“Not a single adult in this hellhole has stood up for her. They turned a blind eye to her as these assholes insulted her,shoved her, hit her, and made her feel like shit. All because she’s a girl?”
“Language!”
“Jaxon,” I say, then touch his shoulder.
He whirls toward me, teeth bared, and holds the same bottomless-pit look in his eyes. He sucks in a sharp breath, relaxing when he sees it’s just me, and then his expression softens at whatever he sees on my face.
Jaxon turns to the principal and shoves a finger in my direction while keeping his glare on the older man. “Look what you did. You made her fucking cry!”
“Cry, little sister, and I’ll kill them all for you.”Jaxon’s words rush back to me. It’s what he said when he was pummeling Mickey.
I touch my wet cheek and blink away the tears I didn’t realize were there.
The principal strides around his desk and shoves me out of the way before he grabs Jaxon’s arm. “Listen here, you little shit,” he seethes. “I’m sick of your?—”
“Get your hands off of my son.”
The room goes quiet, and we all turn to the doorway, where our dad stands, taking up the tiny space. He slips his hands into his pocket and cooly settles his gaze on the principal, who still holds Jaxon in a death grip.
“Mr. Evergreen, I’m glad you’re here,” the principal says. He moves away from Jaxon, who shakes him off with a harsh shrug. “Your son got violent earlier and badly hurt another student. I highly recommend you have a little talk with him and let him know that hitting people isn’t okay.”
Dad cocks his head. He doesn’t acknowledge Jaxon—or even me—as he steps further into the office. “I’ll keep that in mind. Are you done with the kids?”
Principal Johnson straightens his jacket and raises his chinto look just as scary as Dad, but he falls short. “Jaxon is suspended for a week.”
My stomach drops. I’m already anxious about being alone in school without Jaxon there. I’ll be left with the sharks who will punish me for my brother’s actions.
“Step outside.” Dad keeps his voice neutral, but a shiver goes down my spine from the undertone of something horrible about to happen.
I back up a step, terrified of what’s coming. Sensing my fear, Jaxon comes to my side, acting as a barrier as we leave the office and stand in the hallway. I turn to him, wanting to thank him and ask why he did what he did, what changed, and so much more. Instead, I stand here. Anger still radiates from him in toxic waves, and instead of asking those questions, I keep my mouth shut.
I notice the change when he looks at me. His expression softens, and the tense lines around his mouth smooth. It confuses me because I want so badly to go into his arms and hug him, but I’m terrified he’ll get angry at me for touching him.
The principal’s door opens, and our dad steps out. “Come, children.”
Jaxon and I share a look before we follow him. Every person we pass ducks out of the way.
“Someone get the first aid kit,” a woman whisper-yells behind us. I peek over my shoulder, finding Barbara rushing out of the principal’s office, frantic and getting the attention of someone out of eyeshot in a cubicle nearby.
I look at Jaxon in shock and find he isn’t in the least bit surprised.
Dad pulls me into his office not long after we get home. He told Dahlia to go to her room. She’s still shaking like a leaf and terrified of being left alone. It takes me mumbling that everything will be okay before she relaxes just a little and goes upstairs to her bedroom.
“Have a seat,” Dad says.
He crosses the spacious room lined with colorful books he’s collected over the years. Some of them are antiques and first editions of classics. He’s never let me read them—not that I’m interested in those types of books. I just want to know what it feels like to touch something that’s been around for a long time.
Dad grabs two chilled glasses from the small fridge at the minibar. Shit. I hate it when he drinks, because he gets meaner and loosened up enough to beat me.
I frown and take a seat across from his desk. This feels similar to going to the principal’s office and having to listen to that ball sack of a human spout stupid shit about why it’s okayto pick on a girl. If my father had arrived three minutes later, I would have shown the principal how much I liked him.
I ball my hands into tight fists, and the familiar weightless feeling of leaving my body before I black out returns. With that comes the memory of Mickey slapping Dahlia and how the brute force of the blow knocked her head forward. He’d intended to hurt her, and now I want to hurt him again.
“I had to call the police station for a favor,” Dad says from behind me at the minibar.
I tense but keep my gaze forward. No point in turning around when he’s just going to sit behind his desk. His footsteps come closer and, just as I expected, he goes around his desk and sits in his squeaky leather chair. He slides a glass filled with an ice cube and amber liquid toward me.
“Since you’re making adult decisions, you might as well lean into it.” He relaxes back in his seat and cradles his cup in his large hand.
