Red Blooded

Chapter 8 - Bang, Bang. I'm dead.

Dead.

I was not missing. I was not a runaway. I was dead.

They had condemned me to death.

I hadn't mistaken the words that had come out of Catherine's mouth. She had said it. I had watched her say it. I had watched Connor's face harden, Paul's hands covered his eyes, Alan looked at them with worry...and Hayden started at me with curiosity.

I was dead to them.

Perhaps I should have been devastated that my parents hadn't care for me at all, maybe I should have bawled my eyes out there and then, but I didn't. I felt the opposite of devastation. I felt elated. I was relieved.

I was happy that the nine years of voluntary exile was not in vain. I had made the right decision when I left. They really did despise me. The feeling was mutual.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Sam spoke quickly, softly, as I kept my head bowed and brought out my cell phone from my jacket pocket.

"It's fine. It was a long time ago." Paul said stoically. "I apologize if that made you feel uncomfortable."

I could feel Sam shake his head. "No, please, don't apologize. It wasn't my place to ask."

"Folks, let us not dwell on this topic." Alan interrupted, trying to keep the mood light. "I'm sure our guests would like to know where they're going to be camping. Our family community network is large so most of you will be staying in this building, and the rest will be staying in the house behind this one – with Paul's family.

A spring in gut tightened. My teeth chattered slowly. There was no way on hell that I would be staying here – surrounded by mutts.

I would bide my time.

"Come." Alan spoke, standing up from his stool. "We'll show you to your rooms so you can freshen up before the party tonight."

I grabbed on to Sam's hand when he rose; he didn't act surprised or shocked. I was used to being comforted by Sam. Hayden, however, looked like he was ready to pounce...until Hilary wrapped an arm around his torso. I kept my eyes off him after that. I did not need doubts.

Ten agonizing minutes were spent walking through the large house, through the back yard and onto the grounds of my old house.

Not home. House. It was never a home to me in all the years that I had lived there. Because Hayden's house was the biggest, Eric and Angela, Crick, Genevieve and the kids would be staying with them. Sam and I would be staying in my old house.

Paul and Catherine automatically assumed that Sam and I were a couple; they directed us to a master bedroom in the west wing, away from the occupied bedrooms. We had the whole west wing to ourselves.

That was another reason I hated this house when I was younger – even though it was big enough that you could walk around and never bump into anyone, I was still exiled to another wing so I couldn't be a problem to anyone.

Catherine and Paul left us in the corridor outside the bedroom that would be ours. Sam waved them off after they told us they would only be downstairs if they needed anything. I watched the man and woman walk off, watched their backs and stared, unaffected by their presence.

They meant nothing to me now. That thought comforted me.

Sam pushed open the door and picked up both our bags. He paused when he stood in the middle gargantuan room, and turned, looking confused.

"There's only one bed." Sam pointed out, dropping the bags in the middle of the grand room. I walked in, closing the door after me and paused opposite Sam to take a look around.