Page 96 of Kings Against the World

He knows I’ll never fight back. I’ll never put my hands on him. They both know I won’t ever stand up for myself. Why would they expect any differently when I never have before?

I’m their punching bag, their dumping ground. The family mule.

…and I’ve never had enough courage to stop. Walk away for my own sanity and well-being.

“What is wrong with you?!” Mom wails.

But she’s not talking to him—she’s rounding on me, her once drowsy expression twisting into venomous contempt.

“Why do you always have to rile your father up?! Why do you have to ruin everything?!”

“Me?!” I choke out, my chest aching from breathlessness. “You’re blaming me? You’re crazy… you’re both fucking crazy!”

“You made him upset?—”

“You should be grateful I still come here! You should be on your fucking knees thanking me for all I do!” I scream, tears blurring my vision. I push off the counter and rush out of the kitchen, darting through the house. They scramble after me. “It was all your fault—ALL OF IT! Not mine. It was you. Both of you. You failed me and Zani. You fucking failed us at every fucking turn. You let Boone take her! You let him take my sister because you were too selfish to clean up your fucking act! And you told me… you let me think it was my fault all these years!”

Mom presses her hands to her ears like she can block out the truth. “Stop it!”

“I’ll never forgive you!” I choke out, voice raw. “Neither of you! You let her die!”

Dad lunges at me, his rage bubbling over. His hands grab for me, shoving hard enough to send me stumbling back. He swings—his fist aiming for my ribs—but this time, I block it, deflecting his arm away before he can land the hit.

Mom joins him, swiping her hand at me as I finally make it to the door, wrenching it open and stumbling down the front steps of the porch.

My legs move on their own, carrying me down the front path in a blind, breathless escape. Tears stream down my face for the first real time in years, uncontrollable sobs forcing their way out.

The world tilts, everything spinning as I step into the road to make it to the other side, far enough away from them where I can order a new rideshare.

A horn blares, joined by the screech of tires skidding against pavement. I look up only to find blinding headlights shining at me.

Oh shit?—

Strong hands yank me back at the last possible second, jerking me onto the sidewalk before the car can slam into me. My body crashes against something solid, someone holding me upright as my knees nearly buckle.

“Holy shit, Zoe. What the fuck was that?”

The voice is familiar. Rough, low, edged with concern. I blink and tip my head back, chest heaving, staring upside down at the man who’s holding me.

Ozzie.

26

OZZIE

Zoe’s lostin a daze as I set her back on her feet. Her body’s stiff, like she’s still in flight mode. Her breaths come in short, sharp gasps, chest rising and falling way too fast.

“Shit, Zoe,” I mutter, still confused myself. “What the hell were you thinking? You almost got turned into fucking roadkill!”

She doesn’t answer. Just stands there, glassy-eyed and rattled as if doesn’t register I’m even standing in front of her. That I just yanked her ass out of oncoming traffic. I take in the sight of her from her puffy eyes to the cheeks wet with tears that have fallen to the way her long, thick braids are scattered over her shoulder like she’s been moving so much she doesn’t care.

Then I see it—the blood at the corner of her lip.

Something’s up. Something bad.

I step toward her, grabbing her at the elbows for a closer look. “Is that a cut on your lip? Who did this?”

She blinks at me, those wild eyes darting everywhere but mine. My stomach knots, a sick, ugly feeling rolling through me.

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