New house, new life, new start.
Lucinda Cartwright's life was thrown into chaos after her father and step mother died. She became the sole provider for her younger sister, Mary-Beth in a single moment. Uncertainty cloaked her and she decided that m...
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"I'm sorry Luce."
"Sorry isn't going to fix this. Not this time." I snapped. Silence filled the foyer of our home and I released a sigh, turning to look at my sister as hung up my coat on the rack.
"What were you thinking?"
We had driven home in silence. I had been too upset to speak. In the end, they had suspended Mary-Beth for three days and I suspected that the Vanderville's would press charges if they couldn't punish her in whatever way they saw fit. This was a shit storm.
She grimaced and dropped her face, fixating her gaze on her feet. She dug the toe of her sneaker into the floorboards. "I wasn't thinking. I was just – angry. I was so angry, and I wanted to hurt her." She squeezed her hands tight, knuckles turning white.
This was what I feared, deep down, that my sister was going to turn into some kind of monster. She might've had a bad attitude before her shift but I didn't have to worry about her snapping and killing someone. It was a drastic shift. It was very clear to me that I was in no way prepared to raise a teenager and I definitely wasn't prepared to raise a teenage werewolf. As if all the normal hormones weren't bad enough.
"That's a piss poor reason. Dad raised you better than that Mary-Beth. I—" couldn't handle this right now. "Just go wash up. We'll talk about this when you're done." I needed the time to collect myself and figure out how I was supposed to respond.
"Look, I didn't attack her for no reason. She was—"
"What did I just say?" I interrupted her. She held my gaze, jaw clenching. I could feel the anger radiating off of her. It sent a shiver of fear down my spine but I held my ground. I wasn't going to give in. I was going to hold her responsible for her actions – just because she was a werewolf now didn't mean she was free to do whatever she wanted, justifiable reasons or not.
She dropped her head and turned away. "This is bullshit." She stomped her way up the stairs.
"I agree. It's fucking bullshit." I yelled after her.
Her response was to slam the door when she reached her room. I flinched at the sound.
The silence that followed was interrupted by movement in the kitchen. I had forgotten that Cal had followed us back to the house, even after I'd told him that it was unnecessary. I narrowed my eyes and marched into the room to see him bent forward, looking around in my fridge, pulling out leftovers from the night before. He turned and cast a look at me over his shoulder – eyes trailing from my head to my toes.
He stood up to his full height as he closed the fridge. "You've never been one to not speak your mind. Out with it."
"I trusted you." I pointed a finger at him.
He cracked the lid on the container as he lifted it to his face and took a sniff. He made a face before dropping the leftovers back on the counter. "Okay. What's the problem?"
