Page 53 of Haunted Nights & Savage Sins
She rights herself, a frown taking the place of the confusion. “What is your problem? What are you hiding up here?” she shouts back at me.
“What I’m hiding is not your fucking concern. You don’t belong here. Get out.”
“No. Not until?—”
I cut off her words, my hand wrapping around her neck as I push her back against the soot-filled wall. A dark cloud puffs out from the wall, and dirt rains down on her. “Brenna, you don’t seem to be getting it. Maybe I’ve been too soft on you, letting you run around like you’re in charge around here. You’re not. This is your final warning. Get out of here and don’t fucking come back. I don’t want to see your face.” I loosen my grip on her throat. “Leave... now.” The words are low and dangerous. She’s pushing too far.
Too much, too fast.
Her eyes are wide with fear. She is catching a glimpse of the monster she thought she’d tamed. She trembles as she slides past me and runs down the stairs and out of this cursed space.
The minute the door slams behind her, regret quickly takes the place of the rage. What the hell did I just do?
I look up at my mother’s forever smiling face. How I wish she was here to tell me the right thing. How I wish I could go back in time and tell her not to fight my father trying to save me.
I can’t change the past, no matter how much I want to. This is what I am.
Turning, I find one of the few mirrors I didn’t throw away. It’s covered by a thick sheet. I quickly tug the sheet away and stare at the man in the reflection.
Brenna may have tried to convince me that I’m not just this scar, and maybe I’m not, but there’s no way she can convince me that the man staring back at me in that mirror isn’t a monster.
14
BRENNA
It’s beentwo days since the mystery guest showed up and left Cormac in a pissed off mood.
Every defiant part of me wants to stay mad at him for how he acted and treated me, but I have to accept my part in all of this.
He warned me several times about going up to that part of the house. There is something about that place that is important to him. I’m sure it’s not in a good way based on the smell of old fire and the burnt walls.
I’m assuming it was in that area of the house that Cormac was scarred. It must carry great weight if he is still keeping it preserved.
The smart part of me wants to just ignore that part of the house completely, but the defiant, curious part wants to get more information. Wants to see exactly what he’s hiding up there.
I’ll have to find a way to sneak in if he doesn’t let up on his rules about it soon.
That’s for another day though.
Today I’m going to have to find a way to get back on good terms with Cormac. I’ve lived with just my own thoughts for too long.
He was wrong to put his hands on me, but over the past two days he’s been making attempts to make up for it.
All the lights in the house have been fixed. There have been several walks out in the backyard. He even had the hedges in the back replaced and a small sitting space put in so I could sit out there when I wanted. He made me promise that I wouldn’t try to go past the hedges but allowed me to leave the house when I pleased.
It’s a small reward but a big step for him.
Honestly, I’m just tired of being angry all the time. He’s not a bad man, no matter how much he tries to convince himself he is. He’s in a bad family, in a bad situation, but there’s good lurking in there.
Besides, I have to play the part as the All-American wife today since the roofing crew is coming to check things out. I already know Cormac isn’t comfortable with the situation, and I don’t want him lashing out at any of them.
I put on a pair of jeans and a large shirt just in case I have to get dirty.
Cormac is hidden away in his parlor while I walk the house, taking another mental note of all the places that I can see that need to be fixed and the ones he told me about.
I rush to join Cormac in the parlor when I hear the in-house line ring. Cormac sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, tension leaking off his body.
I’m actually really proud that he’s allowing this to be done. If it weren’t for my persistence, I’m sure he’d have stayed with the roof all torn up until it crumbled around his head.
