Page 31 of Wild Hearts

He clears his throat. “It’s just going to be small, with immediate family and close friends. We’d really like you to be a part of it – for Theo. We’d like you to be godparents along with Tarshia’s brother.”

I finally explode. “You can’t be fucking serious? You want us to fucking stand up next to you and celebrate being a family after you walked out on us? Are you insane?” I don’t even realise I’m shaking until Ivy stands up, planting her hand on my chest.

Dad realises his disadvantage in his seated position, and he stands up. “Keep your voice down,” he hisses, his face turning a dark shade of red as he glances in the direction of the hallway. “I thought you could discuss this rationally, but clearly I was wrong.”

I lower my voice. “You’re unbelievable. C’mon Ivy. Let’s go.”

“Can we have time to think about it?” she asks.

My mouth drops open as I turn to my sister. “What?! You’re not serious?”

She ignores me, her eyes not leaving Dad’s. “You’ve just dropped this on us, and it’s a lot. You need to give us time. You can’t expect our answer tonight.”

He opens his mouth, but I speak before he can.

“He’s already got my answer. No. No fucking way. I want nothing to do with you.” My last sentence is directed straight at him, and he hangs his head, but I have absolutely no sympathy for him. He made his bed, he can fucking lay in it. I walk toward the door, shooting Ivy a pointed look. “I’m leaving. You can either come with me, or you can stay here and play make-believe withthembut I’m not listening to anymore of his bullshit.”

“Brady, don’t walk away,” he calls out after me.

“You taught me how.” My hand is on the door handle now. Ivy mutters a curse and I hear her say something to him as I step out of the house and into the still summer night. I’m tempted to slam the door, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of saying I acted like a petulant child, so I softly pull it closed behind me. I’m halfway down the steps before Ivy catches up to me.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Brady

“WERE YOU REALLY GOINGto leave me here?” Ivy asks, but her voice is quiet and contemplative, not angry. I was halfway down the stairs when she caught up to me.

“No,” I mutter, but I’m not entirely sure that I’m telling the truth.

“Are you okay?”

“No.” I climb into the driver’s side, pulling the door shut behind me. I rest my head on the steering wheel, squeezing my eyes shut. I have a killer headache. I take a couple of deep breathers to ease the tension, and once I’m sure my head is not going to combust, I look over at my sister. She’s sitting in the passenger seat, staring silently at the arch windows. “Are you?”

A single tear rolls down her cheek, and she reaches up to brush it away. “I don’t know.”

I slam my hands on the wheel. “He’s such an asshole.”

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