Chapter 3
Wynter
“Wynter! Open up!”
Fuck, that’s loud. My head pounds, and my stomach rolls as I reach for my covers.
“Go away! I’m sleeping.” It’s too much movement for my throbbing head, but then comes another knock. Shouldn’t Martin be at work? It’s almost two in the afternoon.
“Wynter!”
That doesn’t sound like my stepfather. It sounds like Vale, but my ears are clogged so I’m probably hearing wrong.
“You’ve got three seconds to open up, sis, or I’m busting the thing down.” It is Vale. Fuck. What the hell is he doing here?
Another pound and I have no choice but to drag myself out of bed, feeling my head spin as I stand.
“Three, two…”
“All right. All right.” My voice sounds like a croaking frog with a smoker’s cough. All I want is for the pounding to stop. For the knocking to stop resonating inside my skull.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, leaning on the door for support as I open it. I lose my balance as it slides farther across the carpet. It’s a struggle to get it steady.
“Shit. Are you still drunk?”
Maybe. All I know is I’m exhausted and he’s compounding my hangover with a strong dose of his frustration. Of all the days he decided to stop by, it had to be today. I haven’t seen or heard from him in forever. He’s been too busy being a criminal for that Savage gang he runs with now.
“I’m fine.” I try to pry my eyes open. They’re so heavy, and it’s way too bright. I feel like I need sunglasses. “What do you want?”
As soon as I get my eyes open, I want to run and duck for cover back in my bed.
I’m too hungover to deal with the onslaught of judgment burning in his eyes as he looks at me.
I’m sure I look like death warmed over. I probably smell like it too.
I sniff my hair, and the strands smell like stale beer.
Gross. I need a shower. But sleep first. Lots and lots of sleep.
He shoves past my door, stalking right in with his huge frame. Invading my space. I hobble around him, climbing back in bed and under the covers. I’m not sure why he’s here, but he can leave now.
“Need you to tell me what’s going on with you, sis.”
I peek out from under my comforter and see him staring.
He’s probably counting how many bags I have under each of my eyes.
I’m a mess, and he looks unnervingly good.
He usually doesn’t wear his leather cut when he comes to visit.
I don’t think he likes to remind his dad that he’s a one-percenter and runs around with a bunch of criminals.
My mom likes to call my friends lowlifes, but at least they don’t kill people.
I’ve heard the rumors about the Savage Knights, and I’m sure our parents have too.
“Are you going to answer me?”
I was hoping that he’d disappear, but unfortunately, he’s still here, looking even more frustrated.
“I was out late drinking. Nothing’s going on.”
“What about your classes?”
“They’re recorded. I can watch them whenever I want.”
“It sounds like you’ve been making a habit of coming home drunk.”
I have one guess who told him that: my mother.
“Are you telling me you didn’t party when you were in college, Vale?” The guy is a member of a motorcycle club. He still parties.
“Heard you’ve been giving your mom hell. You want to tell me why? You should feel lucky that they’re letting you live under their roof while you’re going to school. They don’t have to do that, Wyn.”
I climb out of bed, knowing there’s not a chance in hell I’ll get back to sleep.
My nerves have been shrugged awake, rubbed raw by the fact that my mother decided to bait him against me.
It’s time for a shower and then to have some heavy carbs before I find out what my friends are up to tonight.
A little hair of the dog may be just what I need.
“Where are you going?”
“To shower.”
“We’re not done, Wynter.”
Yes, we are.
I shut the bathroom door and reach for the sink, breathing in deep, trying to ward off the nausea that’s creeping in— along with all the unwanted thoughts.
First my mom. Then Martin, and now, Vale.
I’m a disappointment to all of them. Maybe I should pack my things and move.
It looks like none of them want me here, and I refuse to be considered a leach.
The only reason I stayed was because Martin asked me to.
He told me that it didn’t make sense to spend all that money on campus housing when I could live at home and save the money for later.
Now, the waitlist for housing is so long, I’ll have to wait until next year.
Or maybe it’s time to cut my losses and just go get a job.