Mason didn’t come here to prove anything.
He came here to punish himself and wanted Harper to see it because that was redemption for him. He wanted to suffer as much as she did.
“Look at her,” I said to Mason while nodding at Harper. “How often do you think her father made her shake like that?”
Guilt washed over his face.
“Don’t pull her out of the fire just to throw her back in it.”
Mason’s arms shot out and wrapped around his girl. “I’m sorry, Baby.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered and snuggled into his chest.
No, it wasn’t, but Mason would get there. As much as he annoyed me, he was still one of my boys, and I’d help him get to where he needed to be, just like I helped Parker.
My attention returned to my brother. His fists were raining down on what was left of some guy’s face. Every strike sent a sickening squelch through the room. Mason was too busy sucking up to Harper to notice the destruction, but Silas did.
His lips twisted up in a grimace. “What’s up with him?”
“He’s good.”
My baby brother had finally stopped running from his true nature.
“Don’t even think about it,” I said. True torture was being tied to a chair with bungee cords while playing the Game of Life with Ava and Dean Whitley. “I don’t need any more kids.”
“Yes, you do.” Ava held up a tiny pink peg. “You need another girl.”
“I already have three!”
“But you have four boys.” Ava pointed to my little blue car on the game board.
And whose fault was that? I sure as hell wasn’t the one piling crotch gremlins into my plastic car. I couldn’t even spin the damn wheel—stupid Whitleys and their knot skills.
“There,” Ava sang while placing the peg between two others. “That’s perfect.”
The pile of pegs placed in my game piece was hardly perfect. There weren’t enough holes to put them in. Not that I could pick them up when they fell out because I couldn’t move my hands. I tried. God, I wanted to slap that happy-go-lucky smile off Dean’s face.
My jaw clenched as Dean reached out to spin the dial. The real kick to the gut came when he picked up a card that said, ‘Grab another child.’
Ava slapped the peg out of his hand because he already had three. Why the hell was he being denied children when I had a frigging baseball team? That wasn’t fair.
That was when it hit me. I’d fallen far, far down the rabbit hole. My first concern should’ve been escaping this madhouse, not being pissed off because I couldn’t move my own game piece.
Was crazy contagious?
The evidence pointed that way.
“Ava, honey, don’t pout.” Dean looked at his daughter, who had her lips pursed and arms crossed.
Why had her mood shifted so fast?
Who knew?
The first ten minutes after Preston left, her emotions switched like a kid flipping through the pages of a book. Ava Whitley was always off, but she still had her lucid moments. However, lately, that switch between sane and insane was constantly flicking. I didn’t know what had changed. I also didn’t understand why she wasn’t locked up. If she kept going like this, there wouldn’t be a choice. It was kind of sad to see.
I remembered her as a kid before all the bad stuff happened. She was always smiling. Ava never treated other kids differently because she was happy to have playmates, and whenever we played house, it was Ava who taught us the rules.
Then she was broken.
