“If you had been dancing with a man like that in public, I would’ve taken you over my knee.”

He casts a quick look at Cici and then back down to me. “We’re going home.”

Taking my hand, he pulls me along, back toward the tent.

What the hell? I might care if I do something that reflects poorly on him, but I wasn’t doing anything wrong. So a few guys got their rocks off watching a couple of girls dancing. I honestly wasn’t even trying to dance well, so caught up in our conversation as I was.

He pushes through the crowd, and my wrist burns. I pull away, yanking free, and stomp past him toward the truck. Opening the back door, I climb in behind the driver’s seat and slam the door.

They can pack up the tent themselves.

I shake my head.

That’s the second time I’ve gotten yelled at for drawing attention I didn’t ask for. This possessive obsession with protecting my innocence is ridiculous. Just because they’re “experienced” doesn’t mean they’re any more mature or wise. I would even debate they’re less so. That’s been pretty clear since I arrived.

The truck shakes and rocks as he and Noah pack the tent, table, chairs, and other gear in the back, and I look out the window, seeing some guy ride off on Noah’s bike with a girl on the back. They look vaguely familiar—maybe a friend borrowing his motorcycle.

Laughter goes off outside the truck as the tailgate closes, and I look over, seeing a woman climbing in beside me.

A whiff of her perfume hits me, and she looks up, smiling at me as she closes the door.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

More giggles sound off behind me, and as Jake and Noah hop into the front seat, I close my eyes, my anger so hot I clench my fists.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect. I don’t turn around to see how many are in the truck bed. I just shoot my uncle a glare in the rearview mirror.

He meets my eyes but then looks away as he starts the truck.

Dancing with someone makes me look like a slut, but they can serial screw every night and not see the irony there.

Jake starts the truck, and I have no idea if Kaleb is still at the bonfire or in the bed behind me, but I cross my arms over my chest, too angry to even care.

Music plays on the radio as we speed up the dark highway, climbing the mountain on our way home. A cheer goes off behind me in the night wind, and I hear Noah crack a beer from the passenger seat in front.

So I’m just supposed to listen to all them go at it all night?

“Take me over your knee…” I repeat, looking at Jake’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “I’ve never been spanked in my life.”

He looks up, meeting my gaze. “If you want to be, keep it up.”

The girl next to me shifts in her seat, and the tension in the cab suddenly rises a couple notches.

Asshole.

“You’ll hit me, because I would do things you don’t like?”

“It’s called correction,” he retorts, staring back at the road. “And I’ll do it, because I care about you.”

Noah glances over his shoulder at me and then looks over at his father, whispering, “What’s going on?”

Jake shakes his head once, blowing him off.

“You can’t stop me from being with someone or having sex if I want to,” I inform him. “It’s called a double standard, Jake. You guys get to be with women. Why can’t I enjoy someone’s company?”

“We can be with women, because no one has laid claim to us.”

“No one has laid claim to me.”

“You’re a young woman in my house,” he fires back. “We claim you until you’re old enough.”

“On my birthday?”

He cocks a dark eyebrow at me, but doesn’t reply as he focuses back on the road.

Will I be old enough when I’m eighteen in a matter of weeks? Will he back off then?

Of course not. I’m old enough when he says, because I’m too stupid to keep myself out of trouble.

And whether or not I’m ready for sex is one thing, but intimacy is another. We all want to be special to someone. Family isn’t the same thing. I’d like to meet someone eventually.

“Your logic is flawed, you know?” I tell him, staring at him through the mirror. “If a woman claims you, then she’ll also do for you what other women do. But if you all are claiming me, you’re not doing for me what other men would do.”

Noah spurts beer from his mouth, choking and dripping alcohol everywhere as he looks wide-eyed over at his father and coughs into his hand.

I bite back a smile.

Noah hacks, struggling for breath, and wipes the mess off his lap. Jake stares at me through the rearview mirror.

But he doesn’t reply.

And I’m not the first to look away this time.

Tiernan

“Ah!” a whimper rings though my ears, and I shoot up in bed, popping my eyes open.

I cough, sweat covering my brow.

The smell… I let out a sob as my eyes burn. My hair hangs in my face, blowing out with my heavy breaths, and my stomach aches as the knots tighten.

What the hell? I cough again, unable to catch my breath.

God. Only remnants of my dream remain, but I can still smell that stench. The pungent, soapy candles gagging me…

Nausea rolls through me as I press the back of my hand to my mouth, and something rises in my throat. Commotion echoes in the house, but pain wracks my body, and I can’t take it. Throwing off my covers, I stumble out of bed, falling to my hands and knees, and scramble toward the trashcan.

I grab the one by my desk and hover over it, heaving.

The odor clogs my nostrils and fills my throat. I don’t remember what the dream was about, but I couldn’t breathe. I still can’t. I gasp.

The bile rises up, and I lurch, coughing and gagging over the can, gripping both sides. Why do I still smell it? It’s all over me like it was all over every inch of furniture in my parents’ room, and I start crying, rubbing the chill off my arms as dirt weighs my skin.

I shake, my sobs breaking loose as the nausea subsides and sadness takes over. I feel like I’m in that house again. I hadn’t realized how I hadn’t felt that in days now.

The cold. The sterile silence and the serrated air stinging my nostrils. That house where the walls were too hard and there was nothing that wasn’t sharp.

I suck in deep breaths and tuck my hair behind my ear, the scent of the wood and the trees outside slowly overshadowing the memory of the candles.

Falling to my ass, I lean back against the wall, my arms propped up on my knees as I squeeze my eyes shut and tears wet my cheeks.

Ugh, that feeling.

I don’t want to feel it again. I shake my head. I don’t want to go back there ever again.

I’m here. I’m in Colorado, with them and the wind and the warm fire and the new smells.

The floor creaks above me, and I open my eyes, slowly raising them up to the dark ceiling.

Kaleb. His room is above mine. A piece of furniture shifts across the floor, another creak here and a stomp there, but then I hear a cry behind me and feel something hit the wall.

Noah’s next to me, and I rest the back of my hand against the wall by my head, feeling his headboard hitting on the other side again and again, the thuds speeding up.