Timing was everything. Dylan knew it the instant he formed this crazy notion of ending the rest of his father’s miserable life. With Scott gone, Dylan’s chance of following through increased. No matter what consequences he faced in killing his dad, he’d take them in stride and not have any regrets.
He peered at the entrance to the room as Anna remained in the archway. She swept wayward strands of hair from her face, then shrugged off Mason’s grip. His hand fell to his side and clenched.
“I’m fine. I promise. Go back upstairs.” She whispered the words as she touched his cheek.
Dylan marveled at the tender display of affection. His father didn’t feel the same. A faint grumble resonated from his direction. His dad was jealous of Mason. It showed in the way his knuckles whitened from grippi
