Chadwick's POV
I caught her wrist mid air. It felt brittle, fragile nothing like the iron willed woman she pretended to be. I twisted, just a fraction, and her eyes widened.
"Don't you dare," I whispered. My voice wasn't loud, but it was lethal. It was the sound of a man who had finally decided the cost of keeping secrets was too high. "Don't you dare hit that boy's face."
She pulled back, her chest heaving, her face a blotchy, ugly mask of shock. She looked at me, then at Danny, then back to me, her breath hitching.
"You... you don't know what he is. You don't know what's happening in this house. He is sick, Chadwick! He is gay. He wants to run off to Paris to be with men!"
I stared at her. A dark, jagged bubble of laughter clawed its way up my throat. It was so absurd, so perfectly,
