Page 12 of Unthinkable

“You’re a dumb little bitch that’s scared someone’s going to take her food away. That’s why you eat like you’re never going to eat again.” I glance down at the grapes in my bowl, then to my glass of milk. “Even your father thinks you eat like a fucking pig.”

My shoulders bunch tight, and she smiles, knowing she hit a nerve the moment she brought Jensen into this. He’s not my father, nor have I ever seen him as such, but the thought of them discussing me behind my back in a cruel way has me swallowing back the emotion gathering in my throat.

It’s a lie. It has to be. Jensen would never talk badly about me. I know it.

Footsteps can be heard heading our way, so I glance back at Amanda.

“Go ahead and ask him.” She tilts her head toward Jensen, who fills the doorway like some sort of chiseled god. He’s dripping with sweat, his bare chest showcasing the ink that covers him, and he’s breathless. Has there ever been such a gorgeous sight?

My eyes lock onto the starfish on the deep V of his abs, and all the hurt her words caused is banished. I love that little starfish almost as much as I love him.

Jensen pulls the earbuds from his ears. “Ask me what?”

“How you always comment that Immie has an appetite.”

His brow furrows, and his gaze bounces from me to Amanda and back again. He studies me a moment longer, and I don’t know what he sees, but his jaw sets tight before he snaps his thunderous eyes back toward Amanda.

“Why do you have to be such a bitch, Amanda?”

I try not to smile around the grape I just pushed into my mouth.

“What is it? You’re not happy, so you want to hurt others, is that it?” He steps toward her.

I avert my gaze, but I feel the fury radiating from Amanda. “Maybe I’m fed up with being left alone caring for a child that doesn’t belong to me!” she screams, and I wince. “One I never wanted.”

Jesus, it’s a good thing I never thought of her as a mother figure. I’d have been severely disappointed.

Jensen blows out a deep breath, and I continue eating. “She’s not a child, Amanda. She’s eighteen now.” I want to pump my fists in the air. He no longer sees me as a child. “An adult,” he tacks on.

My heart skips a beat at his words. He sees me as an adult. Fucking finally.

“It’s not like she needs care twenty-four seven.”

I throw another grape in my mouth. Absolutely right, I don’t. Unless it’s from him, of course.

She scoffs. “You wouldn’t think it. You only see the innocent side of her.”

Jensen glances toward me, then back at Amanda. “Maybe you only see the opposite,” he counters, and I want to high-five him.

Instead, I push out my chair, stick out my bottom lip, give it a little wobble, then turn toward them both. “I’m going to get ready for practice.”

Jensen’s face softens, and he opens his mouth to say something, but I practically run from the room. A smile creeps over my face when the screaming penetrates the walls as I head upstairs.

Bing-fucking-o.

Now I lie in wait for Jensen to come and find me. I just need to make sure I don’t push him too far too soon.

CHAPTER EIGHT

JENSEN

Amanda storms from the house, and I swear the walls shake with the slam of the door, but the tension in my body dissipates. I scrub a hand over my jaw. Jesus, has it always been this difficult with her?

I’ve only been home a couple of days, and I’d rather return to the deadliest family on the West Coast than deal with this war zone. No, that’s a lie, seeing Immie makes it all worthwhile. It’s just a shame I have to deal with Amanda too.

Unfortunately, until recently, they came as a package. I needed Amanda to adopt Immie to have a better chance at portraying a stable home for her, should the authorities ever come knocking. Now that she’s eighteen, I’m slowly realizing Amanda no longer needs to be in the equation, and she’s also beginning to realize that. I swear she’s spiraling.

I head up the stairs, taking two at a time, the overwhelming need to comfort Immie almost unbearable.