Page 204 of Always Love You More

“You think you’re better than me?”

My breathing turns heavy as he cages me in, the hot stove dangerously close to my back. I subtly reach behind me, flicking off the burner.

He stares down at me, eyes wild, and I rack my brain, trying to figure out what to do. How to get him away from me.

“I’ll help you look,” I offer.

He grabs my arm, yanking me forward and pulling me into the living room. I wince as his grip on me turns painful. Shoving me forward, he waves out a hand. “Then look.”

I stumble, catching myself against the wall.

“You’re not gonna find shit,” he says, pacing in front of me.

“Are you sure you left them down here?” I ask cautiously.

The worse his dependence has gotten, the more forgetful he’s become. That on top of the mood swings, paranoia, and his worse-than-usual fucking personality, I have to play this safe.

I don’t know why he’s gotten it into his head that I took his pills, but with the way he’s glaring at me, I know there’s no reasoning with him right now.

I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t take pills. Other than those few times Jameson gave me Xanax after … well, other than those few times … I’ve never touched them. I’ve seen what getting hooked on them does to people. Not that my other vices aren’t a problem—I know they are—but at least I’ve stayed away fromanything hard. Plus, I couldn’t do that to Jameson. Not after his mother.

I scan the room, quickly moving past our father passed out on the couch. He’s a whole other issue that I don’t even want to think about right now.

I move forward, sidestepping Carson, and start to sift through the cluttered coffee table, but all I find are an empty bottle of gin, an overflowing ashtray, dirty dishes, and baby toys.

No pills.

My father snores loudly behind me, his arm draped across his bare stomach, smelling of stale alcohol and sweat.

“What’d I tell you?” Carson says, his voice close. “Maybe we should check underneath, huh? Just to be fucking sure.” He gives me a condescending look before stepping forward and flipping the table, making the contents tumble to the floor. Glass shatters, but he just steps around it.

I suck in a sharp breath, darting my eyes to our father, but he doesn’t even stir.

Carson moves for the recliner and flips it. “Nope,” he says, looking back over his shoulder at me. “What do you know? Not under here either.”

He goes for the side table next, knocking it over. The lamp shatters, and I jump.

“Stop,” I whisper. “You’ve made your point. I—”

“You gonna give ’em to me now.” He turns to face me. “Or do you want me to keep looking?”

I back up, slowly inching toward the stairs. “I didn’t take them. I don’t know what to tell you.” I grab onto the railing. “I don’t know where they—”

He rounds the tipped recliner as I take the first step up the stairs. “Where do you think you’re going?”

As fast as I can, I turn, flying up the stairs. I can hear him shuffling behind me, glass crunching underneath his shoes.

Only a few more steps, and I’ll be—

He grabs a hold of my ankle, pulling my feet out from under me. I fall, throwing my hands out and clawing at the stairs, kicking my foot back behind me. Pain sears through my knee as it hits the hard wood.

“Get the fuck off me!” I kick out again and feel his hand slip away.

Without hesitation, I scramble up, running to my room.

“Sam,” Cathleen calls, sticking her head out of the bathroom. “What’s going on?”

Carson chases behind me, and I hear Jace start wailing.