Page 35 of Better Watch Out

“So none of you have killed each other yet?”His choice of words make me wince, and I’m glad he can’t see the way I cringe at the joke.

But I force myself to laugh, the sound like a rough grating in my throat. “No, uh. Not yet.” I try hard to sound casual and light. But I’m not sure how well I succeeded, judging by Dad’s silence. He doesn’t know what to say, clearly.

That makes two of us.

“I’m really sorry, Con.”He lets out a heavy sigh that makes me feel a little bad. “I really wanted to be there. I’ve missed you since you decided to leave.” That’s certainly an understatement for the dramatic way I’d disappeared in the night with a note for my dad telling him I wasn’t coming back and I would be fine.

Not that I feel the least bit guilty about it.

But I let out the breath I’m holding, pushing my hand against my face. “It’s fine, Dad.” It’s not really, and I intend on holding a grudge, which I’ve only ever been good at when it comes to my stepbrothers. “Are you uh, are you and Cheryl doing anything for Christmas Eve today?”

“Just finishing up some stuff around the house. Cheryl is hoping to get your Christmas gifts up there before you leave. She went a little crazy on you this year. But I told her maybe we’ll have to see if we can get an address for you in Illinois, instead.” I can hear the way his voice dips with a bitter note, and something in me twists, guilt flooding my lungs like water. The feeling sucks, and I open my mouth, then close it, afraid of saying something I’ll regret one way or another.

“Maybe, I umm…can be here a few extra days,” I say at last, fearing every word that comes out of my mouth. “I don’t have to get back super soon. Since I’ve just been working with a friend at her shop.” It’s more than Dad has known about my life in years, and he jumps on it.

Our conversation turns easy and casual, with him asking more and more questions when I open up to him little by little. It’s hard for me, but not just because I’ve been trying to keep to myself for all these years. It’s hard because I don’t want him to know what happened to me last spring.

I don’t want him to think less of me for swallowing all the pills I later vomited up at the hospital. When he finally admits he has to go, I’m surprised to see we’ve been on the phone for over an hour. It’s now eight thirty-two according to my phone, and I’m starting to get hungry, judging by the way my stomach feels like it’s trying to eat itself.

“Okay. Umm…” God, this is harder than it should be. “Maybe we can call again? Tomorrow or something, so we can wish each other Merry Christmas?” I’m trying to extend an olive branch without overcommitting myself, and while I won’t admit it, I’m afraid I’ll disappoint him by running away again.

“That would be great, Conor,” Dad tells me. “I really appreciate you giving us a chance. And giving your brothers a chance. We’ve all missed you. Maybe…”he trails off and my lungs seem to freeze in fear. “Maybe this can be a new beginning for all of us.”

“Maybe.” I can’t give him a commitment one way or the other, but I can at least do that much. Even though he can’t see it I find myself smiling, rubbing Sitka’s fur in an attempt to keep myself from fidgeting from anxiety so much. “Thanks for calling, Dad. It’s been nice to talk like this again.”

Fuck, I’ve missed it.

When Dad says his goodbyes and hangs up, I find I can’t sit still. I’m too restless, too fidgety. I get to my feet and go to my door, not hesitating before opening it and heading out to the main area with Sitka trotting out with me.

To my surprise, Fletcher and Boone are still down here, instead of having gone back to their room to prowl or plot orfuck. Fletcher is still perched on the edge of the sofa, and Boone has put clothes on, thank god, to fiddle with the remote and flip through Christmas specials.

“Oh.” I stop when I see flames in the fireplace, flickering continuously. “You turned the fireplace on.” I hadn’t thought the two of them would care that much, and I’d be figuring it out on my own.

“Well, yeah.” Boone twists to look up at me. “You always liked the fireplace being on. I figured that hadn’t changed much, so I got it going for you.” He’s so…honest. His face is full of bemusement at my surprise.

“Thank you.” It’s probably the first time I’ve thanked them, honestly thanked them, in years. “I’m just surprised since you’re not normally very thoughtful, Boone.” Stepping forward, I reach out to ruffle his hair in a way I know he’ll hate. Sure enough he hunches his shoulders and grumbles a few complaints, but he doesn’t jerk away like I thought he would.

Which only means it’s easier for my attention to fixate on the flames, the details of my conversation with dad playing on repeat in my brain. My fingers sink into Boone’s hair, massaging his scalp, and it’s sort of like how I pet Sitka, just to ground myself and keep my hands busy.

“He’s going to start purring if you aren’t careful.” Fletcher’s low chuckle snaps me out of my thoughts and I look over at him, surprised, before glancing down at Boone. Sure enough, he’s leaning against the back of the sofa, completely relaxed and boneless under my hand. I snort and pull my fingers free from his thick brown hair, garnering another resentful groan from him as his eyes open, meeting mine in a way I can only describe as pouting.

“Who knew you liked physical affection? I could go a step further and wonder out loud if you let Fletcher put a collar onyou while he pets your head. Are you his good little puppy, Boone?” I coo theatrically, looking to get a rise out of him.

Instead he turns to look sidelong at Fletcher, who doesn’t say a word.

And it dawns on me that I’mright.

“Wow.Wow.” I shake my head, eyeing them both on my way to the patio door, which I jerk open to let Sitka out. “Just wow, you two. It’s almost like you’re secretly soft instead of the worst people on Earth. I mean, youarethe worst,” I add. “Just so you know. But I didn’t expect the pet play.” Rummaging around in the fridge yields a Lunchable that’s probably Boone’s, and a bottle of water I suppose I should drink instead of loading up on more chocolate milk. After making sure Sitka’s bowls are full, I come back to the living room with her panting from her romp in the snow.

She immediately heads to the couch, hopping in between the boys while I move to curl up on one of the recliners with my food. “So I’m thinking about escaping today,” I mention, loving the feel of the heat on my face from the fireplace. “Or you know, going to stay literally anywhere else.”

“Oh, yeah?” Fletcher doesn’t seem bothered, and doesn’t look up from his phone. “In what vehicle, exactly?”

“Thought I’d steal your truck.” I would never, and all of us know it.

But Boone snickers and Fletcher slowly looks up at me, meeting my gaze. “Maybe you rethink that, princess,” he advises flatly. “Otherwise, Christmas light bondage and a bit of spanking will look like body worship when I’m done with you.”

His words make me shudder, and I promise myself that it’s fear and revulsion. Nothing else. Certainly not exhilaration, and wondering just what he might be planning. Though I remind myself that this is one thing I’m too afraid to do, because of the consequences from Fletcher, sure.

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