Fighting Back (Meet the McIntyres Book 3) by Rebecca Barber

Author:Rebecca Barber [Barber, Rebecca & Barber, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-05T04:00:00+00:00

The sooner I got out of this god damn truck, the better! I was tired. I wanted a shower and something to eat that resembled actual food. It hadn’t been all bad getting away with Dad, but I was more than ready to be home. More surprisingly though was the fact I was also kinda anxious to get back to school. Fucked if I knew where that came from, but I needed to get back. I only had a couple of months to go then I’d be done forever. I already knew I wasn’t going to Uni, so the end was getting closer. The more I thought about it the tighter my chest felt. It wasn’t right. Finishing high school, getting away from all the childish bullshit would be great, but I knew life was about to get harder. Zach and Brian and the gang, while we were all cool now, soon enough we’d would be going weeks and months and in some cases even years without seeing each other. My brothers from another mother would be estranged. It wasn’t something I liked the idea of, not one little bit.

“Thanks for coming with me, Jack,” Dad murmured from behind the wheel.

Looking over at him, I was sad to see how old he was getting. I shouldn’t be moaning about these types of trips. Who knows how many more we’d have together? “It was cool,” I replied honestly.

We turned onto the last stretch of road from our place and I sighed heavily. For a brief second an image popped into my head of walking through the front door, the scent of roast lamb and vegetables hanging in the air only to find Mum had outdone herself and dinner was ready. Yet it was the double decker chocolate cake in the middle of the table that had my mouth watering. Only, I knew it wasn’t going to be a reality. The reality was much bleaker than that. The house would be empty and cold. Dirty socks would still be lying where they were dumped. On the sink, a dirty coffee mug waiting to be washed. The fridge, slowly but surely emptying out. Dad and I weren’t really big on the grocery shopping thing. I guess that was just another thing that would have to change, otherwise we’d be eating tinned spaghetti for the foreseeable future, and I really hated tinned spaghetti.

“Have you heard from Mum at all?” I don’t know why I asked, and the instant I did, I regretted it seeing the way Dad’s face fell.

“Yeah, this morning.”

“And?”

“She’s in Paris. She’s having a great time. Spending a shit load of money.”

It was weird. Dad could have been bitter about it, he could have been angry, either I would understand, yet for some reason he just sounded bored. “Is she coming back?”

“I guess. Eventually.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Jack, I don’t know what your mother wants. She’s happy in Paris. Next week she’s heading to Nice. That’s all I know.”

“Is she at least alone?”

“What are you asking me?” There was some bite to his tone now.

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