking too much. But they deserve my curse more than anyone and it’s the one time I pray with every piece of my soul my curse actually takes lives.

In fact, they can take it. Jefferson is now solely responsible for my curse. It no longer belongs to me. I leave it on their doorstep the second we leave this shithole.

“Let’s go home,” I choke out. “Please. I can’t be in this house a second longer.”

Daniel kisses my nose lightly. “We are never coming back, Mira. I promise you.”

He stands and takes my hand. I let him lead me out of his parent’s bedroom and down the stairs.

Christian pushing upright from his leaning position against the front door and stuffs his phone into his back pocket.

His hands close into my sides before I take the last step.

“How are you?”

Pissed.

Frothing with a barely contained rage I can almost taste in my throat.

“Is there anything here you guys want?” I ask, struggling to control my tone.

“No,” both say automatically.

With a nod, move past them straight into the kitchen. I yank open the broom closet and jerk out an old, wooden bat and a slightly bent golf club.

Both men stare from me to the items when I march back to them.

“I don’t think he needs his pathetic shrine anymore,” I say, glancing back over my shoulder at the wall of Ryan MacAllister, piece of shit dad, husband and all-around human.

The two glance at each other, then at the items I held out to them.

Neither say a word.

Daniel takes the bat.

Christian accepts the club.

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