“Get off me, you fucking asshole!” I scream. He looks at me in shock. “You think you're some gentleman with your fancy suits and your mansion, but inside you're just some sick pervert, taking advantage of anyone you can. I see who you really are, even if no one else does.”
His face twists with anger, and I feel my cheek light up with pain before my brain can process that he's slapped me. I bring my hand up to my burning face, my head still pulled to the side, just as Pierce disappears in a blur.
I straighten up with a gasp as I realize Nate has just tackled him to the floor, and they are now grappling fiercely on the kitchen tiles.
“Don't you fucking touch her!” he yells at his father, whose face is turning red in an effort to defend himself against his much stronger son. I hear footsteps from the stairwell and see my mom running down the hallway and manage to unfreeze myself.
“Nate! Nate, stop!” I yell, as he manages to find the top position. My mom screams as Nate punches Pierce hard across his jaw. I throw myself on Nate's back as he cocks his arm back in preparation for another punch. “Nate, I'm OK, I'm OK,” I repeat in his ear. I feel him relax a little and begin to pull him up. He drops his arm and stands up with me. Pierce pushes him away as he stands up, too, and they face off, each breathing heavily, Pierce with a trail of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
“What's going on?” my mom finally whispers, her voice full of fear.
“I saw everything,” Nate growls, addressing his father. “You hypocrite.”
To my shock, Pierce begins to laugh. “I knew it, I knew it! Look at you two!” he says, pointing at us.
“What's he talking about?” my mom asks, glancing at me.
“They're fucking!” Pierce bursts out.
“No…what?” my mom murmurs.
“Oh, Christ, Holly, are you really that fucking stupid? You didn't even suspect?”
My mom shakes her head. “That's why you're fighting?”
“No,” Nate says, turning to her. “I saw him trying to feel up Brynn, and then she told him to stop, and he slapped her.”
A look of horror spreads across my mom's face. She looks at me, then at Pierce.
“Is this true? Is it true?” Pierce doesn't even bother responding to her accusations, just turns his palms upward and shrugs. A wailing cry escapes my mom's lips. For a second I think she's going to collapse, but then she throws herself at Pierce, her limbs a blur as she attacks him. “I trusted you! I trusted you!” she screams. Pierce puts his arms up to defend himself as Nate steps forward and wraps his arms around her, hemming her in and then pulling her away. “My own daughter! My own daughter, you son of a bitch!”
With a strangled cry, she turns her head and begins to sob against Nate's chest. Pierce surveys the three of us, aligned against him on the other side of the kitchen.
“Nothing?” Nate whispers, as he rubs my mom's shoulder. “You have nothing to say for yourself?”
“Come on, Nate. You're really going to believe them?” Pierce says, a sneer of contempt on his face.
“I don't have to—I saw you with my own eyes. But I should have believed Brynn in the first place,” Nate says quietly, though I can hear the strength in his voice. Pierce can only manage a snort of derision before he walks toward the hallway. “My mother,” Nate says, and Pierce stops, his back still toward his son. “You made everything up, didn't you?”
Pierce stands frozen for a moment, his head slightly cocked to the side. I can't see his face, and can't imagine what could be going on inside his mind. His carefully crafted history, now falling apart around him. He shakes his head slightly, as if waving away an unpleasant smell, then continues to walk down the hallway. He heads straight to the front door, and shuts it behind him. As we hear the sound of his car heading down the driveway, my mom straightens up, and Nate's arms fall to his sides.
“I need to be alone for a little while,” she murmurs, her gaze on the floor, and walks unsteadily toward the stairs. I watch her leave, wishing she had the strength to comfort me for even a moment.
“She's just in shock,” Nate says, reading my mind like always.
“I know,” I reply with a nod, struggling to keep myself together.
“I should have believed you.”
“I had no reason to lie.”
“I know. I just couldn't believe he was capable of that kind of thing, or maybe I didn't want to believe.”
“You said some awful things to me today. God, was that just today?” I ask with a sad laugh, reaching up to rub my forehead.
“I'm so sorry, Brynn. I was angry…sometimes my temper…I didn't mean any of those things. The time we've spent together—” he says, taking a step toward me.
“No, no. I'm not ready for that. I don't know if we can go back…” I murmur, a tear slipping down my face.
“Brynn, please, I can't lose you.”
“You were so ready to turn on me,” I whisper. “So ready to push me away and be done with me.”
“I was in shock at seeing her again. I didn't actually mean it.”
“But you said it, didn't you? The way I care about you…I would never treat you that way, would never want you to hurt. But you wanted me to hurt. You don't feel the way about me that I feel about you. You can't.”
“That's not true! You have no idea how much I care about—”
“I love you.” There's a long silence. I stare up into his beautiful face, my heart shattering as he doesn't reply. He just looks back down at me, some unknowable emotion flickering across his eyes. “Well, there you go. There you go. Goodbye, Nate,” I say, turning my back to him. He doesn't move.
“What are you going to do?” he finally asks quietly.
“Um, well,” I begin with a cold laugh. “I think I'm going to eat this cold grilled cheese sandwich, and then I'm going to start packing.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I survey my mom's old beat-up station wagon. Both the car and our old house were just on the verge of being sold, but my mom was able to back out. Luckily she was taking her time in the process because she didn't think she had to worry about money anymore. The car isn't even full—the only things that belonged to us here were our clothes and some knick-knacks. It only took me a few hours this morning to pack it up. It's both sad and comforting. Our old life is still waiting for us, almost as though this whole summer never happened.
But of course it did. I wondered last night if I would take these last few months back if I could. If I were given a magic wand that could make it so that my mom had never met Pierce, that I'd returned to our old house for the summer, that my relationship with Nate had never gone beyond that encounter in the crew house, would I wave it?