Taking His Rage (Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance) by Gwen Allen

Author:Gwen Allen [Allen, Gwen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dark romance, bad boy romance, billionaire romance, new adult romance, Romance, contemporary romance
Publisher: Gwen Allen
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

~

Julie

I rush away from the house with echoes of my conversation with Vince still on my mind—what he told me about his mother, but also what I said to him toward the end about marrying someone I loved no matter what.

I get in the car, buckle up and turn the ignition. Hearing the comforting, familiar rumble of the old Jeep, I smile wanly. I'm relieved every time my old buddy starts up.

As I pull out of the long driveway and through the wrought iron gate, I think how weird it felt to talk to Vince about love when we are so far from it. I guess one day I'll be with someone who I love and who loves me. But when I'm with Vince, I can't see beyond the man standing right there in front of me, staring at me so intently.

And what I see under all that forceful intensity breaks my heart. His pain is right under the crude, arrogant surface, and it hurts me to see how he tries to bury it under hate and scorn. But he has to be in so much pain after what he saw at such a young age. I can't imagine a more gut-wrenching sight than what he witnessed, and he was just a little boy.

At least now I understand why his father's marriage is so much harder on Vince than it is on me, though my dad's death was more recent than his mom's. It's because I know without a doubt that my mom and dad loved each other and Vince doesn't.

His dad made his mom suffer and Vince blames him for her death. The problem is he loves his dad too. That makes it hard to hate him. But it's easy for him to hate my mom. In his eyes, she's just a stranger, an intruder, and so am I.

As I drive to the library, I think back to the way Vince looked when he saw that butterfly paperweight and the memories came flooding back. At the mere sight of it, it was like a wound had reopened inside him.

There must be so many things in that house that carry the stamp of his past, things his mom touched, things she loved or hated. It's like the house has been booby trapped with Vince's childhood memories, and they are just waiting to rip open old wounds. It doesn't seem to matter if the memories are good or bad. Every memory of his mother hurts him, and it hurts my heart to see him like that.

I have so many happy memories of my dad, but all Vince seems to remember is the mother who died so tragically, not the mother who lived and who must have loved him. I don't want that for Vince. I don't want him to remember his mother only as a troubled woman who killed herself.

She must have been happy once and enjoyed life. She was more than the way she died. But it's not my place to tell him how to feel, not that he would ever listen to me.

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