Page 6 of Rhett

But I came back. I didn’t want to go. I would have stayed if I could.

The second I hear Dad’s footsteps, I drop my head back, banging it against the cabinet.

“Go,” I tell East, hoping he has time to sneak out the back door before Dad can see him. I can deal with Dad’s shit, but I don’t want East to have to. When he doesn’t move, I push around him, heading off Dad in the living room before he can get to the kitchen and see East. A moment later, I hear the door click closed behind East.

He yells at me for thirty minutes, like I’m a child, reminding me how much I disappoint him, how bad it will look for the family if people see me beat up like this. Tells me how I’ll never be as good as him, then makes me feel guilty by telling me how much he counts on me, how he can’t depend on Morgan or East, but he can depend on me. I shouldn’t like to hear it, but I do.

“Morgan is smart,” I tell him. “People love him. And East, if you’d just give him a chance, he—”

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t understand you, Rhett. Why you’re so weak. Neither of them would defend you the way you do them. They hate you because you’re like me.”

I hate me for the same thing…and he’s right. There’s no doubt in my mind that my brothers hate me.

Dad puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “It’s just the two of us who’ll carry on the family name the way it deserves…the way your mom wanted. She wished for that for you, Rhett, for you and me to be successful together.”

I’m not proud to admit that my heart swells at those words. “Yes, sir.”

“Go get cleaned up,” he orders. “I’ll not have you walking around the house and looking a mess all day.”

I nod. He leaves for work. East is gone. I go upstairs, shower, and get dressed. When Dusty arrives, I’m sitting on the porch swing Mom loved so much—well, not the same one. Dad got rid of that, and now we have one that looks different.

“He’s gone,” I tell Dusty.

“Where did he go?”

“He left for California early.”

Dusty goes down, collapsing into a heap on the porch. He loves Morgan so damn much, and I hate that my brother hurt him, hate that he left him all because of one moment in time.

I walk over and sit beside him. “We fucked up.”

“You can say that again.”

“You’re in love with him?” I ask, but don’t wait for him to reply. “He’ll get over it. He’ll stop being a big fucking baby and get everything he wants because that’s how life works for him.” Morgan will follow his dreams, not Dad’s. He’ll get Dusty, and I’ll always be alone.

CHAPTER ONE

Rhett

Present day

Ihave noidea what I’m doing here.

I sit in the driver’s seat of the new truck I recently purchased and stare out at the snow coming down. It’s January, one of the coldest months of the year in the UP, but we haven’t yet received the amount of snow typical for this area. It’s cloudy and gray, and I’m sitting here thinking about the weather rather than doing what I came here to do.

I don’t know how I feel about this. I don’t see how talking to someone can help. It’s giving power to another person, and that’s something I promised myself I would never do again. I’ve always needed to be in control—except when it came to my father—but ever since last summer, when he was so hateful to East the last time he was arrested, I haven’t had anything to do with him. I’ve sworn to be my own man and not let anyone have power over me again.

And it’s freeing in some ways, but in others, I can’t seem to get myself out of the chains that come along with being Rhett Swift—that come with being a Swift, really.

I force myself to get out of the truck, the cold air biting at my skin as I make my way toward the building. After pulling open the first door, I shake the snow off my jacket and continue inside. There’s a pit in my stomach that grows by the second, but I do my best to ignore it the way I’ve ignored too many things in my life.

Once inside, I see a white woman behind the main desk. A couple of people are sitting in the waiting room, but I don’t recognize any of them from Birchbark, where I live. I specifically came to Lillington in the hopes of keeping my business to myself. Funny how everyone knows everything about everyone, but no one ever figured out that my dad is a manipulative, emotionally abusive motherfucker. Or if they did figure it out, they didn’t care enough to do anything about it.

“Can I help you?” The woman smiles at me in a way that says she can tell I’m nervous, so I school my features, stand up straight, and put on the mask I’ve worn my whole life.

“I’m Rhett Swift. I’m here to see Talia,” I say with a confidence that has probably never been real.

“It looks like you filled out all your paperwork online, so we just need to get a copy of your ID and insurance card.”

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