Page 103 of Irresistibly Wicked

His father finished measuring the lumber, said, “Perfect,” and set down the measuring tape, which his grandfather snagged to remeasure the wood. His father shook his head. “Shauna, it’s nice to see you, darlin’.”

“It’s nice to see you, too.”

His father lifted his chin in Zander’s direction. “Something going on, or did you come to scarf dinner?”

Zander’s heart hammered against his ribs. “I went to see the doctor today.”

“I thought he cleared you at your last visit,” his father said.

“He did,” Zander said, his throat tight. “But I wasn’t exactly honest about how I was doing.”

“Are you okay?” his mother asked.

“He’d better be, or that doctor and I are going to have a talk that won’t end well for him,” his grandfather said.

His father looked like he was holding his breath, his worried eyes trained on Zander, but he didn’t say a word.

“I’m fine, mostly. I…uh…” He swallowed hard. Shauna hooked her index finger around his pinkie, a quiet show of support he didn’t like her knowing he needed, but he appreciated the hell out of it just the same. Any other time, her reassuring smile might have undone him, but tonight it gave him the push he needed to stand up and take his due. “Sometimes I forget the names for things, but the doctor said it’s normal and should go away with time.”

“Oh, honey.” His mother stepped closer. “That must be so scary. I wish you’d said something. Is he sure you’re okay? Does he have any idea how long it will last?”

“He’s sure, and there’s no timeline. Everyone’s different. Apparently I’m lucky. People who have cognitive difficulties of any kind, including dyslexia, prior to a TBI typically have a harder time than people who don’t. He said many of his patients in my situation need more time to collect their thoughts and often become much quieter to avoid conversation.”

Shauna looked at him with a question in her eyes.

“I didn’t mean to leave that part out with you, Angel. I was just caught up in the relief of it all.”

She smiled. “It’s okay.”

“Why would you lie to us about something that important?” his father asked sharply.

Zander drew his shoulders back and stepped forward, unlinking his and Shauna’s fingers. “Because I knew you would keep treating me like I couldn’t do my job, and everyone else would be watching me like a hawk, looking for more deficits. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be the one who’s on everyone’s radar all the damn time?”

“You brought that on yourself, Zan,” his father said. “They watch out for you, because before the accident you were reckless, and you never watched out for yourself.”

“Yeah, I was reckless sometimes. I’ll give you that. But we both know that’s not why they watched over me. They did it because before we found out I had dyslexia, when I was struggling in school to be half as good as they were naturally, everyone thought I was stupid—”

“What?” his father fumed. “No one has ever thought that. If anything, you were too smart for your own damn good. You were the cleverest of them all. You were always outsmarting us.”

Zander scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

“He’s telling you the truth, honey,” his mother said. “You always knew how to fly under our radar and make us think the things you did were our ideas. By the time we realized what was happening, you were off doing whatever it was, and doing it with our unintended blessings. We had no choice but to ask everyone to keep an eye on you.”

Her words hit hard, but he didn’t fully believe them. “You’re just saying that because I was trouble.”

“Now you listen to me, son,” his grandfather said, stepping forward. “I’ve got no dog in this fight, but I’m not going to listen to you dismiss the truth. I’m thinkin’ you don’t remember the night we all thought you were abducted.”

“Abducted?” He did not remember that. “What are you talking about?”

“You were eight years old and mad at your parents for one thing or another, and you told them you were going to live with me and your grandmother. Well, your father said you weren’t going anywhere but to bed. So you, the kid who was always six steps ahead of the rest of us, asked when you could live with us. Your old man said, Sunday, thinking you’d forget by then, since it was only Monday. Well, Saturday night at midnight, you packed your backpack, snuck out your window, and took the shortcut by the creek to our place. When your father let the dogs out at three in the morning, he checked on all the kids. Your bed was empty and your window was open. They called out the troops, and everyone went looking for you. They found your sneakers by the creek. Turned out you took them off so your parents wouldn’t get mad that you got them wet, and you forgot to pick them up. You got our hidden key out from under the rock, went into the guest room, and went to sleep.”

“That was a terrifying night,” his mother said, the emotion in her voice making Zander’s stomach twist. “We had everyone looking for you. Family, police, the club, neighbors.”

“Didn’t anyone look at Grandpa’s house?” Zander asked.

“No,” his father answered. “You and I’d had fifteen other disagreements by then. Plus, I’d had fifty others with your brothers and sister. The only thing I was thinking about was that someone had stolen our boy. That was one of the worst nights of my life.”

Zander’s throat thickened.