Pieces of Me

Chapter 2

Spencer

I waved an awkward goodbye at the Uber driver when he caught me staring. He shook his head and backed out of the driveway. I seriously considered chasing after his car and begging him to take me back to the airport, but then he was gone. I was stuck.

What was I doing here?

Here being my father's doorstep. He had a large, white house with a wrap-around balcony and a turret. An actual freaking turret. It was... stately was the only word that came to mind. And it was way, way nicer than anything I'd ever lived in. Mom and I only made it out of our apartment and into a modest two-bedroom condo a few years ago. It made my stomach turn, and I was happier than ever I hadn't had breakfast this morning.

I could have lived like this. Or at least, I could have lived somewhere nicer than those dingy apartments with three locks on the door that somehow never felt quite safe. And it wasn't my mom's fault. No, it was all his.

Randall Murphy.

My father.

Anger made my stomach churn, or maybe that was just hunger. I'd been too anxious to eat this morning. I pulled out my phone to call another Uber, but the door opened to reveal a man about twenty years my senior. A man who looked too much like me.

"Spencer?"

The fact that he had to ask made me feel even sicker. What am I doing here? Out of sheer awkwardness, I forced a smile that probably looked more like a grimace and stuck out my hand. "Yup, that's me."

God, why had I offered my hand to shake? I didn't want to touch him. I didn't want to be here. Why was I here?

He took my hand and used it to tug me in for a hug that I squirmed against. He held up his hands and released me, stepping back. "Sorry. I'm Randall. Your father."

"It's okay. Um, hi." Was it okay? I didn't think so, but I didn't want to start a fight on his doorstep.

His eyes flicked to my suitcase, which was really my mother's. It was massive and yellow and had been a bitch to get here, since it barely fit into the trunk of a small sedan. "Why don't I take this up to your room?"

"Thanks," I said, even though I still had half a mind to leave. But I'd come this far, and I'd probably regret it if I didn't at least give my father a chance. Because even though I didn't trust that he was really looking to turn over a new leaf and make a connection with me, it was worth some time and potential heartache to find out for sure. Up until now, our lack of a relationship was all his fault. Not taking this opportunity would have made it a little bit my fault, too.

Randall lifted my suitcase and I had to bite back a smile when he visibly struggled to get it up the single step and into the house. He managed, then looked at the sweeping staircase in front of us with trepidation that made me want to laugh. Have fun, sucker. I packed a bunch of books. My suitcase weighed as much as a middle schooler, and he'd have to hold it at a very precise angle to make it up that stairwell without banging it against the wall or the bannister.

I left him to it, taking a look around while he struggled to hoist my luggage. To the left of the entryway was an elaborate dining room that led into the kitchen. To the right was...

A group of people, all of whom were staring at me.

I froze and joined in on the staring session, but when no one said anything, I got too awkward and offered a little wave and smile. "Hi. I'm Spencer."

I thought I could identify two of the three people who were watching me. There was an older woman who had to be my stepmother, Kiara. She was regal-looking. She was tall, with a long neck and proud, strong features. Her skin was possibly the darkest I'd ever seen, which made the whites of her eyes look impossibly bright, and her hair was twisted into elaborate braids that wrapped around her head in intricate patterns. She was beautiful, but the coldness in her gaze made me want to take a step back.