Page 95 of Vicious Deception

At some point, I slowly began to remember the events of my kidnapping. There was a man—his face is still a blur—and then I cut him with a knife, but it wasn’t enough.

I gulp, wondering if there’s still blood in the kitchen. Will being in the apartment freak me out? God, I hope not. I have enough shit haunting me as it is.

Still, my steps are slow as I walk down the hallway to my apartment. I’m half hoping Rhett will catch up with me, even though I know his conversation with Finn will probably take a while.

You’re fine,I chide myself.You can handle this.

And I can. After all I’ve been through in the past couple months, walking into my apartment will be child’s play.

I insert the key into the lock and turn it, taking one last deep breath before pushing it open. Instantly, I freeze.

The lights are on. Fresh fruit sits on the kitchen counter, unfamiliar shoes are by the door, and one of the windows is slightly open.

My mom stands from the couch, quickly followed by Thomas. My chest squeezes as I grip the doorframe. I think it’s the only thing keeping me upright.

“Mom? What’re you doing here? And why . . .” My gaze flicks to Thomas. “Why is he here?”

“You haven’t answered your phone in weeks!” She rounds the couch, her arms wide open as she steps toward me.

Does sheactuallythink I want to hug her? I knock her arms away once she’s close enough.

“Seriously?” she asks. She sounds hurt, but I can’t find it in me to care.

“What’re you doinghere?”I ask again. “In my apartment.”

“How else was I supposed to make sure you were okay?” she asks. “You haven’t been answering my calls, and when I went to the coffee shop, your coworker told me you quit! This was the only way I knew how to contact you.”

My fingernails dig into the wood of the doorframe. “How long have you been staying here?”

My mom glances at Thomas. “About a week?”

“And why ishehere?” I grit out.

At that, Thomas steps forward. He raises himself to his full height and crosses his arms over his chest—his go-to intimidation tactic. “Am I not allowed to be worried about my daughter?”

“Stepdaughter,” I snap. “And you can be worried from afar. Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“Not until you talk to your mother.” He makes his voice deeper than it usually is. “You’ve been disrespectful enough.”

“I’vebeen disrespectful? I’ll treat her with respect when she stops trampling over my boundaries. Now get out.”

“No.” Thomas steps forward and yanks me into the apartment. “You need to—fuck!”

I kick him in the shins as hard as I can, jerking my arm free of his grasp.

“Wren!” Patricia gasps. “Don’t hurt him!”

Fury flares inside me, bright and white-hot. Even now, afterhe’sthe one who made things physical, my mom still sees me as the one in the wrong. I barely have time to dwell on it.

Thomas straightens, the pain on his features morphing into anger. “You little—”

He reaches for me, and I’m just able to twist out of his reach. I grab a photo frame and fling it at his face. This is different than the sessions with Rhett in the gym. Everything is moving faster, and panicked thoughts are racing through my head.

The look in his eyes—it’s the same one they held right before he threw me down the stairs all those years ago.

You’ve killed two men,I remind myself.You can handle your stepfather.

But Thomas is advancing toward me fast, his hand curled into a fist. The only reason I was able to kill those men is because I took one by surprise and the other was restrained.