Chapter 4

Ileft Gina and the ball player at the bar and made my way out front. It was a gorgeous night, and I hadn't been lying when I said I needed to walk. I hadn't realized how much anger I'd been harnessing since arriving to the Cape. I began the trek down the deserted coastal road—probably not my best decision. But then again, coming to the beach, after I'd sworn never to step foot back in the house again, had been even worse.

My mind traveled back to last summer. To the knock on the door. To the twenty-something woman standing there with a five-year-old little girl holding her hand. To the screams of my mother. To the apologies of my father. To the disgust in my mother's eyes. To the slamming of doors. To the tears shed. To the silence in the house for the last month of summer. To the hatred I felt toward my father—the man who single-handedly destroyed our family. To the disappointment I felt toward my mother because she stayed with him.

I wondered all year how many other women he'd been with. How many other children existed because my father had cheated on my mother. I knew I'd never be able to look him in the eyes again and see the man I idolized. I knew I'd never be able to forgive him for the weak man he truly was.

When I left last August, I didn't bother saying goodbye, but it had been goodbye. At least, I thought it had been. I never planned to be under the same roof as my father again. And, while it might've been unfair, I viewed my mother differently too. How could she ever forgive him? Trust him? Love him?

He'd betrayed her.

He'd betrayed us.

If it were me, I would've left his ass and taken all of his money.

But my mother wasn't me.

Though, her distancing herself from him this summer told me something was going on with her. I hoped she knew that trying to force me to forgive him wouldn't make it better. It wouldn't make all the pain go away. Because, truth be told, I had no desire to forgive him. I hoped she divorced him. It was for the best.

When I reached the house, it was shrouded in darkness. I walked around to the back patio door. I slipped inside and crept upstairs, not wanting to run into my father. I twisted the knob on my door and slipped inside my room, closing the door behind me. Shit! I wasn't staying in my room. I began to twist the doorknob to leave but stopped.

Crew wasn't back yet.

And, this was my room.

I stripped out of my shorts, staying in my T-shirt and panties. I peeled back the comforter on my bed and slipped under the sheets. I fluffed the pillow under my head and turned onto my side toward the French doors. With the curtains open, I could see the stars filling the night sky. My heavy lids told me the stars would be the last thing I saw before exhaustion mixed with the liquor I'd consumed pulled me under.

* * *

In my dream, I was a little girl again. Splashing water as I ran, trying to avoid the waves. Laughing uncontrollably. Thrust into the air in my father's arms. The sunlight shined on my sun-kissed cheeks. Seagulls squawked, soaring overhead. Life couldn't get any sweeter. I loved when he had a day off from baseball because he could stay with us all day and night. He spun me around, and I spread my arms, flying like one of the seagulls.

Footsteps in the hallway pulled me from my dream.

Though I didn't face the door, I heard the knob rattle and the door open. I lay still, waiting for Crew to notice me there. He'd be pissed, but he'd turn around and head to the guest room where he belonged.

I waited.

His feet shuffled then the door closed.

I stifled a smile. I'd won.

"So that we're clear," he said, his deep voice startling me still. "I'm not leaving."

I didn't say anything, but I could hear him shucking off his shoes and shedding his clothes. He walked toward the bed and then pulled back the comforter and sheet.

Shit.

Was he looking at me? My panties left little to the imagination.

He slipped underneath the sheets, and with both of us in the bed there was little room to move. He turned onto his side, but I wasn't sure which way he turned until he spoke and it wasn't directly in my ear. "I know you're awake."

I didn't respond.

"This is the room I was given, and it's the room I'm staying in. So, we can keep on playing this little who-gets-to-the-room-first game, but I'm not going anywhere."

"I could lock the door," I finally said.

"Are you five?" he countered.

Asshole.

"If your father finds you in here, I'm telling him you snuck in and tried to sleep with me."

"Or, I could tell him you gave up the room only to slip in during the middle of the night to sleep with me."

"Like that would ever happen."

I resisted the urge to use my nails. "Yeah, I'm definitely not the slutty type you're into."

He scoffed.

"And consider yourself warned. If your hand crosses the middle of the bed, I will use my knee where it'll hurt." He didn't bother responding, and I didn't give him the satisfaction of another word. I was holding my own and not budging. I wondered how long I could go without moving. Could I lay this still all night? Could he? That was the last thought that crossed my mind before sleep pulled me back under.