Page 38 of Golden Rule

What would I say when I got there?

Would it be awkward because I’ve waited so long?

Do I even know how to interact with this new, sober version of Mike Riley?

I take out my phone to glance at the time. Scar should be home now, and knowing she’ll be around takes the edge off a bit.

“Okay,” I say with a sigh. “You’re right. We should go.”

“I’m not trying to push or anything. I just?—”

“No, Iwantto go,” I assure him. “It’ll be fun.”

My smile is forced, and my words are filled with hope. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about getting my hopes up about the Riley clan, it’s simple.

I shouldn’t.

Because outside of my sister, Scar, the others have this uncanny knack for letting me down.

Here’s hoping tonight will be different.

Chapter Eleven

Blue

Even from the curb, the house feels… different.

And yet, the exact same.

I used to dread the sight of this place—the dinted siding and faded shutters, the rusty chair that sat on the front porch, the lawn that was mostly dirt and crabgrass. But as West and I sit here tonight, observing from the car, it’s almost unrecognizable.

When my dad got sober, it was like a fog lifted from his brain. All of a sudden, he could see the damage he’d caused, couldsee all he’d neglected, including my siblings and me. So, as he’s cleaned up his life, he hasn’t just been on a mission to right his wrongs withus,the house has gotten a facelift, too.

Instead of that old, worn siding, the front has a brick façade and new support beams for the overhang. And that old, rusted out chair that wasliterallyon its last leg has been replaced with a bench my father built himself.

A pang of guilt hits when I think of the word to describe my current feelings.

Bittersweet.

An echo of my father’s voice lives rent-free inside my head. I mean, it’salwaysthere, blaringly loud, impossible to tune out. And the words he shouts at me aren’t words a man should even say to hisenemy, let alone his own flesh and blood. Yes, there was the name calling and bullying, but sometimes, I think constantly being compared to my mother—'the deadbeat bitch who ruined his life’—was perhaps the most damaging.

On one hand, I’m grateful my dad’s gotten his life together, grateful he’s finally being the man of the house. But on the other hand, it all feels just a little too late. I could’ve used a real dad when I was growing up. Instead, I got a shell of a man who loved the bottle more than he loved his own children.

Don’t think like that.

He’s changed for the better, Blue, and that’s the important part.

“Ready?”

I glance toward West, forcing a smile when I nod. “Yep.”

He comes around to open my door, then takes my hand as we make our way to the porch. Ringing the bell, I let out a breath at the sound of footfalls on the other side of the threshold. As we wait, West’s phone sounds off back-to-back, and even before he checks it, I’m certain I know who it is.

“Sterling?”

“Yep, in a full rage,” West answers.

Another wave of frustration hits as I consider how Pandora’s antics have, yet again, ruined what could have been a perfectly good day.

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