CHAPTER 6

WINTER

I followed my dad's furious gaze up the stairs, trying to figure out what had triggered his outburst.

At the top of the stairs, Zion stood with a nonchalant air, his shirt hanging open and his ripped jeans unzipped, giving him a dishevelled look. Before he could speak, my attention was drawn to the barely dressed girl beside him, her arms draped around him in a casual embrace.

“Why are you shouting, stepdaddy?” Zion drawled, his voice oozing with casual indifference. He stood there, a picture of nonchalance, his shirt hanging loose and his jeans ripped in a way that seemed almost deliberate.

His tone was laced with a smirk, and his eyes, half-lidded, flicked with an almost bored amusement as he leaned casually against the stair railing. His posture and the way he spoke were a clear defiance to the gravity of the situation as if he were completely unaffected by the chaos unfolding around him.

"Who the hell is she?" Dad's voice thundered.

Zion grinned, unfazed. "Oops, pardon my manners," he said with a smirk.

"This is Cherry, my fuck buddy," he said, his tone nonchalant. "Say hi, Cherry."

The girl smiled and waved, her voice cheerful. "Hi, everyone!"

Despite the situation, Zion’s eyes met mine briefly, and I saw a flicker of something—whether it was guilt or just awareness of my presence—before he turned his gaze away with a shrug, clearly unbothered. His laid-back attitude only heightened Dad's anger, as he owed his eyes tight and clenched his fists.

For reasons I couldn't quite pinpoint, seeing him with that girl stung more than I expected, especially considering how drunk he had been the night before.

When had she even shown up? And why was this affecting me so much? I knew he had a reputation as a playboy; the rumours about him circulated even back home. Yet, despite knowing all this, I couldn't shake the feeling of hurt and disappointment that lingered in my chest.

“Jenny, I want that girl gone. Now!” Dad seethed, his face flushed with unmistakable rage.

I glanced at Jenny, whose expression revealed no shock or surprise as if this was a familiar scene. Her eyes were cold and cutting, like shards of ice. If looks could kill, Zion would have been sprawled on the floor in an instant.

Jenny gave a curt nod and turned her steely gaze towards Zion. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips tightened into a thin line. “Zion…” she started, her voice trembling with barely contained exasperation.

Zion’s reaction was a mix of defiance and casual disregard. He barely flinched at Jenny's fiery look and instead shifted his posture to a more relaxed stance, his arms draped carelessly around Cherry.

“Oh come on, Mom,” he drawled with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It’s not like this is the first time I’ve had someone over.”

Cherry giggled, leaning into Zion with a starry-eyed smile. Her laugh seemed almost mocking in the tense atmosphere.

“Besides,” Zion continued with a nonchalant shrug, “I was feeling pretty lonely last night, and Cherry here made me feel… appreciated.”

Cherry, draped over Zion with an adoring grin, chimed in, “So very appreciated.”

“Zion!” Jenny's voice rose sharply, her frustration evident as her patience reached its limit.

Dad stormed off, his anger evident in every step he took.

Jenny’s frustration was palpable as she glared at Zion, her voice rising. “Zion, this is not the time for jokes. Get rid of her, now!”

Dad stormed off, muttering under his breath, clearly fuming. Zion’s gaze finally shifted to me. The casual smirk on his face faltered for a brief moment, replaced by a flicker of guilt or perhaps realization. He looked away quickly, turning back to Cherry with a forced nonchalance.

"Cherry, I appreciate the night, but it's time for you to leave."

Cherry’s smile faltered as she gave Zion a final, wistful look before heading out. Meanwhile, Zion's face, once again, masked any genuine emotion as he met my eyes briefly. The look of guilt or regret in his eyes was fleeting, quickly replaced by a cool detachment.

"But Z... what about breakfast? Aren't you going to feed me? I'm starving from all the fun we had last night," Cherry said, her eyes flicking toward me with a sly grin.

"Cherry, not now," Zion snapped, momentarily glancing at me before turning his attention away.

"ZION!" Jenny's voice pierced through the tension, her frustration clear.

"Cherry, I said get out," Zion commanded, his tone harsh and unyielding as he glared at her.

"Alright, Zion. Whatever," Cherry said, her voice dripping with indifference. "I had a great time. Call me if you’re ever lonely again." She leaned in and gave him what seemed like a lingering, sensual kiss before casting a final glance at me. With no trace of embarrassment, she sauntered down the stairs, and out the door.

Jenny massaged her temples and turned back to Zion, her frustration clear.

“What’s the matter?” Zion asked, his expression untroubled as if nothing was amiss.

“Go change into something decent, for heaven’s sake,” Jenny snapped, her frustration evident in her tone.

“These are decent,” Zion shot back, his tone defiant.

A tense silence settled between them as they exchanged stubborn glances. Jenny, clearly exasperated, stepped in to defuse the situation.

“Zion, please,” she pleaded, her voice tinged with exasperation. “Just put on a shirt, for the sake of decency.” Her eyes, filled with a mix of frustration and desperation, locked onto him, hoping to break through his casual defiance.

“Why did stepdaddy disapprove?” Zion mumbled, his voice dripping with disdain.

“Zion, we’re going out for breakfast—a family breakfast,” Jenny replied, her tone brooking no argument. “So don’t start with me. I’m not in the mood.”

“A family breakfast? What a fucking joke,” he retorted, his frustration palpable.

“Zion, please…” Jenny’s voice wavered with a mixture of pleading and exhaustion.

He sighed heavily, a dramatic exhale as if the very idea was beneath him, before trudging up the stairs.

The sudden push for this ‘family’ thing felt forced and overwhelming. Given how Zion typically steers clear of any family gatherings, I was surprised he even agreed to this one. It all felt a bit too much, too sudden, and I shared his sense of bewilderment.