“You know I don’t like this,” Alexan says, frowning at my father’s house. He glances away and looks around the block, searching for threats.
“I know, but it’ll be quick. Brenden needs some stuff from his room and I have a set of lock picks I want you to use hidden under my bed. It’ll just take a minute, okay?”
“I should come with you.”
“Just stay here.” I pat his hand and lean across the car. I kiss him quickly. “I’ll be fine.”
He clearly doesn’t like that, but I don’t give him the chance to argue.
For the past two days, we’ve done nothing but plan. We’ve gone over every inch of that house, from photos taken by Alexan’s crew to the actual blueprints he managed to steal from the city registry. He’s picked a dozen different kinds of locks, and he’s at the point where I’m confident he can handle anything he comes across.
Now it’s just a matter of giving him the right tools.
I head into the house. “Hello? Anyone home?” I hesitate, listening, and my stomach sinks when my father answers.
“Is that you, Riley?” He appears at the top of the steps, frowning down at me. “When you got married, I assumed you wouldn’t show up here much anymore.”
“Nice to see you too.” I head up toward him. “Just need to grab some things.”
He lets me pass without comment. I head into Brenden’s room and gather clothes into a bag. He stands in the doorway and watches, face impassive.
“You know where he is,” Dad finally says.
I pause, hand shoved in the bag, and look over. “Yeah, I know.”
“Tell me.”
“I can’t do that.” I shake my head and finish packing up. When I’m done, I head to the door, but Dad blocks my way. “Excuse me, please.”
“Tell me where my son is, Riley.”
“Brenden’s okay. He’s just hiding out. The less you know, the better.”
Dad’s face cracks. His mask slips, and a contemptuous snarl flits across his expression. “God, you’re so worthless.”
“Excuse me.” I stare at him, heart pattering. “Please.”
He moves aside. I hurry across the hall into my room, locate the picks under my mattress, and put them into the bag.
“I always knew this about you,” Dad continues, following me. “Always just a leech living under my roof. You never did provide a damn thing, did you?”
I take a deep breath. I feel myself withering under his hateful stare. It’s been like this all my life. No matter what I do, this man is able to break me without even having to try.
“You never let me,” I say quietly, staring down at the floor.
“I never what?” He steps closer, his tone sharpening. “What did you just say?”
“You never let me contribute.” I look up at him, hands curled into fists. “I wasn’t allowed to work. I wasn’t allowed to go to college. You never let me contribute.”
He looks like he can’t believe I’m even responding. And honestly, I don’t blame him. I’ve been letting him stomp on my face since the day I was born, and I don’t even know where this is coming from.
But I keep seeing Alexan in my mind. I keep seeing him struggling with that lock but never giving up. And for some reason, a strange, iron strength fills me.
I broke into a Mantis facility. I was nearly killed in the process, but I survived. I’ve done things lately that I never imagined I would, and it’s all because Alexan believes in me.
And if Alexan thinks I’m worthy, then I shouldn’t let a man like my father push me around anymore.
“I gave you everything,” he says, hissing at me. “A roof over your head. Food on your plate. And all you’ve ever done is complain.”
“That isn’t true. I cooked all that food, and I cleaned this stinking place top to bottom. Dad, I was a good gymnast. I was really, really good, and you made me quit so I could sit around here and do nothing. God, you know what’s sick? I thought you were selling me to the Armenians, but now I realize you were freeing me from this fucking prison.”
“Don’t you dare use that tone with me,” he says.
I shove past him before he has a chance to block my exit. I hurry into the hall, heart hammering in my ears as I rush down the steps. He storms after me, his heavy footsteps stomping behind me.
“You don’t get to treat me like shit anymore,” I say, breathless as I stand in front of the door. “You don’t mean anything anymore.”
“You stupid little bitch,” he snaps. “What kind of shit did that husband of yours tell you? I protected you from the world. I made you comfortable. I fucking spoiled you—”
“And belittled me, told me I was worthless, made me feel small. I was your fucking punching bag for years. You wanted me around to make you feel better, but I’m gone now, and I’m not coming back.”
“Yeah, go ahead, run away. Go running to your shitty husband. Let him see how you’re nothing. You’re nothing, Riley!”
“Fuck you, Dad.” I stare at him as a cold certainty rushes through me. “From here on out, act like I’m dead.”
“Happily.”
I turn and leave the house, slamming the door behind me.
Alexan’s out of the car the second I’m down the stoop. He comes rushing over, his face caught between anger and concern. “What happened?” he asks, reaching into his jacket for his gun. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”
“It’s fine,” I say, pushing his hand away from his weapon. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
I grab him and crush my mouth to his. I kiss him hard, sloppy and hungry, and let that kiss linger. He returns it, his hands on my hips.
“It’s just my dad,” I say quietly, leaning against him.
“Not sure I want you talking about your father after kissing me like that.”
I slap him lightly. “He was just being his usual asshole self, but I stood up to him.”
“You did?” He strokes a hand down my back. “Honestly now?”
“I did.” I smile a little. “Told him to fuck off.”
“Really?” He laughs lightly and squeezes me. “I’m proud of you.”
“I meant it too. He’s dead to me.”
“That’s my fucking girl.” He kisses me again, and we head into the car together. He puts his hand on mine as he drives. “I’m proud of you.”
“I’m proud of myself, honestly.” I laugh lightly, feeling giddy and free for the first time in my life. “I’ve never, ever talked to him like that before.”
“He doesn’t matter anymore. If you don’t want him in your life, he’s gone. You know that, right?”
I shift to study my husband. The solid lines of his face. The cold strength in his eyes.
“I know that now,” I say softly. “Because I have a home with you.”
“You’re damn right you do.”
