Chapter 11

Clementine

Crash. Bang. Slam. The sound of a loud, angry voice rang out. More crashing, more banging. I rolled over in bed and looked up at the ceiling. I knew I had to get up and deal with this—go play referee. I hated playing the arbitrator.

I rolled out of bed with a groan, shoved my glasses on my face, and padded out of the room.

I walked down the hallway to find my brother in the kitchen, slamming cupboards. My father was nowhere in sight.

“What the hell is going on?” I snarled.

“What do you mean?” Vinny asked.

“I heard you yelling at Dad.”

“I wasn’t yelling.” He looked at me curiously. The silver flecks had gone from his eyes, but his green eyes were red and glassy once again.

“Yeah, you were. You woke me up.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you, Clem.”

“So you weren’t just calling him an asshole and still ranting about the fact that Murdoch deserved it?” I asked.

Vinny looked at me curiously. “Well, yeah, I did. But I was talking to myself, Clem. Dad isn’t even here.”

“What?”