Page 108 of These Dirty Lies

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Sure, I didn’t have to see her every day. Didn’t have to look into those jade green eyes and see the hatred simmering there, the pain and regret of what could have been. But it didn’t stop my heart from wishing it could be different.

Wishing that I could be the type of guy who could give her everything she deserved, everything her heart desired.

A loud thud from the master bedroom had us both stiffening.

“Relax,” Jessa said, giving me a small smile. “He was in a better mood last night.”

I made some derisive noise. Joe Wilder didn’t have a good mood. He had a bad mood and a downright fucking awful mood.

He appeared down the hall, wearing his trademark white wifebeater and a pair of black sweats. “What’s for breakfast?” he grunted.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

A little bit of puke rushed up my throat as I watched Jessa wrap her arms around him and pepper his harsh face with kisses. He grabbed a handful of her ass, nuzzling her neck. “Now feed me, woman.” He slapped it for good measure and joined me at the breakfast counter.

“What the fuck is up with you?” he mumbled, accepting a fresh mug of coffee from Jessa.

“Nothing.”

“Harleigh’s back.”

My eyes flew to Jessa. What the fuck?

Her expression softened. Sorry.

Yeah, sorry my ass. I loved Jessa like a mom but sometimes she was really fucking dense.

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred fucking times. No piece of ass is worth it.”

“Joe,” Jessa gasped, her expression wounded.

“You’re different, baby” he said dismissively. “But girls like Harleigh Wren don’t belong in a place like The Row. If you ask me, it was a blessing in disguise when her momma offed herself and—”

My fist crashed against the counter, pure rage shooting up my spine. “What the fuck did you say?”

He turned an unimpressed eye on me. “You heard me, kid. Trina Maguire checked out of life a long fucking time ago. She did everyone a favor, including Harl—”

Red exploded in my vision as I lunged for him, and we went down in a tangle of limbs and grunts.

“Don’t. Please don’t,” Jessa yelled as I took a swing at my father, a man I hated more than life itself.

He was everything wrong with this fucking world. Selfish. Dirty. Always willing to screw people over. I’d stood by and watched him hurt Jessa time and time again. I had my own canvas of scars littering my body thanks to his preferred form of parental punishment. But hearing him talk shit about Harleigh and her mom… I couldn’t do it.

“Don’t ever fucking say—”

He bucked me off him, rolling us, and pinning me underneath him. His arm pressed tight against my throat, cutting off my air supply. My body trembled with anger, refusing to submit as I thrashed against him.

“Such a hot-tempered little shit.” Spittle rained down on me, making bile wash in my stomach, and there wasn’t an inch of me that didn’t shake with visceral rage. But my old man was stacked and when his temper exploded, he was damn strong.

“Maybe I should really teach you a lesson if you think you can play with the big boys now.” His lip curled with vicious intent. “Vince told me what you did, ya know? Told me how you stood up for Jessa. Always so fucking righteous.”

He loosened his arm and I dragged in a deep breath, hating how he reduced me to… to this. Weak. Powerless. Completely at his mercy. “At least I tried to protect her,” I snarled. “Where were you, huh, when he was here, raping—”

“Nix!” Jessa’s voice broke, her sobs filling the trailer. And for a second, something like guilt flashed over my old man’s face. He staggered off me and clambered to his feet.

“Jessa, baby.” He went to her, but she shoved him off, rushing down the hall and into their bedroom. The door slammed behind her, echoing through my skull.

“Fuck… fuck.” My father hissed, punching the flimsy wall.


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