She wished they would believe her when she said they weren’t staying. She meant it.
However, along with being selfish, they were also incredibly stubborn.
Cheyenne had managed to find a minute to call her grandmother, wanting to ensure everything was okay. During their half-hour conversation—one in which her grandmother sounded rather lucid, considering her deteriorating condition—Cheyenne learned that yes, Paul and Frankie had stopped by, but hadn’t stayed long. They’d done their best to wear her down to get information on where Cheyenne was, but had failed. Her grandmother had informed her that she’d pretended not to know who they were—which in many instances, she truly didn’t. Grams still had a sense of humor and Cheyenne couldn’t wait to get her home. As usual, Grams had given Cheyenne the gentle warning she always had—love them, but don’t trust them. Cheyenne assured her that they were on the same page.
But now that night was falling, Cheyenne knew she needed to send them on their way.
Wanting to gather her thoughts, she stepped out on the back porch, Scrap following at her heels. Flopping down onto the ratty love seat they’d yet to get rid of, Cheyenne watched Scrap as he disappeared into the darkness below. Even from outside she could hear the consistent drone of her father talking to Brendon—about what, she hadn’t a clue. Nor did she care.
Brendon had been her saving grace throughout the day, intervening when Frankie would get downright nasty and keeping Paul off the topic of money. At first, Cheyenne had been embarrassed by the way her parents treated her. She’d been around the Walkers long enough to know that her family dynamic was the polar opposite of theirs. Every time she’d looked at Brendon, she’d expected to see pity in his eyes, but surprisingly, that hadn’t been the case. She was almost certain he shared her need for them to leave though.
She just wished it could be easier than it was. Despite their flaws, Cheyenne loved her parents. No, she didn’t trust them as far as she could throw them, but she did love them. The wounds they left her with continued to fester, never quite healing though, and she didn’t think they even realized it. But, she’d learned to deal. At least to the best of her abilities.
Scrap growled, pulling Cheyenne from her thoughts. She squinted in the darkness, barely making out his tiny form on the grass below. They hadn’t yet put security lights on the porch, and the glow from the kitchen window did little to shine farther than where Cheyenne sat. If anything, it made it more difficult to see.
A bark unlike anything she’d have expected from that tiny dog had Cheyenne getting to her feet. She called after him, but he moved farther away, growling and snarling at something.
She was hesitating as to what to do when the back screen door flew open and Brendon came out of the house at a dead run. He launched himself off the porch, almost completely soundless with the exception of his softly pitched command for her to go inside followed by the screen door closing with a silence-shattering crash behind her.
Cheyenne did as instructed, trusting his instincts implicitly. Once inside, she moved into the living room, where her parents were still sitting.
“Why’d he go runnin’ out of here?” Cheyenne asked, her heart beating a mile a minute.
Paul shrugged, moving to sit on the edge of the sofa, his hands clasped in his lap. Was he nervous about something? “No idea. His phone rang, he answered, hung up, and hauled ass.”
Oh, shit. Cheyenne wondered whether that was her stalker that had been lurking outside. Had Z called? Was that who they were going after?
She felt like the victim in a bad horror movie. What was she supposed to do? Where was she supposed to go?
Before she had a chance to process those questions, the front door opened and in walked …
Cheyenne stared at the man stepping into the house, confusion causing her head to spin. “Victor?”
What. The. Hell? What in the world was he doing there? And more importantly, how had he … ?
“Cheyenne,” Victor greeted, approaching slowly, his tone flat, his light brown eyes empty as they scanned the room.
A chill slid down her spine as she glanced over at her mother and father, who were conveniently seated on the sofa as though they had a front-row seat to a blockbuster. Cheyenne noted immediately that they didn’t appear surprised to see Victor.
Not. At All.
Oh, God.
“What’re you doin’ here?” she asked, backing up until her legs hit the arm of the couch.
Brendon was outside, she had no freaking clue where Z and RT were, but she got the sickening feeling that wherever they were, this man had a hand in sending them there.
Regardless, she knew this wasn’t good. All the puzzle pieces began clicking into place as she looked at her ex-boyfriend, Victor Campbell.