Page 232 of Good Touch, Bad Touch Collection

First, they turned up with Robert, my stepbrother, and that was a big mistake. Daddy remembered about him pushing me into the punch bowl. And about him making comments about my weight.

Well, let’s just say my stepbrother has two fewer teeth than he used to, and I don’t think he would have been jerking off with his right hand for a while. Daddy made him see the error of his ways, then sent him back off in the chopper with the knowledge that if he ever returned, he’d be leaving in a wooden box.

That didn’t go over too well with Hoover.

Not only had it taken him and Mom years to get past what Daddy told them about my real father’s disappearance, but the insult of having his son humiliated like that meant that he started making some serious threats.

And Daddy called his bluff. Put a revolver on the ground between them and said if his little brother was man enough, he’d make a move for it. But he’d better not miss.

The revolver stayed where it was, because without his men around him, Hoover’s nothing. He’s a coward, and I think Mom started to see that.

Not that she’s left him. She wouldn’t. But I’ve heard things aren’t so rosy in that garden.

But that’s her problem, not mine. That’s something I’ve learned since I came here. It was hard to come to terms that my mother is imperfect and will likely never change. But Sebastian helped me to understand, family doesn’t mean we suffer for their deficiencies.

He’s my family now. Stern, of course, but I’ve grown more, never felt more secure and proud of myself, because of what I’ve achieved under his structure and love.

“That one?” he asks as we stop at the window display of another art store.

I pull my lips to one side. “Let’s see what else they have inside?”

He nods. “Good girl.”