Where Souls Spoil (Bayonet Scars Series, Volume I) (Bayonet Scars #1-4.5)

Apparently I was suffering from a bad case of self-doubt, which she drilled into me was only going to serve to hurt my relationship. While Dad never opted to say it to me himself, I’ve overheard him telling Holly that he agrees with her. That was kind of big, because until I had heard Dad admitting he was worried I was going to sabotage my relationship, I was convinced he would’ve been excited if Jeremy and I would break up.

But that was a few weeks ago, and ever since then, our relationship has been nothing but perfect. I know perfect won’t last, because everybody keeps reminding me the first love is fleeting. Eventually our relationship will have to evolve, or it will end.

Their words, not mine.

A firm thud sounds against my bedroom door followed by Grandma’s soft voice. “Knock, knock.” As always, she doesn’t wait for permission to enter. She just does. And she has the nerve to talk about Dad’s manners. But I keep that to myself because she’s been MIA lately, and any time I can score with her—and maybe some of her bomb-ass snickerdoodle cookies—the better.

Shifting on my bed, I turn to the door and raise an eyebrow in question. She stands with her hand on the doorknob and mimics my look with her own raised brow. “Well, well, well,” I say. “Funny seeing you here. At home. Where you left me. With Dad. And Holly.”

“Is this your mature way of saying you’ve missed me?” she asks. I check out her outfit and roll my eyes. She has some kind of glitter-glue thing going on that matches on both her jeans and her button-up. It’s all silver and hot pink swirls and flowers and crap that I wouldn’t be caught dead in. I fucking hate puff paint with a passion—and I hate it even more that Holly got her a new set of paints for Christmas. It’s like they’re trying to kill me.

“Well, like I said, you left me here with Dad. I mean, what did I do to deserve that?”

She crosses the room and takes a seat at the foot of my bed and smirks. “From what I hear? You’ve done plenty to earn a little time under house arrest. Sneaking beer, cutting class, and being a brat to everybody you come into contact with?” She whistles and then grins. “Your father did the same crap. Good job throwing that back at him. It’s about time he got as good as he gave.”

“Thanks. I’ve been working on giving him an ulcer,” I say. “But really, where have you been? You keep disappearing. It’s kind of pissing me off.”

“That’s what I came to talk to you about,” she says. “I love you, baby girl. I do. But I put my life on hold to help your dad raise you. I wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world, but Grandma is done checking homework and grounding your stubborn ass. You’re an adult now, and you have Holly. Lord knows Sterling won’t be letting her go.”

“So you’re ditching me?”

“You’re ditching me, sweetheart. Pretty soon you’ll be off to school in the city.” The mention of culinary school is both exciting and scary. San Francisco is a huge city, and life would just be super different there. I wanted to go when Holly and I first talked about her time living in the city, but now I don’t know.

“It’s not the same,” I whine.

“Okay, real talk?” she asks. I nod my head. “I’m tired of hearing my son talking about having sex on every surface in this house. I don’t care how old he is—it’s not something a mother wants to hear.”

“How do you think I feel? It’s awful! I have to wipe down every surface before I touch it,” I gripe.

“You mean to tell me that you’ve learned how to clean? Well hell, guess it’s not such a tragedy after all. Besides, you’re escaping soon enough,” she says without any sympathy. “Plus, you don’t need me hovering over you all the time. You’re grown.”

“Congratulations, you’re the only person who doesn’t think I need supervision anymore.” My attitude sucks, I know. But I don’t really care. She basically abandoned me with my father. Who does that?

“You are just like your dad. If you two weren’t such a pain in my ass, I’d think it was funny. I love you, and I’m not exactly moving out just yet. But this is your dad and Holly’s house. They need time and space to be a couple, and I just don’t think Holly is ever going to think of it as hers as long as her boyfriend lives with his mom.”

I snort because Grandma has a great way of making Dad sound like a loser. I know I’m hard on him, but I can’t help myself.

“Can you tell Dad that I’m an adult, please?” I ask.

“Baby girl, I’d need to be twenty years younger to have enough time on this earth to convince him that you’re not still five years old. Doesn’t matter how beautiful you are or how mature you get. Your dad is always going to see his little pig-tailed, button-nose brat on her first day of kindergarten.”

“Well, that sucks,” I say. She’s trying to be nice, but I want some alone time with Jeremy, damn it, and she’s not freaking helping.