Page 248 of Heartache Duet

Dad grunts.

Michael chuckles. “Sounds like a decent plan to me.”

“Right?” I like Michael. He’s a good guy, and it’s pretty damn clear that my dad is smitten. And maybe it’s because I’d never actually witnessed Dad in relationships with either gender, but it didn’t take me long to get comfortable with seeing them together. Though, they do keep any displays of physical affection private, so that probably helps.

“Are you expecting someone?” Dad asks when headlights shine through our living room window.

I shake my head. “No. You?”

He shakes his head too.

We both look at Michael. “Nobody even knows me here,” he mumbles.

A car door slams shut, and then another, and I get to my feet, peer out the window. Rhys and Karen are marching up my porch steps. Well, Rhys is marching, and Karen’s running after him. I open the door just as Rhys raises his fist to knock.

“I’m sorry!” Karen rushes out. “He’s drunk, and he got in his stupid car, and I had to follow him to make sure he got here safe, but he’s on a war—”

“You drove drunk?” Dad interrupts.

But Rhys ignores him, too focused on me. Rage forms in his glare as he points a finger at my chest. “You motherfucker!”

“Whoa!” Michael stands. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry,” Karen says again.

But Rhys is too lit, too ready to lay it all out between us. “For years, I’ve stood by her side. I’ve been there for her through everything. Whenever she needed anything, she came to me.”

“This is about Ava?” I ask, confused.

Karen huffs out a breath. “Of course it’s about Ava!”

“And then you fucking come out of nowhere,” Rhys fumes, “and she chooses you! I’ve been on the sidelines waiting for her to—”

I lift a hand between us, shutting him up. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Shut up, Ledger!” he roars. “You go moping around school as if you’ve lost someone you’ve loved for years. You haven’t. I have!”

“Fuck you!” I try to slam the door in his face, but he kicks it back open.

“No, fuck you!” He throws the first punch, getting me square in the jaw.

I hold a hand there, waiting for the pulsing to settle down. But there’s no fight left in me to retaliate.

Rhys squares his shoulders. “Fight me, you pussy!”

I shake my head, adjust my jaw. “No.”

“Rhys, you need to leave!” Dad orders.

But Rhys ignores him and charges at me, his shoulder hitting my stomach until my back lands on the floor. Karen’s screaming; Dad’s yelling. And I try to push Rhys off me, but he’s too fucking outraged, and now we’re rolling on the fucking floor, knocking over the coffee table. Water spills on the carpet, and Michael’s trying to lift Rhys by his waist. Another blow to my gut, and blood pools in my throat, on my tongue. I cough it up, shielding another blow with my forearms.

“She was mine!” Rhys shouts.

“She chose me!” I grunt, finding the strength to throw him off me. I get to my feet, look down at him, wondering where the fuck all this came from. How long has he been hiding these feelings? Through staggered breaths, I yell, “She chose me, okay? And I don’t know why the fuck she did!”

Rhys sits up now, his head tilted back to look up at me.

“Don’t you think I question that every fucking day she’s gone! That maybe I was the reason? That I pushed her to leave?” My chest aches from every physical blow, every verbal admission. “She was fine!” I seethe, my voice cracking with emotion. “When I met her, she was… she was fine, and I—”

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