Page 72 of The Masks We Break

Ugh. Get control, Remy. Find the freaking words.

He sighs, irritation seeping into his voice. “I’m a very busy man,con gái.So if you do—”

With just that one word, anger flashes through my vision, stained with the memories of his verbal abuse. His neglect.His hate.This is the last time he will ever say it to me.

“I amnotyour daughter.” It flies out of my mouth before I can stop it, and instinctively I flinch, waiting for the invisible slap.

“Excuse me?”

Clenching my teeth, I walk to the front door, slipping out into the cold air. It does little to quell the fire still coursing through me, but it helps me breathe. “Do you love me?”

There’s a moment of silence, and just like that, I know without him saying another word. I look up and see the moon. The moon that’s helped me for so many nights not succumb to the darkness. The same one that’s pummeled by meteors relentlessly but still stands strong, beauty in all its flaws.

Finally, he clears his throat, saying what I’ve always known. What I’ve always felt. “No. You don’t deserve to be loved. She was my—”

“I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. Please don’t ever contact me again.” I hear myself say it, but I can’t believe I actually did. It feels like an out-of-body experience. The timid Remy floating in the air, while a calm, controlled one takes the reins.

“This is a fucking joke, right?” he cuts in, and I picture his face a tomato red.

Normally I’d back down, mutter an apology and disappear. But not anymore. Things have changed.

I have changed.

The one man that controls me doesn’t do it to hold me under his thumb. Doesn’t do it to ridicule or hold it over my head. He does it at my will, leading me through the dark when I’m too damn tired to walk out on my own. And he saidIam in control.

“If you contact me again, I will file a restraining order, while also contacting an attorney concerning domestic violence. I’m sure you wouldn’t want the board of medicine to hear about that. Can you imagine the scandal? Your ruin? Then the Solace name will mean exactly what it’s meant to me since the day I was born—nothing.”

I don’t wait for a response. Instead, I click the little red circle, look to the moon, and breathe.

It’s the first one I’ve ever taken, not poisoned with lies and hurt, and it feels really good.

THIRTY TWO

Freedom.

That’s the closest word I can grasp to describe how I feel right now—the pure lightness in my steps, the flutter of my heart, all of it.

I assumed parents are something we had to hold on to no matter how crappy they are. But letting him go was exactly how Lily described. I hadn’t realized I was drowning until the shackle fell, and I came to the surface for my first breath.

Ignoring the seventh call from my father, I turn my phone off, tuck it into my pocket, and skip across the grass, excitement whirling in my chest to tell Blaze what I did. How brave I was.

I bang on the door a little too hard, making it rattle, but I don’t care. I can’t wait to tell him. Heck, maybe it might grant me a little punishment—and in that case, perhaps I should knock again.

The thought blooms in my core, and I raise my fist again. Before I can hit it, the door swings open, a not-so-happy Blaze standing on the threshold.

His dark hair is mussed, dropping over his forehead, wrinkled from raised angry eyebrows. The usually shiny blue eye is dark, matching the storm raging in his gray one. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, and I can’t keep my hands to myself.

I move quickly, folding my arms around his neck and hop up on him. He reads my needs, sliding his hands under the bottom of my butt and lifts, letting me wrap my legs around his waist.

“Puppet, what the hell? I thought something was wrong. You can’t—”

My lips crash against his, taking control of his mouth becauseI can. Whatever anger was there seems to melt away as he kisses me back, slipping his tongue inside to dance with mine.

He groans in my mouth, sending heat straight to my center. I tangle my hands in his hair, tugging until he turns around, walking us inside, and kicking his door shut. The movement puts friction on the metal ball, sending spikes of heat through my limbs.

Blaze slows the kiss, even as I whimper in protest, and dislodges from my hold. He slowly releases me down his body, and I moan when his length slides over my stomach. “What’s going on?”

“I did a thing!” Even though I’d rather rip his clothes off, the elation from earlier works its way back in, and I bounce on my toes.

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