The ring of the doorbell a short while later snapped me back to reality. Somehow, even with my trip down nightmare lane, I managed to clean the majority of the house. Not that it was ever dirty.
“The cavalry has arrived,” Henley announced when I opened the door to find two boxes stacked in her arms.
After the morning I’d had, my best friend’s smiling face was the perfect medicine to cure my ailing mood. She radiated confidence—something she lacked before Keaton came into her life. His dark and broody attitude fit her like a well-worn glove.
“God bless you.” I sighed dramatically, snagging the top box on her pile before kicking the door shut behind us.
“Was that a genuineGod bless youor were you being extra feisty like one of those Southern belles from the western romance you told me you’re editing?”
Busting out laughing, I said, “First of all, the phrase isbless your heart, so no, I was not being feisty.”
“Potayto, patahto.” She rolled her eyes. “Where do you want these?”
Entering the kitchen, I saw the kids had done a decent job with the veggies, however, there was still so much left to do. While I busied myself filling and arranging the fancy boards with fruit, nuts, cheese, and sauces, Henley cut up loaves of Italian bread for the dill dip I made last night.
Henley checked her watch when a loud knock came from the front door. “It’s too early for everyone else.” When the knock became an incessant pounding, she said, “And they certainly wouldn’t do that.”
She trailed me as I stormed—well, hobbled quickly—toward the obnoxious sound, my belly churning with awareness. Everyone I knew was either here already or wouldn’t arrive for another hour or more. Everyone except…
Please. Not today.
I took a cleansing breath, which then turned into two before I flung open the door and took in the two individuals hovering on the front porch.
Bill and Trudy Trumble had done their damnedest to destroy our childhood with their nasty words and cruel hands. For a while, I thought they’d succeeded. Instead, I’d clawed my way out of the shadows with Jett at my side. They thought they’d won, but they were in for a rude awakening if they thought I’d cower like the eighteen-year-old girl they’d abandoned. Hell, I wasn’t even the same girl theytormented a few weeks ago. In that time, I’d learned a very important lesson.
I might be a little cracked, maybe even shattered, but nothing and no one would ever break me.
“What do you want?” I snapped.
“Is that any way to speak to your parents?” my father snarled, trying to peer around me. With anger on my side, I stepped onto the porch, quickly closing the door, effectively shutting off their view.
“If I had actual parents instead of used-up addicts, you might have a point. Now answer my question.”
Before Koen bowled his way into my life like a wrecking ball, obliterating my defenses, I never would have had the courage to stand up for myself. He showed me that strength came from the people you choose to surround yourself with. And since Henley had positioned herself at my side and was currently eyeing the assholes on my birth certificate like she was preparing to throw down, I’d say he was right.
“Koen and Keaton are on their way.” She spoke to me, though her gaze never left their target.
“This was my mother’s house. I have a right to be here.”
The crazy thing was, my mother believed the bullshit she just spewed. Needless to say, we weren’t getting anywhere, and I prayed with all my might Jett hadn’t heard the commotion. His presence would only serve to escalate an already hazardous situation.
“You don’t,” I scoffed. “Why don’t you just tell me what you want, I’ll say no, and then we can go back to what we were doing before you interrupted us?”
“You ungrateful bitch,” my father spat.
Nudging Henley out of the way, he latched on to my upper arms, slamming my back against the house. His grip was unyielding, and I knew there’d be bruises later.
Doors slammed in the distance, followed by the fast paced sound of heavy shoes hammering against the concrete, but it wasn’t until I heard his voice that I knew the jig was up…in more ways than one.
“Get your fucking hands off my wife.”
6SUBTLE
Koen
When Henley texted Keaton, we were about six minutes away. The lack of traffic and the fear flowing through my veins meant we made it in three. Keaton’s muttered curse drew my attention away from parking my car in time to witness my girl get slammed against her house. I was out of the door an instant later, ignoring my best friend’s attempts to calm me down.
Red-hot rage blinded me as I stormed up the sidewalk, laser-focused on the motherfucker who was two seconds away from having his arms ripped from his body.