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Chapter Nine

Fallon opened therefrigerator and took out the hazelnut creamer, pouring it into her freshly brewed cup of coffee. She stirred it three times, took a big sip, and padded over to the kitchen table. Hazelnut creamer—the extra creamy one—was her guilty indulgence; it made her feel like she was in a Paris café, away from all the bullshit in her life. Sometimes when things got to be too much, she’d come down in the middle of the night, fix a cup of coffee with her favorite creamer, and drink it in the silence and darkness of the kitchen. The quiet was her refuge, but her world was full of noise and meanness.Why do people want to hurt others?It was a question she’d been asking for as long as she could remember. Her father was mean and hurt her mother, driving her away from them, and then he turned his anger on her.

Fallon sighed, then took another sip of coffee. She looked again at the text Diablo had sent her the night before about the sunset. When she’d received it, she dashed upstairs to her room and climbed out the window, watching the fiery sun make its descent over the mountain peaks. Warmth spread through her as she watched the last wisps of daylight disappear, knowinghewas watching it too.

Diablo looked so fierce, yet he was so nice to her. By the way he looked, she never would’ve imagined he’d be so kind. And he did something to her; he gave her a quiet confidence, made her want to trust him, made her insides quiver in a good way. She hadn’t trusted a man since James Thornhill pushed himself on her, pretending to like her when they were juniors in high school. She’d lost her virginity to him, thinking they were a couple, only to overhear all the whispers circulating around the school after they’d done it under the full moon on a blanket spread over the grassy part of Chacon National Park. She’d been nervous the park ranger would find them and tell her dad, but she pretended to like it even though it hurt and was all over in less than fifteen minutes. She’d figured she’d get used to it, chalking it up to her nervousness about her dad finding out. James had told her it was good as he’d rolled off her, but when she’d tried to cuddle next to him, he’d pushed her off and told her he had to get back home. He hadn’t called her for the rest of the weekend, and when he’d ignored her that Monday morning in the school halls, her stomach had twisted and lurched. He’d used her. And when he’d finally spoken to her a few weeks later, he’d basically told her that he’d figured she’d be easy because she was a cripple. That’s what he called her—a cripple. The memory of his words still stung even though five years had passed.

Diablo didn’t strike her as a guy who’d do that to a woman, but she couldn’t be sure. A part of her wanted to get to know him better, but a larger part was terrified. For most of her life she’d been sheltered and invisible, and there was definitely comfort in that existence. A part of her wanted to break away andlive, but fear of the unknown strangled and held her back. She wanted to text him back, but she couldn’t.

“Did you finish ironing the napkins for Thursday’s luncheon?” Shanna’s nasally voice grated on her nerves.

Fallon nodded and finished her coffee. She rinsed the cup and placed it in the dishwasher.

“Did you take your time polishing the silver? Last time you didn’t do such a good job.”

Fallon gritted her teeth. “If you don’t like the way I do it, maybe you should do it the way you want it.”

“Quit giving me sass! You know that shit ruins my nails.”

“Well, I’m allergic to it and that doesn’t seem to matter.” She walked out of the kitchen.

“I’m trying to be nice here, Fallon. Don’t piss me off. I’m nervous enough about having them society ladies over on Thursday for lunch. I don’t need your attitude on top of it.”

“Are you giving Shanna a hard time?” her father’s voice boomed from the living room.

“She’s just being her same ol’ selfish self, Charlie. Maybe you can remind her how important the day after tomorrow is for me.” Shanna’s heels clacked on the marble as she walked into the living room.

“Fallon, come in here,” Charlie said.

She took a few deep breaths, then stood at the entrance of the room. “What?”

“You know this luncheon is very important to your stepmother. She’s worked very hard to get into these ladies’ social circle. She’s helping them with their big fundraiser, and all she’s asking is for you to be cooperative. You’re acting like a selfish child right now.”

Fallon stared at her father as he lectured her, despising the smug look spreading across Shanna’s face as she practically sat on his lap. Her dad looked like he could be Shanna’s father.He looks ridiculous. I have to get away from them.

“Are you listening to me?” Charlie’s stern voice brought her back. She nodded.

“And remind her that I don’t want her around on Thursday. I don’t need the women focusing onher.”

“And where am I supposed to go for the day?” Fallon placed her hands on her hips.

Shanna shrugged. “I don’t know or care. Go to the warehouse or shopping. I’m sure Charlie will give you his credit card.” She placed a kiss on his cheek and he smiled. “The point is I don’t want you around.”

Heat flushed through her body as she tensed. Lifting her chin up, she said, “You know, Shanna, I don’t give a fuck what you want. But you don’t have to worry about me hanging around for your kiss-ass fest because I always want to spend as little time as possible in your presence.”

Shanna’s jaw dropped and Charlie stared at Fallon. Satisfaction coursed through her.

Then anger mottled Shanna’s face. “Are you gonna let the little bitch talk to me that way?” she asked Charlie.

“No. I’m not.” Charlie’s nostrils flared. “How dare you talk to my wife like that, you ungrateful shit. Apologize to her. Right the fuck now!”

Her stomach rolled over and she bit her lip; her father’s anger always triggered her instinct to flee. Normally, she’d hang her head and mumble an apology to Shanna, then trudge up to her room, lock her door, and fling herself on her bed, or go out on the roof and cry. And even though she wanted to resort to her routine, something kept her mute and rooted.

Charlie gently slid Shanna off his lap. “If I have to come get you, I promise you’ll be sorry.”

Images of her father beating her with his belt flashed through her mind. It’d been a long time since he’d beaten her, but he hadn’t given up the occasional slap across her face, punch to her arm, or yank of her hair.I should just say I’m sorry and go upstairs.“I do want to say something to Shanna.”

Charlie leaned back against the cushion, his arm circling Shanna’s waist as her eyes shone like a lion watching its prey. “Go ahead,” he said.