Page 130 of That's Too Pucking Bad

He sighs, leaning back against the headboard. For a long time, he doesn’t say anything, and I’m about to give up when he finally speaks.

“My dad’s a motherfucker,” he says flatly. “He’s spent my whole life beating the shit out of me, telling me I’m worthless, making sure I know I’ll never be good enough.”

I suck in a breath, my stomach twisting.

“And when he wasn’t doing that,” Zane continues, his voice hardening, “he was using me. Sending me to do his dirty work. Threatening people, breaking things, hurting people. All so he could sit back and keep his hands clean.”

“Jesus, Zane,” I whisper, my hand reaching for his without thinking. “That’s… that’s fucked up.”

He lets out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. I mean it stopped once I joined the Reapers. And then that shit died out the night I chased you in the woods behind the mansion because I’m done. I’m done being a fucking pawn for people higher up.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, squeezing his hand. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“What was I supposed to say?” he snaps, his voice rising. “That my dad’s a psycho who’d probably kill me if I tried to leave? That he’s got enough dirt on me to ruin my life ten times over? The Reapers kept me safe, but once he gets wind that I’m out then…”

“Zane,” I start, but he cuts me off.

“I’m fucking trapped, Remy,” he says, his voice breaking again. “No matter what I do, no matter how far I run, he’ll always be there, pulling the strings. And now...” He trails off, his hands trembling. “Now he’s dragging you into it. He’s fucking with your life because of me.”

“Hey,” I say quickly, shifting closer to him. “This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“Isn’t it?” he asks, his eyes meeting mine. “If I’d just stayed away, if I hadn’t gotten involved with you...”

“Stop,” I say firmly, cutting him off. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to blame yourself for shit that’s out of your control. Your dad’s the one doing this, not you.”

He looks at me, his expression a mix of anger and vulnerability. “You don’t get it,” he says quietly. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

“Then tell me,” I say, my voice softening. “Help me understand.”

For a moment, he just stares at me, like he’s trying to decide if he can trust me. Then he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s just...” He shakes his head. “I’m so fucking tired, Remy. Tired of pretending, tired of fighting, tired of... everything.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I just pull him into my arms, holding him as tightly as I can. He doesn’t resist, his head dropping onto my shoulder as he hugs me back.

We stay like that for what feels like forever, neither of us saying a word. And for once, I think he’s finally letting himself just... be.

Eventually, his breathing evens out, and I think he’s fallen asleep. But then I hear the front door open, followed by the unmistakable sound of my mom’s voice.

“Shit,” I whisper, pulling away from Zane. “My mom’s home.”

He sits up, wiping at his face. “I should go,” he says, but I shake my head.

“Stay here,” I say quickly. “I’ll handle it.”

I grab a sweatshirt from the floor and pull it on over my tank top and shorts, then head downstairs. My mom is inthe kitchen, slamming cabinet doors and muttering under her breath.

“Mom?” I ask cautiously, stepping into the room. “What’s going on?”

She turns to me, her face flushed with anger. “I got fired,” she says flatly.

My stomach drops. “What?”

“Apparently, my position is no longer necessary,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Bullshit corporate excuse for ‘we don’t want you around anymore.’”

I blink, trying to process what she’s saying. My mom’s been at that job for years. They wouldn’t just fire her out of the blue. The shock subsides and I finally realize what’s happening.

Fuck.

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