Page 54 of Backfire
Angus waved his hand past the shelves of books behind him. “Go to your room.”
I wasn’t happy about his decision, but what could I do? So, I grumbled under my breath and pushed myself out of the chair. For now, I’d play Angus’s game. He was just digging himself a deeper hole for when Perry did get here.
“Oh, and, Sydney?” Angus called out as I stormed away. “You will apologize to Reese.”
Like fuck I would.
I looked over my shoulder and shot Angus a fake smile. “Sure thing.”
The only thing Reese would get from me was a big, fatkiss my ass. Then again, maybe not. He might actually kiss my ass. Kind of like if I told Wyatt to fuck off. I could see that prick taking it as an invitation for another round of exhibitionistic masturbation.
I blamed CPS for all of this. Family reunification was a bullshit policy created so they could save face. I got it. No one liked the people who split up families. After all, public image was more important than the safety of the child.
Don’t get me wrong, I was happy to have Charmaine back, but we didn’t need the rest of the Adair household. Especially Angus with his stupid rules.
My fists balled as I rounded the corner to my room. I paused long enough to eye the door next to mine. Was Devlin in there right now? I bet he was gloating over his father’s new escort rule.
“Fuck that. Find someone else to follow her around!”
Or he wasn’t.
Okay, that picked up my mood a little. Judging by the volume of his voice, I’d say Devlin wasn’t too happy about his father’s new rule. Normally, I’d be all over something that pissed him off—prick deserved a taste of his own medicine. That didn’t mean I was pumped to spend time with him.
The next words I heard him growl made me cock a brow.
“I don’t give a shit if she’s my responsibility.”
His responsibility? I must’ve missed that in the court documents. Last I checked, it was Angus who married my mother, not Devlin. Was Mr. Adair passing the buck off to his son? Interesting. Wonder how Perry would feel about that? Maybe someone should tell him?
My hand froze on the metal knob as I shifted my gaze to the closed door down the hall.
Or someone could show him.
There was a reason phones were capable of recording, right? Unfortunately, I had the worst timing in the world. Or Devlin had the best. I stood there for five minutes holding my phone out, but Devlin didn’t say another word. Not one that I could hear, anyway. I thought about trying to sneak closer, but did I really want to risk another trek into the pit of snakes?
Sure, none of them were real. That didn’t mean I couldn’t feel their beady little eyes watching me. I should’ve grabbed that poor polar bear and taken him to safety. Oh well, Snowball was stuck in there now. There was no way I was stepping foot in that room again. And certainly not for some half-cocked rescue mission for a bearskin rug.
My room was a much better option. I’d be left alone and there was a soft bed, which I happily did a flying belly flop on to. After the day I had, some peace and quiet would be nice. I could pretend I was on my own in a little oasis in the pit of hell. That was easier said than done.
The problem with being alone—oasis or not—was that there was nothing to do. There were only so many times one could count the dots on the ceiling before mind-numbing boredom crept in.
I tried everything to entertain myself. Danced around my room, refolded my clothes, and counted all four hundred and sixty-three tiles in my shower. One of which was slightly off in color from the other sandstone ones around it.
Not exactly something I’d expect to find in the Adair household. At least not without a purpose, that is. Like, say, hiding something? I spent God knows how long trying to pry that sucker off, and all I got was a few scrapes on my finger and a chipped nail. That’s when I realized how far I’d sunk.
There I was, looking for secrets hidden in the wall, because why? The man who married my mother sent me to my room? Isn’t that the kind of thing parents were supposed to do? I may not agree with Angus’s chosen punishment, but I couldn’t argue the fact that he was acting like… well… a father.
I didn’t know how to feel about that. Most of the adults in my life didn’t care enough to ask where I was going, let alone lecture me. I was the burden in the house. That I was used to. I could handle it, but this… I’d almost feel better if Angus bitched about the cost of feeding me or something. That was better than whatever the hell this was.
What was this? A ploy or game? That was the only thing that made sense. I may not have much experience in this kind of thing—on a good day, Charmaine could barely take care of herself—but something was definitely off.
Maybe I was the thing that was off?
My parental relationship with Charmaine wasn’t exactly textbook. It wasn’t all bad, though. There were days of normalcy between the hiding and paranoia. Like the time she took me to the beach. That was the last time I remember seeing any clarity in her eyes…
I couldn’t stop staringout at the water lapping up onto the shore. Mom said the ocean was beautiful, but I didn’t expect this. I was so bored on the way here—there wasn’t much to do in a car—but it was worth it.
One thing was for sure: it smelled a lot better than the fish store under our apartment. I hated sleeping there. It was stinky and the kids at school made fun of me, but we didn’t want the bad people finding us. According to our neighbor’s cat, Oliver, scent was the best way to track something.
