Chapter 37
Lana
After eating dinner with Callan in the living room, I went back upstairs to take a quick shower.
I still carried that faint smell of the bar from last night on my skin and hair, and the moment it hit me again, all the memories from that place pushed up in my chest. It made me want to scrub twice as hard.
I washed my hair, stayed under the hot water for a long time, and tried to breathe past the heaviness that still lingered from everything that had happened.
While I stood there drying off, I heard Callan moving around downstairs.
He was cleaning up the empty dishes and putting things away.
Even if he was giving me space, he had the ability to make me feel less alone.
I took my time with my hair, working the towel through it before using my hairdryer.
It had gotten longer than I realized. The ends almost brushed against my hips.
I kept telling myself I needed a cut, but I never followed through.
Life felt too busy. School, emotions, the stress of everything that kept piling up, and then Callan, who took up more space in my mind than I ever admitted out loud.
There was always something else to handle, something else I had to get through before worrying about something as simple as a haircut.
I looked at myself in the mirror once my hair was almost dry.
The first thing I noticed was the bags under my eyes.
I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a while.
Every night seemed to come with a new worry or another round of thoughts that refused to calm down.
But I had some hope now. Callan promised he had everything handled.
He promised he wouldn’t let anything get worse.
And even if I wasn’t ready to trust every part of that, I could feel myself wanting to.
When I turned off the hairdryer, noise from downstairs came through like a punch.
Loud voices echoed through the house, but I couldn’t make out who it was.
All I could tell was that the second voice was a female’s.
My heartbeat jumped fast, and the heaviness in my stomach told me this was once again trouble.
I stood still for a moment, trying to understand what I was hearing, and every second made the pressure in my chest rise higher.
I closed my eyes and forced a long breath out, telling myself to stay calm.
I tried to tell myself I was safe here, but it seemed nothing would ever go back to normal.
The sound of a woman’s voice made my stomach twist. My thoughts scattered, and I questioned if Karlee had returned.
If she were standing downstairs right now, ready to start something new.
Would she even be brave enough to do that now that the police were investigating her?
If she were here, would she have brought someone with her?
None of those scenarios made sense, but logic was a far idea in this moment.
All I knew was that whoever she was, she had not come here with good intentions. Her tone told me everything. She wasn’t here for a normal conversation. She wasn’t here to work anything out. She wanted conflict.
Even with fear running through me, the idea of staying in my room while Callan faced this alone felt worse.
He had carried so much for me. He had taken hit after hit for my sake.
I couldn’t stay upstairs and let him deal with something that probably involved both of us.
He deserved my support, even if I was shaking on the inside.
I pulled on my loungewear fast with unsteady hands.
I took one more breath, trying to steady myself enough to move, though nothing about me felt steady at all.
I stepped out of the bathroom and crossed my bedroom, and when I reached the top of the stairs, I stopped, gripping the railing as I listened again, trying to understand what waited for me below.
Mom.
Her voice hit me hard, and it took me a second to understand that it actually belonged to her.
She wasn’t just talking to Callan. She was screaming at him.
Full volume, no restraint, no filter. I heard something shatter next, a glass hitting the floor or the wall, and that noise made me freeze on the step.
Everything in me stalled as one thought pushed every other one out.
I had feelings for my mother’s ex-husband.
I had slept with him.
I felt closer to him than I had ever felt to anyone, and I didn’t even know if he felt the same about me or if I had just projected everything I wanted onto someone who simply treated me like I mattered.
I stood there with my hand on the railing while my mind replayed every moment with him.
Every kiss, every touch, every conversation.
And all I could see now was that invisible line I had crossed without ever thinking about what it meant.
I had stepped straight over it, and somehow I was only now realizing how severe it looked from the outside, how wrong it sounded when tied to the word mother.
My hearing went muffled in seconds, and my vision blurred. I couldn’t think straight anymore, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to go down the stairs or run in the opposite direction.
My chest tightened with every breath I tried to take. I tried to force my body to relax, but nothing helped. I needed space. I needed air. I needed to get out of here.
I stepped backward into my room, keeping my eyes on the hallway as if my mom might appear at the top of the stairs any second.
My hands shook while I pulled open my closet.
I grabbed the first jacket I could reach, not even checking which one it was, and shrugged it on in a frenzy.
I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t know where I intended to go.
I just knew I couldn’t stand in this house while they fought because the guilt was crawling up my spine and I felt exposed and ashamed.
I zipped the jacket halfway, getting frustrated when my hair got stuck in the zipper. I tried to get my breathing under control as I moved toward the door. I needed to leave before I fell apart.
I kept my head down as I walked down the stairs, my eyes fixed on every step, and my only focus was on getting to the front door before anyone realized I was there.
My pulse was loud in my ears, and it made me feel dizzy.
I hit the bottom step when I saw her in the living room, her eyes immediately darting to me when she heard me.
Her entire posture was rigid with anger.
Her face looked flushed, her makeup smeared like she had been crying or yelling for a long time.
Her hair was messy, sticking to her cheeks, and her breathing was heavy and loud.
She stared at me as if she had been waiting for this exact second.
“Lana!” she screamed. Her voice made me flinch. I had heard her this angry before. A lot, actually. Especially when I was little. But back then I didn’t understand the weight behind it. Now I did. Now every shouted word felt deliberate. Every spike in her tone felt like a warning.
I froze again. My hands curled at my sides as my stomach twisted hard. I tried to look away but couldn’t. She was already walking toward me with fast steps, and I felt my body start to shrink. I backed up until my shoulder hit the wall.
Before I could say a word, she reached me. Her hand shot out and grabbed my upper arm, her fingers digging into my skin with so much force I gasped.
“You little slut,” she spat, her face inches from mine. I could smell the alcohol on her breath. “Fucking my husband…you’re a dirty little whore. Did you think I wouldn’t see it?”
The shame I had tried to bury came rushing up, overwhelming me. She shook me once, waiting for an answer I couldn’t give.
I didn’t get a chance to form a sentence.
She slapped me, making my whole body turn to the side. The sharp sound was almost as intense as the pain that rushed to my cheek, spreading in a sharp pain across my face. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My eyes watered from the impact, and I blinked fast, trying to clear my vision.
Before she could raise her hand again, I heard footsteps coming toward us.
“Eden, stop,” Callan ordered. He grabbed her arm and tried to pull her back, but she fought him, twisting out of his hold and reaching for me again.
“Don’t touch her,” he said, louder this time. He managed to step between us, holding one arm out to block her, and, with his other hand, he tried to push her away. “You need to calm down. You’re drunk.”
She shoved him hard. “Get out of my way! You think I don’t know you’ve been fucking her? I’ve known long before that fucking video was leaked! You think I’m stupid?”
“Enough!” he roared, but she wasn’t intimidated in the slightest.
She tried to get around him again, fingers grasping at the air as she was reaching for me. He held her back, both hands on her shoulders now, trying to guide her toward the living room. She clawed at his arms, kicking and screaming.
I stood frozen, my heart hammering so fast I felt lightheaded. My cheek throbbed, and the back of my throat burned. I couldn’t breathe right. Everything around me felt like it was closing in.
Callan finally managed to push her through the archway and to the couch where he used his body to block her from coming back to me. She hit the back of the couch with her palm, shouting at him, trying to slip past, but he held her in place.
“Go upstairs,” he said over his shoulder to me. “Lana, please.”
But I didn’t stay. I couldn’t.
The moment I realized I had a small window of time to escape, I turned toward the front door, wiping at my tear-streaked face as I reached for the doorknob.
“Lana, no!” Callan called out. “Don’t leave.”
Without glancing back at him, I choked out the only words I could manage.
“I’m so sorry.”
I didn’t wait to see if Callan heard me. Couldn’t look at his face. I yanked open the front door and ran out of the house, leaving him behind like a coward as he called out my name again and again, until I was too far away to hear him.
Callan
I locked myself in the kitchen with Eden, keeping her contained so she couldn’t slip out before the police showed up.
She was drunk and completely unhinged. She grabbed anything within reach and hurled it at the walls.
Glass shattered across the tile, plates broke on the counters, and cabinets slammed open and shut as she tore through them.
She threw half the fridge onto the floor and stepped on everything, smashing food into the ground.
She wasn’t in control of herself. She wasn’t even close.
And as much as every part of me wanted to run out of this room and go after Lana to make sure she was safe, I couldn’t leave Eden loose in this house.
I didn’t trust her for a second. She’d wreck the entire place.
She’d go to Lana’s room. She’d break anything she knew mattered.
She was capable of that and worse. So I stayed and waited.
I kept the door locked and listened for the sound of cars, hoping the police would arrive quickly.
She kept yelling at me, but that wasn’t what got under my skin.
Her voice was slurred and full of venom, but I could handle her anger.
What made my jaw clench was the way she talked about her daughter.
Every insult was sharper than the last. She called her every name she could think of.
She blamed her for things that weren’t her fault.
She dragged her through the mud like she wasn’t even her kid.
If anyone deserved blame, it was me. I was the one who crossed the line. I was the adult who should’ve known better. But Eden didn’t see any of that. She never had. To her, Lana had always been the problem. Lana had always been the kid who messed up, even when she hadn’t done a damn thing wrong.
It killed me to hear it. Lana was a good person.
Kindhearted and loyal in ways her mother had never bothered to understand.
She deserved a mother who protected her, especially now.
She had a damn revenge porn posted online without her consent, and instead of standing beside her or comforting her, Eden tore her down even more.
Eden grabbed another glass from the counter and screamed at me again, telling me how big of an asshole I was as her hand snapped forward before I could even react.
The glass flew straight at my head, and it hit my temple with a hard crack as it shattered. A sting shot across the side of my face, followed by the sharp burn of tiny cuts.
Eden didn’t even stop to see if she hit me. She just reached for something else, winding up for another throw.
I pressed my hand to my temple, felt warm blood under my fingertips, and forced myself upright again. I needed to stay calm and keep her in here. I needed the police to get here before she escalated into something worse.
And I needed them to fucking hurry.