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in his unattractive, Irish accent. “How was school?”
    I resisted the urge to use profanity. “Fine.”
    “Good.” He nodded then took his attention to the oven. I noticed his fly was unzipped. I cringed in absolute disgust. “Darling, will you check the chicken?”
    “Yes, Charles, I will.” Mom wouldn’t look at me. She turned toward the sink, plucking out an object I couldn’t quite see. It looked like a broken wine glass. Is that what I heard crash?
    Oh, man . I leaned against the entryway, feeling sick. I didn’t want to deal with this right now. Actually, no, that was a lie. I had several ideas on how to deal with this. I had few doubts that I could crumple Charles Finney. I did, after all, have three years of Training behind me, and once I’d taken down a Khmer dragon with three heads. I could easily take down Mom’s perverted, human boyfriend.
    But Mom would throw a fit. And I needed to set an example for Jess should she suddenly come downstairs, since these two obviously weren’t setting one. Mom bent down to pull a pan of olive-oiled chicken from the oven. As she did so, Charles’ eyes honed in on my mother’s thin frame, on her lower half.
    Well, I’d tried to be civil.
    “Dude, screw off,” I said. “Seriously, you pervert, that’s how you stare at a plate of meat not a full-grown woman with kids!”
    “Jared!” Mom snapped her head up, nearly dropping dinner on the floor. Her eyes were large, silently asking me, what the hell is wrong with you?
    I rolled my eyes, leaving the kitchen. If I stayed any longer, I wouldn’t just crumple Charles—I’d kill him. Snatching my bag off the floor, I stomped across the living room, heading for the stairs.
    Mom mumbled an apology to him, saying she’d be right back. A second later, she stomped across the carpet, coming after me. “Jared Theodore Ferlyn!”
    I didn’t turn back. Bouncing up the stairs two at a time, I curled my hands into fists. It was all I could do to not spin around and rampage back into the kitchen, like a bull that’d seen red.
    A hand caught my shoulder, turning me around. I glared down at my mother, whose round cheeks had become rounder than usual. Her face tended to puff up when she was mad. I could almost feel steam coming off her head.
    “What is wrong with you?” she spat. “Why are you doing this to me?”
    “Oh, so sorry if I ruined your early homecoming,” I snarled back. “What, did the bedroom get so boring you had to bring him into the kitchen? Shit, I make food on that counter, Mom!”
    “You clean up your mouth or I’ll wash it out with soap, young man! You will not use profanity when talking to me. We were not doing that . Jeez, Jared!”
    “Come on, I saw what was going on. I’m not blind or stupid, thank you!”
    I stepped back from her, glancing down the hall. The door across from mine was closed, covered in butterfly stickers and animal posters. The room behind it was unusually quiet.
    I lowered my voice. “God, Mom, grow a moral compass. Jess is home and everything! If she’d have come downstairs and seen you with that mole rat . . .”
    I trailed off. One, because it made me want to puke thinking about my mom and that perv doing anything like that , and two, because I couldn’t imagine how traumatized my little sister would be. She wasn’t even a teenager yet. Hell, she wasn’t even a tween . If you said “birds and the bees” she’d point out one of the blue jays in the yard or the wasp nest above the back patio.
    Mom sighed, dragging her hands through her curls. Dark circles, darker than usual, rounded her eyes. “Look, I get it. You don’t like Charles, and I’m sorry.” She hesitated. “But I can’t turn him into Nick—”
    “Oh, here we go.” I threw an arm in the air, turning toward my room. Something in my heart tore open as she spoke of Dad, of the man who’d disappeared on us some years ago. Instantly, I went into shut-down mode. This conversation was