Page 66 of Resist

Charles slammed the table again, cutting Wes off. And then he slammed it again with more force, causing the entire table toshift. “I’ve had enough of your defiance, boy. When your brother died because of her, I questioned God for punishing me, for taking my pride and leaving me with you. But I didn’t get a say in the matter—”

“Charles,” Marissa whisper-yelled at him.

But it didn’t stop him. He only spoke louder, overriding his wife. “I didn’t get to choose which one of you died and which one of you lived, or else this story would have gone a little differently. Fine. God wants to leave me withyou, then so be it. But I won’t stand for any more of your insolence, boy. You’re going to defy me and lead this fucking operation to rescue the Telvian, then fine. But so help me, youwillfollow orders or live to regret it.”

My heart pounded. Fear gripped my core. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I couldn’t believe that this was Wes’s real life. That his father was so open and blatant about his preference for Chase. But I guess if anyone could understand Wes’s situation, it would be me. Suddenly, I felt like I was back in Telvia, back at the dinner table of my own home, with my parents openly discussing what a disgrace I was. And all I could do to keep from crawling under the table was chug the rest of my wine.

“And you,” Charles continued, turning his attention to me. I bit down on my bottom lip as he opened fire. “Youwillaccept his proposal, and youwillhonor this family. Marissa told me about that boy that went into your room.”

I caught movement on the other side of the table, and I peeked at Wes out of the corner of my eye, catching him staring at me. And the look I saw there made me feel rotten inside, because I swore I saw hurt in his eyes.

Charles continued, “You will honor the Calvernon name and conduct yourself in the manner that a happy bride does. And if you should survive that train wreck of a mission, youwillmarry my son, and Iwillhave my portion of Telvia. Do you understand?”

I couldn’t move. I was frozen. And suddenly, I was feeling sick to my stomach. “I…” I wanted to tell him to go eff off. But every part of me was glued to the chair, afraid that I would give myself away. That any word—any shift—would reveal my secret. That I had no intention of following through with any of it. “I—”

“Stupid girl.”

“Hey!” Wes snapped, his tone thick with hate as he stood up from the table. “We’ve got it,okay? And since you’ve made it all so clear and laid everything out for us, we should start rehearsing all our lines for this fucking show you’re putting on.”

“Now you listen here, boy—”

“No, Dad,” he interjected, his words dripping acid. “Youlisten.” Wes walked around the table towards me. “I get you wish I was dead, that Chase was still alive.Sorry. Too. Fucking. Bad. You got me instead. So I’ll follow your fucking orders, but she doesn’t deserve to deal with your shit. That’s between you and me. So leave her out of it! You got that?”

Wes was at my side, grabbing my arm, and encouraging me to stand. I wasn’t going to fight him on this one. I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible, but the room was starting to spin, and it only felt worse as I stood. Somehow, I maintained my balance.

“Let’s go, Mara,” Wes coaxed.

Charles glared at Wes, and for once, Marissa’s smug smile was gone and in its place was sorrow. At that moment, I realized Marissa cared for Wes, that she didn’t approve of any of this. And I felt bad for her. She was trapped in a war between her spouse and her son, and that was a terrible place to be.

Wes tugged on my arm gently, and I followed. But just as I took a step, the world spun harder on me, causing me to grip Wes’s arm.

Charles stood. “You willsit downat this table—”

“Turns out,” Wes shot back, “we’re not hungry.” He looped an arm around my waist and ushered me out of the room. Just as I heard the satisfyingclickof the door latching closed, I felt the world spin, and the floor was pulled out from underneath me.

36: Stay

“Easy now.” Wes tightened his grip as I swayed backward, about to fall. I wasn’t really sure what was happening, but all I knew was that I felt awful.

I closed my eyes, my fingers clenching onto Wes’s shirt for dear life. “Something’s wrong. Everything’s spinning.” Somehow, closing my eyes felt worse. What the hell was wrong with me?

“You’re fine. You’re just drunk.”

Drunk? I opened my eyes again and tried to take steps forward, only to feel my knees wobble. “I don’t know what that is.”

Wes smiled softly. “It means you’re a lightweight.”

“A what?” I tried to take another step and realized it was a bad idea. The world tipped sideways as I pitched forward.

“Whoa!” Wes wrapped his arm around my waist from behind, bringing my back up against his chest and keeping me from nose-diving into the red carpet.

My stomach churned. I brought my hands to my mouth and pushed firmly on my lips. I felt like I was about to throw up. “I feel sick,” I mumbled through my hands.

“Well, just make sure you hurl on the carpet. My dad will love that.” Even though I couldn’t see his face, I could hear the humor in his voice. Pissing his father off was clearly one of Wes’s favorite pastimes.

“Ugh,” I moaned. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I hated the way my stomach felt, the way acid bubbled up my throat. “I’ve got to lie down.”

“Yeah, I got you,” he agreed. And before I knew what was happening, Wes swooped me up into his arms, my head coming to rest against his shoulder as he carried me.

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