"I don't see why I need to be here Lukas, it's not like this behavior is anything new." Natalia sneers, arms crossed over her chest where she regards me coolly. I remain calm, despite my urge to punch her in her pretty, maternally incompetent face.

Dad sighs heavily and draws a hand over his eyes haggardly. "Natalia, please, just this once, shut up and pretend you give a damn about your daughter. Can you do that?" He snaps, I gawk, nearly unable to suppress my amused snort.

Natalia looks scandalized for half a second before her features smooth out and she settles down on the couch beside him, chin up and eyes disdainful. I glance between the two of them from my place beneath a heavy blanket.

They'd showed up not even thirty minutes before—I've been counting—and started asking questions about Bas and me.

Well, Dad had. She'd stared around my apartment in frank horror, face twisting at the unwashed dishes, pillows and blankets strewn across the floor, and half-naked couple sitting in the living room.

The speed with which Kaila bolted, Spencer in tow, had been comical. Better yet, Dad's face looked white. The whole situation had been the highlight of my week.

Now, we were sitting in awkward silence. Natalia a mix of emotion, Dad unsure how to proceed, and me, well, that's yet to be determined.

"How are you Reecie?" Dad probes gently, I flick my eyes up to his and shrug.

"Been better."

He frowns, clasps his hands in his lap, and tries again. "Did you want to talk about it? You know I'm here."

I nod my acknowledgment, wait for him to say more. Dad shifts uneasily and side-eyes his wife.

"Natalia, do you have anything to add?" He urges. I want to laugh at how distraught he looks, but I bite my tongue and catch my mother's displeased gaze.

She watches me for a moment, then clucks her tongue, and says, "Scared off another one, did ya? Well, I hope you learned something."

For a long moment, I just stare. Beside her, Dad clenches his jaw. Then it's like a storm starts somewhere inside me and I burst out laughing.

Dad stares at in surprise, starts to rise and approach, expression tight. "Reece—"

I wave him off, laughing too hard to string anything coherent together. "Wait—just—gimme one—"

"Goodness!" Natalia lurches up from the couch, hands fluttering as she balks at me. "What's wrong with her Lukas?"

Dad scowls at her, still reaching uncertainly for me. I shake my head at them, work to reign in my emotions. Natalia glances nervously around, as if a crowd of camera-wielding vultures might melt out of the walls and capture my breakdown on tape.

I almost wish they would.

Once I'm able to gather enough oxygen to speak, I bolt up from my chair and advance on my mother.

"What in the hell is wrong with you?" I seethe, hands flexing at my sides. Natalia blinks, eyes wide as she retreats a step. "You know, Mom, I'm really tired of taking your bullshit. In fact, I'm done."

From the corner of my eye, I see Dad starting to move between us. I throw him a look and give a small shake of my head.

He hesitates, looking pained as he attempts reason. "Reecie, just calm—"

"Fuck no!" I roar, jabbing my finger in my mom's direction. "I'm sick of her treating me like a screw-up!" I move my gaze back to Natalia.

She's recovered from my attack and meets my fury with equal vehemence. "How dare you speak to me this way, right now, of all times! Do you know what I've been through this week?" She presses her palms to her chest, eyes wet and glassy. "My daughter is being dragged through the mud on every major gossip station and my client had the nerve to hit me! Your father came and—"

The harshness of my laugh cuts her off, leaves her looking stricken. "You're kidding me, right?" I taunt.

Natalia gives a confused shake of her head, eyes flicking anxiously to Dad. I shift, block her gaze of him, and press close so we're only inches apart. "Do you even remember what happened to me? The abuse I took, the pain I endured, the fear I felt. Now you expect me to feel sorry that one of your sex buddies smacked you around a bit. I was raped, Mom, repeatedly, for months!" I rage, voice climbing as I continue.

"I carry physical reminders of that suffering, you," I pause and snort. "Your bruises will fade and your life will return to normal. Mine changed, and you treated me like it was my fault."

Something touches my arm, I glance over and see Dad's pale face. Before me, Natalia makes an indignant noise and tries to maneuver around me. "I'm leaving, I don't need to take this type of disrespect." She snarls.

I'm moving before I fully know why, all I can see is red and all I can feel is anger. "I'm not done talking!" Natalia jumps back, emitting a squeal of alarm. Dad reaches for me again but I swat his hand away.

"Reecie, please—"

I ignore him, pin Natalia with the darkness in my eyes. "You don't know the definition of disrespect, Mother. You walk around expecting the world to bend down and worship you. I'm sorry, but I'm done doing that. You don't get to hurt me anymore, you don't get to treat me like dirt and get away with it."

I am not a victim.

"Reece, that's enough—" Dad's voice, cool and authoritative, does little to cow me.

"You can't say that!" I retort, turning my anger on him. Dad looks taken aback for only a moment, then his expression shifts into one of frustration.

"I don't know where this attitude is coming from but—"

"You don't know, really?" I glance between them, hands shaking as I gesture. "Why do you put up with this? It's no wonder I confused abuse for love considering she's spent the last few decades emotionally destroying you. And you take it!"

"It's complicated!"

I laugh out loud, relish in the freedom it brings me. "It's not though! It's just sad, Dad, really, it breaks my heart to see you hurt by her over and over again. Don't you get that?"

Dad opens his mouth, seems to register my admission, and stops short. He frowns, considers something, then snaps his jaw shut.

Natalia, however, has plenty to say about this. "I do no such thing!" She counters, I barely spare her a glance, deciding her obtuse opinions mean very little right now.

Dad and I stare at one another for several long moments in which something monumental seems to shift in him. He sighs and steps toward me, arms encircling me in a fierce hug. I struggle for a moment, stunned by this abrupt change.

"Dad?" I voice, hesitant as I return the embrace.

"I'm proud of you." He says, pulling back to look at me. I blanch, blinking.

I just bitched both him and his wife out, and he's...proud?

"What?" I whisper. Dad smiles and brushes back my hair.

"Wait, what!?" Natalia echoes me, Dad doesn't turn. There's something tangible in his eyes as he regards me.

"You fought back," he explains, "and you had a right to." This time, Dad does look at Natalia, jaw clenching.

With a start, I realize my dad is right. I did fight back, not only here with my Mom. But in the alley that night too. I told Bas exactly what I thought and he'd taken it with little complaint. Even though, really, I'd been yelling at Asher.

Before Bastien, I'd have never done that. Or this: calling out my mom, telling my dad the truth he's been ignoring.

"You'll be alright," he promises. I can't form a response as Dad steps back and takes Mom's arm. "We should be going."

"But Lukas! She insulted me!" Natalia shrieks, Dad looks at her darkly.

"Enough Natalia, let's go."

I watch them head for the door in numbed silence, unable to comprehend the very different direction this visit took.

It's not until Dad's halfway out the door that I think to call out. He turns at the sound of my voice. We lock gazes and whatever I'd intended to say flees from my mind.

The decision on his face is clear, and I know that whatever just happened between the three of us was the catalyst.

Their marriage is over.

**

When a knock sounds at our door the next evening, I have every intention of ignoring it. However, Kaila, who's curled up beside me on the couch, has other ideas.

She lurches up and flutters from the room. "Thank God!"

"Are you expecting someone?" I call back.

"No, but that movie is awful." She returns, making no attempt to hide her distaste. We'd been watching action movies all day because I was in this weird mood that required a lot of dramatic car chases, gunfights, and mass destruction. She'd only complied because of yesterday's blowout with my parents.

Her first response when they'd left was to tiptoe from her room, a book in hand like a shield, and say, "The only thing more badass than that would've been if you'd done it in a chain mail bikini and war paint."

I'd stared at her for several long moments, not sure how to respond. My brain was slow and foggy, compounded by the emotional turmoil brewing within me. The result was a zombie-like trance.

A high-pitched shriek draws me back to the present. I blink, focusing on the TV screen where a cast of high school students face off against an army of alien invaders. One had just been torn apart, and while the CGI and special effects were subpar, I couldn't help but cringe when another student's head went rolling through the shot.

Suddenly, I had to agree with Kaila's earlier conclusion.

Where did I find this shit of a movie?

"Reecie!" Kaila yells, popping her head around the corner, a shadow of a frown on her features. "They're here for you," she says. Pulling on a lock of her blue hair, she adds, "Awesome hair though, love the purple."

Purple?

I'm about to voice my confusion when Claude Killfeather steps around my best friend, a smirky expression on her face. At my gaping response, Claude trots across the room, flopping down beside me on the couch.

"Close that," she says, tapping two fingers under my jaw. I my teeth shut, stare into her hazel eyes so much like Bastien's. "You'll collect flies."

I open my mouth, find myself unable to speak, and close it, only to open it again and spew the first thing that comes to mind. "What're you doing here?"

"Why is everyone so shocked to see me?" Claude harrumphs. "It's like you guys expect me not to care when you don't answer my messages."

"You guys?" I blink like an owl. "Have you...?" Have you seen Bastien?

Claude fixes me with a stern look, her lips tightening as she regards me. "You know, I don't usually connect to people so quickly. I gave Jack the third degree for months after he proposed to Noelle. But you," Claude pauses and tilts her head, "you already feel like my sister. So, when you stopped texting me back, I had to come. And yes, I have seen him," she muses as she examines the show playing behind me. "Bas was totally falling apart, and I couldn't let that happen with the inevitability of your reunion hanging in the balance."

I gape as Claude searches around for the remote and clicks off the screen. "That's better."

Behind her, Kaila shuffles into the room, looking even more confused than before. "Wait, who are you again?"

Claude looks up with a smile. "Bastien's older sister, Claude Killfeather." She sticks out her hand in greeting, Kaila accepts hesitantly.

"And you're here to berate Reece for breaking his heart...?" Kaila wonders, dropping off as her expression turns protective. "Because that—"

Claude's boisterous laugh cuts her off. "Of course not! I completely understand why she had to walk away that night." Claude's gaze shifts back to me.

To my surprise, her words ring true, her expression naked sincerity. Not a speck of malice greets me as I regard her. In truth, I'd been fully expecting a level ten outburst in defense of her brother. This kinship she's expressing toward me is both intriguing and welcoming.

"You," I pause, swallowing. "You saw the video then." You saw him hit me.

"Bien sûr." Claude rolls her eyes. "The whole damn world saw that video Reecie."

I nod in agreement, start wringing my hands together in my lap. "Okay then," I glance at Kaila, then Claude, and back to Kaila. My roommate shrugs and settles down on the floor between us, curious. "What do you mean you understand why I had to walk away?" I hedge, refocusing on Claude.

She shrugs and leans back, arms crossed against her chest as she peers up at the ceiling. "Well, you came face-to-face with your abuser, witnessed the man you love beat up the man you thought you loved, and were triggered when said man that you love accidentally hurt you while trying to protect you."

Holy—! I gape in alarm. Get out of my head.

"It makes perfect sense that your mind couldn't see past the initial incident to the truth of what happened." Claude continues levelly. "In the heat of the moment, you had no choice but to turn your back on what you perceived to be another dangerous situation."

Kaila's jaw hits the floor. "What are you, psychic?"

"I listen when people talk, chérie." Claude glances from Kaila to me, expression quizzical. "What I'm having a hard time understanding is why you haven't gone back to him yet."

We stare at one another in an awkward beat of silence as her words sink in, and I'm torn between awe and anger. One half of me wants to lay into her for making assumptions about my character. The other part is overwhelmed with relief at having someone that truly gets what was going through my head that night.

Then the final part of her monologue registers and I frown. "What do you mean why I haven't gone back yet?" I ask incredulously.

She just finished saying she understood, and now she was asking why I've continued to keep my distance?

"Yeah, she doesn't belong to Bastien or anything. And she's not obligated to return to him simply because he defended her." Kaila cuts in, her face contorting irately.

Claude meets the expression with a calmly arched look. "That's exactly my point, he defended her. He never intended to harm her." Hazel eyes flicker toward me, "and I know you know that."

I glance away as guilt surges in me, gnawing at the frayed edges of my emotions with renewed vigor. It had been there on and off over the past week, haunting me with thoughts of regret and indecision. Now, in the face of Claude's summations, it rears up strong and proud.

"Does she though?" Kaila retorts, playing devil's advocate.

"Had he ever harmed her before that night?" Claude spares Kaila an amused glance, gaze bright with challenge. "Had he ever even shown aggression toward her?"

Kaila contemplates this and shrugs, head tilting to the floor. "Well, no, but people hide their true colors."

Claude snorts, "Not my brother, he's an open book," she says.

"Open and shut," Kaila interjects before Claude can continue.

Claude expels an exaggerated sigh and takes my face in her hands. Her palms are warm as she draws my face toward her so that we're eye to eye. "If you haven't heard a thing I've said, that's fine. But hear this: you've been falling forward into Bastien's arms for weeks now, and never," she pauses for emphasis, "not once, has he ever let you go. It might not seem like it now, but he's still holding on, and he will even if you never go back."

My breath lodges in my throat, and a heady wave of...something overwhelms me. I can't put a name to the myriad of emotion those words invoke, can't find words that convey how deeply they impact me.

"Besides," Claude releases me and smirks, snake bites flashing. "You didn't deny it."

I blink, lost in the sudden subject change. "Deny what?" I ask stupidly.

Claude giggles, and even Kaila gives me an 'are you kidding me?' look.

"You didn't deny that you love him." Kaila clarifies, throwing her arms up in exasperation. "Seriously Reecie, keep up." She snaps her fingers at me.

I flush dark red, start fiddling with the tattered edge of the blanket on my legs. "I don't—I mean, I can't now—"

"Why the hell not?" Claude barks, sitting upright. Kaila eyes her sharply.

"Because!" I exclaim, unable to formulate a believable excuse in the moment.

Claude rolls her eyes and reclaims the TV remote, fingers clicking through channels deftly. Kaila touches my calf, the pressure of her hand a gentle comfort even through the thin blanket.

"You don't have to explain yourself, it's your choice." Kaila soothes, climbing to her feet and wedging herself in between Claude and I. She throws an arm around my shoulders, sparing the lavender haired woman furtive glances.

Claude doesn't notice as she fiddles around with the TV screen, flicking through numerous channels before settling on TMZ. There's a screen showcasing a woman with mocha skin and long dreads with the name Jolet Montai beneath it in flashy letters. A couch and a chair sit before that screen, empty right now, but the subtext flashing across the monitor clue me in to Claude's diabolical plan.

Kaila scowls and tries to grab the remote, Claude dodges with a smirk. "Nuh-uh, Reecie needs to see this."

"Like hell she does!" Kaila snaps. "She's hurting enough."

"She doesn't have to be though!" Claude returns, twisting as Kaila again lunges for the controller.

"Would you both stop?" I interrupt, jerking on Kaila's arm so that she tumbles back into the couch. She oomphs and scowls at me, Claude looks mildly satisfied until I shoot her an icy glare too. "I appreciate both of your attempts to decide what's best for me, but," my eyes flick to the screen, where the young woman now sits poised before the camera as she introduces herself. The camera shot widens to include a man beside her, and the breath catches in my throat.

"Turn it up." I whisper, leaning forward as I drink in Bastien's features.

It's been too long since I've seen him in person, too long since I've stared into his eyes, run my fingers through his hair. Now, as I watch him smile at Jolet and flash the camera a devil may care smirk, my heart starts skipping in my chest. You'd have to know him as well as I do to read the expression as a grimace and not a smile. There's a tightness around his eyes that tells me he's not as put together as he appears.

Claude obliges, and soon his voice fills the little apartment, sending slivers of agony through my body. I swear I feel my chest crack every time he looks at the camera, because it feels like he's looking at me.