Page 100 of Versions Of Us

“Dad,” I call out, my voice quivering. The word still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

He swivels slightly, throwing a glance back at me over his shoulder.

“Let me know how it goes,” I say. “The whole rehab thing, I mean.”

His lips twitch upward in a sad smile, a tiny flicker of light glimmering in his eyes. “I will,” he says before turning in the direction of the lift. “Oh, and Kristen,” he calls back. “That guy you’ve got seems like a real keeper. Don’t let him go.”

I feel a deep crease form between my brows. “What guy?”

“Tall, blonde and handsome,” he replies. “Alex someone or other. He seems worth hanging on to.”

I watch as my father disappears into the elevator, then I enter the apartment, closing the door behind me, more confounded than ever.

How the hell does my father know who Alex Henley is?

I rake my hands through my hair, suddenly unable to keep still. Several moments pass and I start to think I’m going to wear a hole in the carpet the way I’m pacing back and forth, but I can’t help it.

A hurricane of emotions swirl within me, threatening to expel the contents of my stomach. Confusion mostly, as to how my father knows my ex, and fury at Mackenzie, knowing it had to be her that posted those extremely personal letters.

What right did she think she had?

I stop in my tracks as the front door creaks open and Mackenzie shuffles in, her arms weighted by two grocery bags.

“Okay, I got bread, and I picked up some…” her voice trails off when she looks up and sees the enraged expression I don’t even bother trying to disguise. “Ahhh, hey. What’s going on?”

“I think it’s time that we had a talk.” Screw taking the gentle approach. I don’t have the patience for that option anymore.

She blows out a breath as though she knows what’s coming. “What do you want to talk about?”

“How about you tell me?”

“I don’t know…”

“Cut the bullshit, Mackenzie.” My voice is calm, yet I can’t stop my hands from shaking. “When I offered you a place to stay, I thought it went without saying that you didn’t mess with my stuff.”

“If this is about the Doritos, I bought three huge bags and…”

“It’s not about fucking corn chips, Mackenzie!” I shout, losing my cool. “Why did you post the letters?”

The grocery bags slip through her fingers, landing with a thud on the floor where she stands. She’s trying to maintain her tough girl bravado, but her eyes give her away. She’s intimidated by me.

“How did you know about that?”

“Because my father just showed up at the door waving them around.” I flail my own hands about at the risk of looking like an insane person, but I don’t care. I’ve had enough.

“He did?” Mackenzie asks, her eyes wide with shock. “He’s here in Cliff Haven?”

“He was.” I pace another lap of the room. “He said he was just passing through on his way to a rehab clinic.”

“He’s going to rehab?” Mackenzie is taking way too much interest in this aspect of my life, which leads me to the other reason I’m upset.

Mackenzie isn’t who she says she is.

I don’t really know how to broach the subject with her, so I decide to be upfront and ask. I boldly fold my arms across my chest. “Have you been calling me at the helpline?”

She takes a step back, her gaze dropping to the floor. The guilt is written all over her face.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” I ask, my eyes wild with ferocity. “You’re Em.”

---