Page 105 of Left-Hand Larceny

She’s already out of her seat and heading for the bar before I can stop her.

Mads looks at me. “Do you want to call the police?”

“No,” I say, thinking of the way his nose crunched under my fist. Technically, I assaulted him. “I don’t think that’ll do anything. I don’t think he’ll try anything… but if that ever changes, I’ll take care of it. I promise.”

“Okay,” she says. “But we’re taking you home. No arguments.”

I nod.

Quinn puts an arm around my shoulders and squeezes. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I think I might be a little proud of me too,” I whisper.

Jen smiles. “You should be. That was badass.”

By the time Tristan gets back, I’ve finished my cider and my hands have stopped shaking.

“He’s gone,” she says. “Bartender walked him out himself. Do I want to ask about the blood dripping down his expensive shirt?”

I wince. “Thanks. And no, probably not.”

“Always.”

The lights are on when I walk in.

My mom’s in the kitchen, a cup of tea in her hand. My dad’s nowhere in sight, probably already gone to bed. She turns when the door closes behind me.

“You’re home late,” she says.

I kick off my shoes. “It’s not that late.”

“It’s almost midnight. And you’ve been drinking.”

“I had two ciders.”

“You have work tomorrow.”

I drop my purse on the counter harder than I mean to. “It’s a game day. I’m not on until the afternoon.”

She raises an eyebrow. “No need to be snippy, Sadie. We just want to see you be responsible.”

Something inside me snaps.

“Then stop talking to me like I’m a problem to solve.”

Her mouth opens. Closes. “Excuse me?”

I face her fully. “You always do this. I say something, and instead of listening, you correct it. You fix it. You make it smaller.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it? You want to know why I stayed with Christian? Why I’m still in this job I hate? Why I’m drowning in a program I never wanted?”

She stares at me.

“Because I’ve spent my whole life trying to be good enough for you and Dad. Because I thought if I was perfect, you’d stay.”

“Sadie—”

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