Messy Love(83)

I bit my lip and hesitated. While my parents were great at letting me deal with things on my timeframe, if they felt that I was hiding something from them that hurt me, they were like all good parents. They were like hounds that wouldn’t let it go.

“A guy broke my heart,’’ I said in a choked voice that called for sympathy. They immediately gave it to me in the form of a sad smile and warm eyes. “Listen, I want to go home. It’s nothing that time won’t heal. Don’t worry.’’

“Call us if you need us. And if you want to spend some time at home with us, you have your key.’’

“Thank you.’’ I hugged them and right when tears threatened to fall, I escaped from their too comforting embrace and jogged out of the hospital and back to my car.

Breathing choppy and eyes stinging with unshed tears, I blew out air from my lungs, long and slow, pushing out of me the tension that kept on mounting and mounting, pressing down on me. Eyes closed, hands gripping the steering wheel, and head against the headrest, I bit my trembling lower lip. And right when I was about to lose my grip my phone buzzed in my pocket with an incoming text.

“Shit!’’ I cursed and hit the steering wheel with the flat of my hand before I twisted on the seat and got a look on the screen of my phone.



Have you seen Wyatt? I know you two aren’t together anymore, but he’s been avoiding all of us. - Ralph



“What?’’ I whispered in the quiet car. The air was hot even now that the sun was past the horizon. My forehead was coated in sweat, and I cringed when I put my hand there. Worry hit me hard, so damn hard it stole my breath and pushed my heart to beat faster, ignoring the squeeze in there from the pain Wyatt pushed on me. But then, I shook my head and gave a laugh that had nothing to do with joy. It was a dreadful sound that grated on my ears and made me squint at my phone until the screen went dark again.



He threw me out weeks ago. I don’t know what he’s up to, and it’s none of my business. Good luck. - Marissa



I threw the phone in the cup holder and then turned the car on. Anger radiated through me, the kind of anger that came from the intense pain I hadn’t been able to shake off. I was there, turning into a person I didn’t like, either moping around and obsessed with a man that hurt me or now so angry I didn’t care what could happen to him.

He didn’t want me in his life?

That was all right with me. I was out.

Only, I wasn’t completely out of his life since Lydia was his mother and Ava was his sister. That mess linked us together, even now.

My stomach twisted, and at a red light, I pressed my face against the steering wheel.

***





WYATT


I had never felt like everything, my fucking reality, was surreal. I had often thought that the reality around me was a bit too real, mostly when I was fucked with as a kid.

Punches were helluva real when they split your lips, made you taste copper in your mouth from the blood. They were incredibly real when breathing hurt like a bitch from kicks you got in the ribs.

Right that moment with my biological father in my apartment, standing there eyeing every single item in my apartment and stopping on the big flat screen, the Apple TV and the PS4, it was surreal.

I blinked and looked away, my eyes landing on the couch. Cursing quietly, I walked to the couch and dropped my ass on it, making sure to keep my eyes on the man who made me the screwed up individual I was today.

“Nice,’’ he remarked with a dirty chuckle that raised the hair on my arms.

He ran a hand along the dining table. The knuckles looked angry as if he had recently hit something. That wouldn't surprise me. The veins, blue-green under his white skin, stood out and I had no idea why I was stuck on his hands. Maybe it was because I used to always look at his hands when I was a kid, taking stock of where they were at all times to see where and when the hits would be coming. How sad was it to be back to that at my age?

“Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?’’

“I’m your father. I don’t need a reason.’’

“Sorry to disappoint you, but you relinquished your rights years ago. You’re not my father,’’ I lashed out steadily, surprised I could hide the shakings coursing through me, the way my muscles bunched as if getting ready for a fight. Most of all, I was anticipating something, anything that would come next. Survival was in knowing what you had to fight against to keep on standing.

His eyes landed on me again, and he slowly made his way to the armchair and took a seat. His knees cracked, but he let nothing on, nothing but malice in his eyes that burned through me.

“Looks like you should be thanking me.’’

“What?’’

“Adopted at thirteen. Raised like a little prince. In possession of an apartment.’’

“Yeah, maybe I’m not garbage.’’

He squinted at me and then gave me that smirk, that awful smirk I served left and right whenever I kept people at bay, the same one I gave Marissa plenty of times when I first met her. Seeing it on his face, I wanted to disfigure myself and never see my reflection in a mirror again.

“Trying to convince me?’’

“I don’t need your validation,’’ I blurted and clenched my hands into fists on my lap. His eyes followed the movement. Shit, he didn’t miss a single thing.