Page 55 of Deranged (American Street Kings 3)

“What’s the matter?” I asked him. “Why won’t you eat your cake? Is your tummy sore again?”

He didn’t respond. It didn’t even seem like he heard me. All he did was sit there, staring at our mother, his eyes hard and cold. I had never seen him like this, and it scared me a little, killing one excited butterfly after the other.

“Glenn—” I started when the front door opened, voices carried in with the winter chill. “Dad!” I jumped off the chair and rushed to the front door, greeting him with the biggest smile, slapping my arms around his waist as I hugged him. “Dad, you have to taste the cake Mommy baked. It’s the best cake ever.”

He smiled, brushing his hands through my hair. “I’m sure it is. No one bakes a better cake than your mom.”

“Come on.” I grabbed his hand, not the least bit curious about the present Mom said he would bring me. I just wanted him to have a slice of the cake, and maybe then Mom would let me have another one.

“Hold on, sweetheart.” Dad pulled me back to him. “I want you to meet my friend.” I turned, and only then did I notice the man who stood next to him. It was a young man, younger than Dad. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a smile as warm as a summer breeze.

“You must be the birthday girl.” He crouched down. “My name is Jeffrey.”

I tightened my hold on Dad’s hand. “I’m Dahlia.”

“That is such a pretty name.” His dark eyes turned black, and I didn’t like the way he stared at me.

“Jeffrey is here to celebrate with us.” Dad picked me up, and I chuckled. “It’s not every day that my little girl turns ten. Double digits.”

“Why is he here?”

All of us turned toward Glenn, who stood by the entrance to the dining room.

“Like I just said,” Dad replied. “To help celebrate Dahlia’s birthday.”

“That’s not why he’s here, is it?” I noticed his fists balled at his sides, his glare solely focused on Jeffrey.

“Of course it is.”

“No, it’s not.” Glenn’s jaw clenched, his eyebrows knitted together.

Dad put me down before straightening again. “Do not be rude to our guest, son.”

I didn’t like the way Dad’s voice went from warm and welcoming to cold and hard. More butterflies died.

“Come on, Glenn. I think you should go to your room for a bit.” Mom placed her hands on his shoulders, but he jerked away.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Glenn,” she scolded. “You’re embarrassing us. Stop it.”

“No. Why is he here? Why did Dad bring a stranger home? What is he doing here?” he shouted. “He has to leave. This is Dahlia’s birthday. He has to leave!”

Glenn was so angry, and he kept screaming and screaming. Mom tried to reach for his arm when he grabbed the long sleeve of her red dress, tearing it right off.

I gasped. Mom’s pretty red dress was ruined, and her smile was gone.No. No. No. I wanted her to smile again. It was my birthday.Please smile.

“It’s for your medicine, isn’t it?” Glenn threw the torn sleeve to the floor. “He’s here to hurt Dahlia so you can get your medicine. I won’t let you hurt Dahlia. I won’t let you hurt her.” Tears streamed down his face, but his eyes were still hard, jaw still set.

Dad grabbed him, lifting his feet off the ground while Glenn kept kicking and screaming.

“I won’t let you hurt her. You won’t hurt my little sister!”

“Glenn, please.” I started crying. “Stop it!”

I rushed to the corner, all the butterflies gone. Dead. Forgotten.

I closed my eyes, Glenn’s screams mixed with Dad’s curses making my tummy ache.

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