Mom stops me and places a hand on my cheek. “Are you okay? You look tired, sweetheart.”
I pull away from her touch. “I’m fine.”
I hate when people touch me. Mom knows this.
Her lips press together and she turns away, shaking her head when she reaches Blaise’s dad. He glares over at me, like I’m some sort of problem, and whispers something back to her.
Why do I put up with this shit?
I’m twenty. I’m old enough to move out and live my life.
But then I’d have no money, and I’m nearly done with college. So fucking close, and I can get the fuck away from here for good and not feel like I’m a delinquent or a burden.
“You’re not fine,” Blaise mutters under his breath as Mia grabs her bags. “Walls, Cole. You need to bring them down.”
“And you need to mind your fucking business.”
His gaze searches me, his brows furrowing at my snappy tone, before he too, shakes his head and walks away from me.
Mia grins at him at the entrance to the home I hate, and I turn away when he leans down to kiss her.
There’s a gasp as soon as I walk through the door. Mom is covering her mouth and Blaise is dropping his bag on the floor and pushing Mia behind him.
Everything is destroyed. As if someone barged in here with bats and wrecked it all. The sofa looks like it’s been ripped with a blade, and there’re gashes down all the walls.
I frown and walk farther in, dodging Mom trying to grab my arm.
“Call the cops,” I hear my stepdad say.
“Who would do this?” Mom cries.
Their voices fade as I make my way through the debris, seeing the kitchen demolished, the hallway splashed with red paint. Mom’s nurse bag is emptied on the dining table, her pills crushed.
I take two steps at a time, stopping at the top when I see it’s untouched up here. The rooms are fine. My room is fine. Only downstairs.
I hurry back down when I hear my mom sobbing, Blaise’s dad on the phone to someone, and his insufferable son is still protecting Mia like someone is going to jump out and shoot at us.
“The house is clear upstairs.”
“Do you think it was Malcolm?” Mom asks, mascara down her eyes, then she gasps again and rushes to the back window. “The family portraits are burned in the yard!”
Blaise sighs with a low chuckle. “This is messy.”
My head snaps to him. “Do you think this is fucking funny?”
“Don’t you two dare start arguing right now,” Blaise’s dad warns. “I don’t think it was Malcolm.”
Swallowing, my eyes are on my mom as she worries her bottom lip and looks around the destroyed room. “Can you think of anyone else who would do this?” she asks.
“I broke up with Allie,” I tell her, shrugging. “She might’ve went crazy and?—”
“I thought you said she had to go home for college assignments?” she interrupts, her brows knitting together. “You broke up with Allie?”
I stare at her, knowing she’s just caught me out on a lie. But then I remember I’m fucking twenty and don’t need to be schooled like a goddamn teenager.
“We weren’t getting along. You can’t force me to stay in a relationship with her, Mom.”
Blaise’s dad tuts and shakes his head. “Typical. Are you even surprised, Rachel?”
