His Sweet Revenge

Chapter 4.

GRAYSON

The minute I saw her I knew I was in trouble. It's nice to meet you, I'm Layla. I've tried my hardest to run away as fast and far possible. And yet, she's still the one haunting my dreams.

Nice to see you again. Was it? Or is she just a liar like everybody else?

My Mom always said: "never trust a girl with pretty eyes or she'll break your heart". That was before she died. Before she left me alone in this world with a psychopath serial killer for a father.

"Tomorrow's the engagement party and I wanted to talk to you about some things," Hale says, sitting across from me at the table. I continue to eat my breakfast in silence. I don't do the uncle thing with him. I know what I am to him and he knows it, too. A burden. A nuisance. The son of his sister he couldn't give a fuck about.

"For starters, behave."

"When have I ever misbehaved?" I smirk and it grows when I see the dissatisfaction on his face.

He proceeds to hold up two fingers. "Secondly, no drinking for you. I don't like how you get when you're drunk."

Yeah, that might actually be a good call.

"Is that all, Chief?" I ask before downing the last of my orange juice.

Hale sighs, staring up at the ceiling. "Just don't do anything stupid."

"You think I'd ruin this for you? Like actually?"

He rubs a hand along the stubble on his chin. "I don't really know you, Grayson. I don't know what you're capable of. You never gave me the chance, you never let me in."

I get up to take my dishes to the sink. "Yeah, I'm not doing this right now. Or ever."

"I'm not trying to be your father. Not even close."

I nod. "I know that. The state practically threw me at your doorstep, you really had no choice but to take me."

"Is that really how you feel? Then why didn't I kick you out the moment you turned eighteen? Why are you still here two years later?"

"I don't know," I shrug, leaning into the counter. "Maybe you're trying to resolve some inner conflict and keeping me makes you feel like a good person. A kind of charity in a way."

Hale laughs, slow but genuine. "God, I can never win with you, can I?"

I start washing the dishes I used so that Margaret doesn't have to clean up my mess.

"And one more thing," Hale says, approaching me. I brace myself. "No funny business with Layla."

"Define funny business."

His lips press into a line. "Don't get smart with me. I'll kick your ass if you even so much as think of her in that way."

Too late.

— — —

Layla has been gone the majority of the day, not that I've noticed or wondered where she is or anything. We're all eating dinner in the kitchen when she walks in with a cap over her head.

"Hi," she says, tossing her keys on the counter and I notice how exhausted she sounds.

"Hi, Honey," Margaret smiles. "Do you want me to make you a plate?"

She shakes her head, grabbing a water bottle out of the fridge. "No, thanks, I'm not hungry."

Margaret looks at Macy and unspoken words pass between them.