This was what people did to each other.
The walk home did little to soothe the throbbing at my temples, and the constant flashes of images flipping through my memory only fueled all those emotions. I was a mess by the time I opened the front door, dropping my bag in the entryway.
From the sounds coming down the hall, Angie and Steven were back from their trip. I wandered into the house and swore, seeing the dining room table set for dinner. The scent of savory spices and fresh-baked bread wafted from the kitchen.
Fuck.
Sunday dinner.
I’d completely forgotten.
Mom stopped fussing with the tablecloth and glanced at me. A smile broke over her face. “Oh, good, honey. You’re home. Did you have fun at your friend’s?”
“It was fine,” I said, sounding anything but happy. “I’m exhausted, Mom. Is all of this necessary?”
The smile on her face faltered. Dressed elegantly in black slacks and a sheer blouse with little black flowers embroidered on it, she looked like the picture-perfect upper Elmwood housewife. “Yes. You promised, Josie. We need this. It is time this family started to act like a family.”
“Do I have time to shower and change?”
Her smile brightened once again, pleased that I wasn’t going to fight her on the matter. I was too emotionally exhausted to go a round with her. “Of course, that would be splendid. Dinner is served in an hour.”
“Fine,” I huffed, dragging myself upstairs.
Carter found me as I was about to enter my bedroom. “Where were you all weekend?” He looked better. The bruises were healing, the deep coloring lightening, but I could see on his features that his ribs were still bothering him and walking around took a toll on him.
“None of your business.” My hand reached for the doorknob, but Carter, despite his injured ribs, moved faster than I anticipated.
His hand slammed onto the doorway, blocking me from entering my room.
I turned slightly to the side, glowering at him. “Carter, I’m not in the fucking mood. Back off, or I swear I will punch you in the ribs.” The idea of causing him pain was appealing.
“You were with Brock, weren’t you?” His blue eyes were flecked with disgust as they ran over me. “You fucked him, didn’t you?” Carter sneered. “What, he is good enough to have between your legs, but I’m not?”
“You make me sick,” I spat, elbowing him. He had been warned. I didn’t hit him hard enough to do any further damage to his ribs, but enough to grab his attention.
He groaned, doubling over as he clutched his side, calling me a string of vile names I’d heard too many times from his lips.
With his hand no longer barricading the entrance to my bedroom, I rushed through, slamming the door in his face and quickly flipping the lock. My pulse raced, and I backed away, giving myself a moment to calm down. The back of my knees hit my bed, and I sat down, waiting for Carter to leave before I took that shower.
No way in hell was I going to get caught naked around him. And the prospect of a shower was both terrifying and necessary. My encounter with Carter left me feeling dirty, and despite my fear he would break into my room while I washed my hair, I had to scrub the stain of his words, of his eyes off me.
I’d been home for not even five minutes, and I already wished I was back at Brock’s. His betrayal was preferable to Carter’s evil.
Twenty minutes later, I stood in the shower, the bathroom door locked securely, along with every door and window in my room. I washed my hair twice and my body numerous times, but it was the tears tracking down my cheeks that I couldn’t seem to wash away. By the time I stepped out of the shower, my mental health was questionable, and I still had to make it through dinner.
I was the last one to show up to the table. It was a joke. The whole thing.
And the entire time I sat across from Carter, he watched me with that twisted smirk of his, making obscene gestures with his food or his fingers at me. I thought about hurling my drink in his face, or better yet, stabbing him with my knife. I’d love to chop off his dick.
Wow. Wouldn’t that have been an interesting way to end dinner?
The idea made me giggle out loud, drawing everyone’s eyes.Holy crap. I’m losing it.
Stirring my fork in my mashed potatoes, I pretended as if nothing had happened and scooped a pile into my mouth, covering up the smile that still tugged at my lips.
Angie and Steven monopolized the conversation with talk of their trip. Carter and Steven went on a football tangent, which was like speaking Greek to me. Steven asked Carter and me what we did all weekend, and my prick of stepbrother smirked at me.
“Okay. I can’t lie anymore. I’m sorry, Josie,” Carter started, the concerned expression on his face worthy of a Golden Globe performance. “But this is for your own good. It’s dangerous for you to be hanging around them.”