Circle of Lies (Red Ridge Pack) by Sara Dailey & Staci Weber

Author:Sara Dailey & Staci Weber [Dailey, Sara & Weber, Staci]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781938876127
Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group
Published: 2012-12-20T06:00:00+00:00

33.

Teagan

My dad slammed the door behind us and shoved me into the wall. His eyes burned with rage.

“What the hell are you doing?” I screamed.

“What the hell are you doing? Making out with some random boy in our driveway? Right in front of my face? I should have killed that piece of shit for touching you.”

“Get a freakin’ grip,” I sneered. “He would have ripped you to shreds, especially in your condition. Guess AA didn’t work out after all, huh, Dad?”

My father stumbled back a bit, ran shaky fingers through his unwashed hair. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just fine. You’re the one who thinks you can run all over town doing God knows what. You think he’s going to save you, take you away from here and make everything better?”

He paused for a response, but I didn’t give him one. I’d learned a long time ago that it wasn’t worth it.

“He’s just waiting for you to spread your legs. Then he’ll be done with you. Just like that last boyfriend of yours, Adam whatever. You’ll see. But I guess it won’t matter to you. You’ll just find another man, and another, just like that whore mother of yours—”

I slapped him so hard that he stumbled backwards. He reached up to touch his cheek, and something I’d never seen before registered on his face. Fear? Remorse? I didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t the drunken rage to which I’d grown accustomed. Maybe it was simply guilt.

We just stood there, staring into one another’s eyes. When tears threatened, I turned to walk away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me hurt yet again. But before I could escape, Dad grabbed my arm. He was gentle this time.

“Teagan. I’m sorry, baby. Really, I am.” Slowly he let go of my arm, and I didn’t want to look at him but I couldn’t stop myself. A single tear was rolling down his swollen cheek.

I was tired—tired of feeling bad for him, tired of his excuses, tired of it all, and the first of many tears made its way down my own face. “Keep your fucking hands off me. You’re dead to me. Do you hear me, Dad? Dead. To. Me.” Then, without looking back, I stormed off to my room and slammed the door.

I backed up against the wall and slowly slid to the ground, unable to stand any longer. I was done. Done trying to make it work. Done listening to excuse after excuse. I only had a few months until my eighteenth birthday, and after that I was out of here and would never look back.

It took what seemed like hours, but finally I had the energy to move. I lifted what was left of myself off the floor and crawled up into bed. My eyes were a mess from the buckets of tears I’d cried, and I needed sleep, needed this day to end.

Knowing I’d look like hell in the morning, I curled up in a ball and closed my eyes.

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