When the Past Finds You

When the Past Finds You ADRIAN J. SMITH EREKA PRESS Copyright © 2023 by Adrian J. Smith All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Cover by Cath Grace Designs To those who have experienced significant loss in their lives and who have struggled to grieve it…our grief may not look the same, but the pain is still there, no matter how many years have passed, and you are not alone. Author Note If you would like to sign up for my newsletter to receive weekly emails with life updates and new book updates, check out this link here! You’ll get a free short story when you do sign up! Chapter One 2010 “Why are you such a fucking bitch?” Wil’s voice charged through the full room. Lynda stared at her, hard, as if Wil had hurled a glass to shatter against a wall instead of spitting a few curse words. Shit. I meant to say that better. Wil cringed inwardly, her face still a blank stare of fury as her stomach swam with shame. She couldn’t believe she’d said that. Grandma was going to skin her alive. But defending her best friend was a necessity. She wouldn’t stand aside and let Isla’s stepmom be such a toxic force any longer. She was fed up with listening to her friend complain and be hurt by this woman. It had to stop. “Wil, I will give you one minute to apologize before I send you home. This is my house, and I won’t be spoken to like that.” How she remained so cool and collected, Wil never knew. Wil gritted her teeth, bearing down and refusing to budge from her point. For the last two years she had seen this family slip into the depths of hate, and she couldn’t stand by and take it anymore. It was all Lynda’s fault that they were falling apart. Wil directly stared into Lynda’s caramel brown eyes, challenging her, like any good sixteen-year-old would. The silence was thick, building on top of itself as each second passed, making it harder to breathe by the second. But Wil wouldn’t give in. Isla and Aisling deserved better than this idiotic woman who had no idea what she was doing. Preparing to launch her next volley of attacks, Wil clenched her fists and opened her mouth, ready to say again exactly what she thought of Lynda’s parenting—only this time better. She could manage to make Lynda understand these girls needed to be cared for instead of ignored, couldn’t she? “Get out.” Lynda’s command was low, her steely gaze hardening as the muscles in her face took on a different form. Fear consumed Wil. Every nerve in her body told her to high tail it out of there and get home before her grandma slapped her silly for being such a damn idiot herself. “Why are you so mean?” Wil whisper-yelled, insisting that her point be made even though she knew she’d already lost the battle. Fuck, I have to get better with words. “Get. Out,” Lynda repeated, her jaw clenching with each syllable, but her sexy poise remaining. If Wil pushed hard enough, would she strike out? Would Lynda hit her? Scrunching her nose at the thought, Wil dared herself to take it one step further. One more try to get her damn point across to make a dent in Lynda’s thick skull. “They’re not even your kids.” “Enough!” Lynda wildly boomed through the room, her voice a raw force that rushed over them. Wil jerked, stunned by that kind of rage from a woman who was always so put together. Isla and Aisling stood to the side in the pristine white kitchen, their eyes bugging out of their heads. Lynda pointed at the door, her finely manicured finger showing the way to Wil’s demise. No way would her grandma not find out about this. No way would Wil get out of it without getting her ass paddled. Wil stepped forward, but Isla was quick and snagged her wrist, holding her back. Lifting her chin to stare at her forever friend, Wil held still, frozen on the spot. “Get out of my house. Now.” Lynda’s breathing was heavy, her cheeks pink with well-contained fury. Wil didn’t want to admit defeat, but she had no recourse. Lynda had refused to answer her questions, refused to take the bait, and all Wil wanted to do was throw something else at her to prove her point—she was an awful mother. Wil lifted her eyebrows, rolled her shoulders, and knocked her chin up a notch or two. “Quit being such a fucking bitch.” “Wil,” Isla pleaded, tightening her grasp on Wil’s wrist. She hated that she couldn’t stop herself enough to calm down and have a reasonable conversation. No matter how many times she tried, Wil couldn’t make Lynda understand. They were left in the same place they’d been in for the last two years. Most days, she wished she never had to see Lynda again. But to be friends with Isla, she had to—at least for now. “I’ll see you around, Isla.” Making the only decision she could to leave the argument with what little privilege she had left intact, Wil turned on her toes. Her black boots left skid marks on the white tile as she practically skipped her soon-to-be red ass toward the front door and slammed it shut for good measure. 2023 Confidently, Wil walked from her small office into the conference room. The tension in the office had been bad for the last few months but felt worse today. Something just felt off. Her shoulders were rock solid from stress as she stepped into the empty room. These were her people, and it had taken her eight long years to