DECEIT (B723) - Hazel Grace (the reader ebook .txt) 📗

of my peripheral as Wade makes his way to Reagan. She's broken down in tears looking at her brother as her husband cups her face lovingly.

My vision blurs with tears as I stride inside the room, my family safe from harm. I can feel Mills behind me, looking for himself to make sure everyone is secure. His arm wraps around me as he pulls me into his body in silent comfort—for the both of us.

"Consider the debt repaid for my ex-wife," Wade vouches to Marty as Reagan jumps from her chair and into his arms.

I groan at another long story that I'll save for a time when I'm not recovering from a mild heart attack.

"Why didn't you just hit him in the shoulder," Marty carps out through my thoughts. "I had plans for that motherfucker."

A relieved chuckle rumbles in my rib cage as I place the side of my forehead on Mills's chest.

"Geezus Christ," he mutters above me. "Why do we like him so much?"

I shake my head. "No freaking idea…but we do."

Twenty Four Years Ago

The door to our double-wide slams against the hutch that Mom keeps all her glass Precious Moments figures on.

Everything rattles.

Something falls to the floor and shatters into pieces.

Mom is going to be upset. She collects them and only lets Hardy, Scarlett, and I look at them. We’re not allowed to touch.

But she won’t be getting mad at Bubba. She never does.

However, I do.

Every time he shows up with his loud Harley skidding against the dirt and rocks, hints that he’s been drinking.

That we’re in trouble.

“Sharlene!” he roars off the moment his boot connects with our floor. “Where ya at?”

Grabbing Scarlett’s hand, I pull her down to her knees and hover my hands over her ears. “We’re gonna play hide and seek again. Bubba is it. He can’t see you, and you can’t hear him. Get under the bed—” I give her a little shove towards the twin she shares with my brother. “—keep your eyes closed.”

I reach for the headphones on top of the small end table, already connected to a CD player that I stole from Radio Shack last year then I count how lucky I am.

Hardy is staying with a friend tonight.

Every time he and his buddy, Alan, want to sleep over at his house, I let him.

Just for this reason.

“Sharlene! Where’s your ass at?!”

“Your Mariah Carey CD is in here.” I give my sister a playful wink, trying to ignore the fact that a live monster is in our home. “No cheating.”

Scarlett hits me with squinted blue eyes. “Why is he screaming? He doesn’t—” I cover her mouth with my palm and shake my head.

Pushing the headphones over her tiny ears, I place my index finger to my lips, hinting that the game has already started.

“Sharlene!”

Another crashing sound permeates through the air as I watch my little sister crawl the rest of the way under the bed. When she’s safe, I reach for the door and decide that it’s better for me to tell him that Mom isn’t here before he comes into our room.

I don’t like him near Scarlett. Notice how he licks his lips like Sylvester the Cat when he sees Tweety Bird.

As if my sister is something delicious to eat.

Mom also gets angry when he mentions her too, but she doesn’t say it anymore after he slapped her one time, sending her to the floor.

When I get down the hall, Bubba already has a beer in his hand, chugging down the contents like he hasn’t had anything to drink in days. His black leather vest is old and lined with small, faded cracks. It matches his face, the deep wrinkles at the corners of his dark eyes, and the bags that hang under them.

When I step inside the kitchen, his black gaze falls on me, and my heart thuds quickly in my chest.

“Where’s your mama at, boy?” He wipes at his chin with the back of his hand and glowers at me as if I have something to do with her not being here.

I shrug as dismissively as I can. “I dunno. She said she’d be back by dark.”

He jerks his head to the window by our small dining table. “It’s dark now.”

“I know.”

“And she left you with your brother and your sister alone?” He lifts a brow, and it almost hits the black bandana wrapped around his grayish-blonde hair that passes his ears.

“Just me,” I deadpan before his mustache twists, not happy with my answer. It sets a tiny spark of relief in me that I hid Scarlett under their bed.

Bubba grunts, bringing the bottle back to his lips as his other hand begins to undo the belt. I watch him finish off his beer, then suddenly drops it to the floor, letting it break into sharp pieces everywhere.

“Grab me another,” he orders with a snap of his fingers before pulling the brown leather from his pant’s loops.

I don’t move because I don’t trust Bubba. He has a reputation around the trailer park for being what Kyson’s mom calls a loose cannon. I’m not sure what that means, but I know what he’s done. Bubba punched Ky’s ma last week, and my best friend has a black eye and fat lip from attempting to fight back.

“Now, you little piece of shit,” he roars, jerking his body in my direction like he’s going to come after me but doesn’t.

However, it makes me move towards the fridge anyway, quickly opening the door and seizing a cold Bud Light that Mom keeps just for him and his friends.

I really wish she wouldn’t. Maybe they’d stop coming by.

The moment I turn around, I’m backhanded, stumbling to the kitchen sink as the beer is yanked from my hand.

“Slow bitch,” I hear Bubba say, followed by the cap of the bottle popping.

Reaching for my cheek, which is now throbbing along with my jaw, I move it, making sure that it still works before thinking about a way to get Bubba out