Jaden (Jaded #3)

“Sheldon,” she murmured.

I lifted a hand, stopping her. I needed to finish, for her and my father. “I won’t sit back and hope things get better. Life doesn’t get better if I do nothing. I’ve learned that the hard way, but it’s my life now. It’s my freedom. My future.” I whipped around, the need for my dad to hear this was urgent in me. I went to him, and Corrigan and Bryce parted for me. I was right in front of him. “If you think I was yelling and cursing in that hotel lobby and that’s all I was doing, you’re an idiot. I was saying ‘fuck you’ to Grace’s murderer. I wanted him to know that I’m not scared and I’m not quaking in my boots. I’m ready to fight and if he won’t come to me, I’m more than ready to go hunt him down instead.” I stopped, my chest was heaving.

Neil held my gaze, studying me intently, and then he let out a soft breath. His head hung down, and he said, “I’m sorry, Sheldon.”

I closed my eyes. Those words hit me like a blast of cold air. I never knew I needed to hear them, but as soon as he uttered those words, a hole inside my chest shrunk a tiny bit. I felt raw. I was dying of thirst, and I had been starving for that message from him for so long. I blinked and stumbled back a step. Someone caught my arm and held me upright.

I had no idea I’d been yearning for those words.

Then I stopped myself, stopped any crumbling I might’ve done. I wasn’t Daddy’s little girl. I never had been, and those two words weren’t about to bring that change for me. My fairytale was the neglected princess who fought for her own survival.

I’d keep surviving. I’d keep fighting. I never needed my dad before, and I sure as hell didn’t need him now.

I turned away and left.

As I passed the hallway leading to the front door, I heard a quiet voice. “Sheldon?”

My feet stopped before I registered a new presence, and I turned, stricken, horrified, and for some reason, glad at the same time.

“Mena?” That couldn’t be right. I blinked, rubbed at my eyes, but it was her.

She held a hand up in a small wave. “Hey . . .” Her tiny smile turned timid and she tucked her hand back to her side, slipping inside a sweatshirt she was wearing. The jet-black hair was gone. She had dyed it blond, but it looked natural. She was still petite. She’d been wearing a tank top, trendy miniskirt, and black boots the first time I met her. Dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt, and sneakers, she barely looked like the same person. “I’m guessing my brother didn’t tell you I was coming?”

“Sheldon?” Corrigan was coming, followed by Bryce, and Denton. The first two slammed to a halt right behind me, riveted by Mena as well.

I waited, holding my breath. Then I heard Corrigan exclaim, “What the hell, Denton?”

“Fuck,” Bryce grunted, raking his hand through his hair. “FUCK!”

Mena frowned at her brother. “You didn’t tell them?”

“Uh . . .” Denton went to her side, facing us, and held his hands out. “Sorry, guys. It . . . this,” he gestured to his sister, “completely slipped my mind with everything going on.”

Mena turned, facing him squarely. She moved her head to the side and her hand came back out from her sweatshirt to land on her hip. “You remembered to tell me.”

He shot her a pointed look. “I know. Thank you.” He looked right at me. “I’m sorry. I really am. She’s going to college here.”

“My college?” Corrigan cursed, starting to pace back and forth behind me. “This fucking sucks!”

Denton ignored him, talking over him, “She’s only here for a while, until she gets on her feet with school. The plan is for her to wait a few months and then find a friend, someone we both trust for her to room with.”

“So, she’s here? For the duration?” Bryce’s tone was sharp. He was sending her a dark look. “How long have you known we’d be here?”

She opened her mouth, but Denton moved in front of her, blocking her from Bryce’s interrogation. He folded his arms over his chest and clipped out, back to him, “You need to back down. Mena’s my sister, and she has more right to be in this house than you do—”

“Exactly my point,” Bryce ground out. He didn’t back down. “Did you know about this before we came here?”

“Yes, but—”

“We shouldn’t have come here.” Bryce reached for my arm and started to push me back to the hallway. “We’re leaving. We’re not safe with her here.”

“Hey! Whoa. Whoa,” Denton called us back. “She’s my sister. I can’t turn her out.”

“No.” Bryce shook his head. “You should’ve turned us out. That’s the whole point. You know how we feel about your sister—”

Mena stepped toward us. “I’m right here.”