Read Fated for Free Online Page B

with all due respect, you haven’t seen what I’ve seen—you have no idea what she’s capable of!”
    And then, “So those are my choices? Really? Sixteen years of parenting and that’s what I’m left with? And excuse me for asking, but how can you be so sure? I hate to say it, but Django was just seventeen when you lost him!”
    When she goes quiet again, I’m just about to bust in—just about to let her know I’ve heard every word—or at least Jennika’s part—and I’m not the least bit happy about it. They’re deciding my future without my consent. Not stopping to think that I might want a vote.
    My arm outstretched, about to grab hold of her shoulder, really let her have it, when she turns, her smeary, red-rimmed eyes meeting mine, not the least bit surprised to find me lurking behind.
    The phone dangling between long skinny fingers with bitten-down nails, her smile defeated, voice gone hoarse with unspent tears, as she says, “Daire, it’s your grandmother. She really needs to speak with you.”

four
    “Close your window so I can crank up the heat—it’s cold out there.”
    I glance over my shoulder long enough to shoot Jennika a scathing look, but I’ve been shooting her so many of them over the last few days it washes right over her. She’s grown as immune to my scowls as she has to my protests.
    I bring my knees to my chest, allowing my heels to hang off the edge of the seat as my index finger prods the small square switch next to my armrest.
    Pushing, then letting it go.
    Pushing until it’s almost there—then lifting my finger and watching it pause.
    The window rising and halting in annoyingly short little spurts, but she ignores that as well. Preferring to divert her attention to more pleasant things like driving within the lines and fiddling with the rental car’s radio—correctly assuming her refusal to acknowledge my game will bore me into obeying.
    I force the window all the way up and shift toward the door until I can no longer see her. My shoulders hunched, arms hugging my knees, trying to make myself smaller, more distant, pretending that I’m not really here.
    I wish I wasn’t here.
    My forehead pressed flush to the window, I blow a small patch of foggy circles onto the glass as I say, “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”
    It’s about the hundredth time that I’ve said it. The hundredth time I’ve shot her a disparaging look to go with it. But to her credit, she just looks at me sideways and says, “Trust me, I can’t believe I am either. But since neither of us could come up with a better solution, this is the solution that stuck.”
    “You realize you’re abandoning me?” I gnash my teeth together, fight to get a grip on my temper—the fear I can’t shake no matter how many times we rehash it. “You do get that, right?” I twist in my seat, stare hard at her profile, but she just keeps her hands on the ten and two position, and her eyes on the long stretch of road that meanders ahead. “You’re putting me in the care of some crazy old man, so I can go live with some crazy old lady you’ve only met once. Once! And even then it was only for like ten seconds at my dad’s funeral. I mean, what kind of woman bails on her own son’s funeral?” I glare, challenging her to explain but only allowing a few seconds to pass before I’m at it again. “And yet, here you are, speeding across state lines so you can dump me off and be rid of me once and for all. Nice job, Jennika. Seriously. Way to parent.” My hands clench so hard my nails bite into my palms, leaving deep red crescent marks that take a while to fade.
    That’s it, I tell myself . Do not say another word. It’s a waste of your time. Her mind is made up.
    But I can’t commit. I’m far too wound up and it’ll only get worse. Despite the fact that it doesn’t really matter what I say or do at this point—doesn’t make the slightest bit of difference either way.