Chapter 4

Listening to Waylon's strained attempt to sound calm over the phone, I wanted nothing more than to reach through the line and tear him apart.

"I just couldn't reach Lucie on her phone. What's going on? Why isn't she picking up?"

"Um… Lucie's phone's dead."

"I see. You two are home now, right? Hand the phone to her. I've got something to tell her."

"Uh… actually, she isn't home right now. She went downstairs to get something."

While Waylon fumbled and scrambled for excuses, Dad rolled his eyes and handed the phone to me.

I took a deep breath and tried to keep my voice steady. "Waylon, what exactly did I go out to buy?"

The second Waylon heard my voice, panic set in. He tried to defend himself, saying, "Lucie, let me explain! I didn't mean for this to happen. Where are you? I'll come get you!"

"Come to my house. I'll be waiting," Dad commanded and hung up without waiting for a response.

When Waylon arrived at my parents' house with a dreadful look, Dad immediately smashed the teapot Waylon had gifted him when he first came to visit.

Back when he gave Dad the teapot, Dad was very fond of it. Now, the shards and scalding tea splattered near Waylon's feet.

Waylon was still dressed in the expensive down jacket I'd carefully picked out and bought for him with my own money. He was also lugging along the luggage I'd packed for our trip.

The sight made my blood boil.

"Do you know how cold it is outside right now? You left Lucie on the streets in this weather with nothing! You heartless piece of trash!" Dad roared, his face red with anger.

Terrified, Waylon dropped to his knees and blurted, "I didn't mean to! I was just upset with Lucie and wanted to scare her a little. I never thought it would turn out this way!"

I almost laughed at the absurdity of his excuse.

This hadn't been just a scare. He had gambled with my life.

"Hand over her phone now!" Dad barked.

Shaking, Waylon hurriedly pulled my phone out of his pocket and handed it over.

I snatched it from him without hesitation.

Mom wiped the tears of distress from her eyes and lashed out at Waylon. "If this is how you treat Lucie here in her hometown, I can't imagine what she's suffered in your home!"

Seeing that my parents weren't backing down, Waylon decided to drop the act altogether. He stood up and pointed at the down jacket he wore with a disdainful sneer.

"Suffer? Please, she's been living in comfort like a queen. She doesn't lift a finger when my mom asks her to do something. Honestly, we're the ones suffering!

"She's nothing but a spoiled brat who wastes money left and right. Look at this jacket she bought me—it cost thousands! Who's really the victim here?"

"Oh, you want to play the victim? Did you forget the time your mom forced me to take some weird soups for fertility? Or when she demanded I pay for your brother's house while refusing to chip in a cent herself?

"Every penny we spent on this trip came out of my pocket! Do you seriously think I care about the meager salary you bring home? Like hell I do!" I snapped.

I'd never thought Waylon would go this far right in front of my parents. Since he had no shame left, why should I bother holding back?

Waylon's face turned crimson as he raised his hand, ready to strike me. But before he could, a firm grip yanked him backward.

Uncle Mike stood there, flanked by my two towering cousins.

My elder cousin, Colton Lamont, glared at Waylon with a sullen look and bellowed, "What do you think you're doing to Lucie?"

The next second, a sickening crack rang out, followed by Waylon's blood-curdling scream.