Page 45 of Rival
“Don’t matter. Got a job,” he calls over his shoulder, leaving me even more confused over why he isn’t laying into me for questioning him. As soon as I step inside the house, I figure out why.
Corbin and Griffin are standing in the kitchen, an empty duffle bag at Corbin’s feet. I desperately want to look at Griffin, but I fight the urge since my father is facing me once more.
“We don’t got much time before we have to hit the road, so I need you to pull out the laundry from the dryer for me. Few changes of clothes, an extra just in case.” He picks up the bag he must be borrowing from Corbin just as Griffin stands up straighter and glares at him.
“Not even a please? Awfully rude there, Clay.”
My eyes widen, andnowI look directly at Griffin, silently screaming at him to stop. I glance at Corbin and he’s looking at his brother, clearly surprised by his scolding.
I can’t see my father’s face, but his back is rigid, and he’s staring hard at Griffin. Spinning around, I decide now isnotthe time to stay and see what happens, but I hear a soft smack, then Corbin’s voice.
“Dude, it’s fine. We gotta get on the road. Help me move shit into your truck while they get shit together.”
“I’m just sayin’ there’s no need to be rude when she’s helpin’ out. You got anything else you’re bringin’ along, Clay? Or just the one bag?”
I make it to the laundry, barely able to hear my father. “Just the one.” He’s pissed, but thankfully I won’t have to bear the brunt of his annoyance at being called out. At least, not tonight anyway.
Folding the clothes as fast as possible, I wonder why they’re loading stuff into Griffin’s truck.Maybe he’s going away with them. But if that were the case, why would my father need to go?Unless the job needs three people instead of two.
Disappointed that it sounds like Griffin’s plan didn’t pan out the way he thought, I’m still looking forward to a night alone. I have no idea how long my father will be gone, but even one night is a blessing.
Setting the stack of clothing on the table, I wait as my father inspects the clothing without a word. The room is filled with tension, and I swallow convulsively, waiting for him to lash out, but again, he keeps himself in check. An uncomfortable, niggling feeling inches its way past my relief that I’m going to get it once he returns home. This whole interaction is out of the norm and I’m not sure how to respond.
He jerkily zips the bag shut and turns to me. Wincing, I look away, not able to stand the amount of rage swimming behind his eyes. He doesn’t have to say anything. The warning he won’t let this go is right there. I just have to wait for it.
The fear emanating from me makes him smirk, and he shoves past me toward the front without any orders or direction about what I should do while he’s gone.
Moving through the living room, I peek through the curtain and watch as the three of them fill Griffin’s truck bed high with boxes, strapping them down so they won’t shift during the drive. My father tosses his bag in the footwell of the passenger seat, then slams the door, waiting on the brothers.
If I listen closely, I can just make out what they’re saying as Corbin and Griffin exchange keys.
“Thanks for letting us use your truck. Mine wouldn’t have made it, plus Jessie needs it for some kid thing this weekend.”
Griffin shrugs and sticks his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “No problem. Not planning on goin’ anywhere, anyway.” Then he asks what I’m dying to know. “You guys back tomorrow or Sunday?”
“Sunday, most likely. I’ll let you know if we’ll get back sooner and bring your truck to you. Let Jessie feed ya. She’ll make way too much food otherwise.” He snickers and slaps his brother on the shoulder before heading to the driver’s side.
My eyes follow him and as I shift to glance toward Griffin once more, I stop on my father. He’s staring directly at me. Iimmediately drop the curtain and step away, tangling my fingers together so hard I’m afraid they’re going to break in half.
Two engines start up and I realize I was holding my breath; not entirely certain my father wouldn’t make them wait so he could come back inside. It wouldn’t be fair since I’m not the one who called him out for his bad behavior, and he has no idea that Iwasn’tjust walking through the woods. I’ve done it before when I head toward the back near the ledge.
A sense of injustice fills me, and I swipe away an angry tear in protest.Why should I have to be afraid to walk alone outside?
I don’t pay attention to the truck as it rumbles down the drive and the noise disappears, not until I hear the other engine remaining turn off and a door slam.
Shoot, maybe my fatherisgoing to come back in here!
My eyes fly around the room wildly, trying to find anything to do, so when he walks in he’ll see me already setting myself to task in his absence. The last thing I need is for him to accuse me of being lazy the moment he steps out of the house.
Flying to the kitchen, I wrench the dishwasher open and start unloading them as quickly as possible, so if he does come in here, it’ll look like I’ve already been busy.
The front door opens, then closes, and I hear him heading straight for me. My breathing picks up and my chest is actually rising and falling so rapidly I feel like I’m about to rip my shirt apart from the force. With a trembling hand, I set our few plates in the cabinet.
Hands land on my waist, and I jump, realizing immediately it’snotmy father. He’d never touch me like that or with any kind of softness. Spinning around, my eyes fly up to Griffin’s grinning face.
“So,” he rumbles out, his smile growing even wider. “I might have gotten your daddy out of the house for the weekend. Not sure if you noticed.”
A burst of laughter bubbles out of me, mostly out of nerves.Holy cow, I’m alone in my house with Griffin. Abruptly, my laughter dies off, and those nerves hit me hard.Griffin is alone. With me. In my house.
