The door slammed so hard the walls shook.
I froze halfway up the stairs, caught like a deer in headlights as his voice thundered behind me.
“Where the f**k do you think you’re going?”
I didn’t even have time to hide the heels dangling from my hand. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs—broad, dark, and furious. My stepfather. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, veins bulging in his forearms, jaw clenched like he was about to crush glass with his teeth.
“I. . . I was just. . .”
“Just what?” he cut in, climbing the steps with slow, deliberate menace. “You thought you could sneak out of my house? After I told you no?”
My stomach dropped. He had told me no. No parties. No boys. No leaving after dark. But I’d gotten dressed anyway, hoping to slip out unnoticed. Big mistake.
By the ti
