Flower in the Flame (The Scattered Series - Book #1)

Chapter One

1 | Nadia Spencer

Maybe I'm delusional. Maybe the last of my sanity has finally been chipped. Or maybe Carter Armstrong was never the man I thought he was.

The wind blows at my hair as he drives us to his parent's house. It become a force of habit to have the window open for long car journeys, my mother always kept her window down, said the cool air diffused any of my step-father's anger. I think she's a fool for thinking so, but the rustling of the wind in my artificial brown hair allows thick waves of comfort to roll over me.

Carter's hands are firmly set on the wheel, he's gripping it so hard that his knuckles bleach. His eyes are squinted against the morning sun, the green of those eyes has always looked more vibrant when cast with the natural light of the sky. His blonde hair is pushed back and cropped at the sides. Sighing, I grab his sunglasses from the glove box and hand them to him. 

"You know I can't stand your dad, Carter." And yet we'd be staying in his parent's house for a month. His mother, Madeline, said she missed her 'little boy' and it seemed hardly worth travelling all the way to Oakland, California from Aspen, Colorado for just a few days. So, we're staying for a month. With his suffocating mother. With his dickish father.

Trees pass quickly, all blurring into one other in a nauseating way. "Nadia," Carter is using that tone again, the one where he wishes for me to shut up. "Dad isn't that bad. He's just rough around the edges." Rough around the edges, AKA addicted to cheap spirits and always ready to mutter some insult at Carter. "Seems the years haven't smoothed those edges yet." I mumble.

Me and Carter have been dating for four years now. We were high school sweethearts, but when we left to start our lives, we called it quits. Then, a few years later, we bumped into each other. He took my number – quite easily with that charming smile – and it only took a few months for us to start dating. It was great, at first, I felt how Rihanna wanted to feel: like the only girl in the world. Now, this relationship feels like a chore, a drag. All it takes is Carter to get a few sips of alcohol down him and he's High King Jerk. Him and his father together? All I know is this will be hell for me. Maybe I should do myself a favour and jump out the car while it's moving.

Silence insufferable, the only real solution is the radio. So, I flick it on. St. Jimmy by Green Day comes on, loud and obnoxious. Oh, did I mention Mr Pratstrong is also in a Grammy winning band? So, to sum my delightful lover's father up: he is a self-righteous, egotistical drunkard who hates his son yet is happy to coax Carter into getting some whiskey down his gut.

Let's just say that drawing upon the conclusion to change the station is easy to come to. "Oi, Nadia." Carter grabs my wrist, "leave it on, I like this song." I bark a laugh, a genuine laugh. "You like your own dad's song?"

Mental note – Carter Armstrong's red flags: His dad is a prized pillock, his hair is way too perfect and he likes his own dad's band. I'm sure if I saw my own dad's face, I wouldn't like it, so if he made music I would loath it. Even if it were the best music the world has ever heard. 

"Oh, please, Spencer." Oh, so now it's the last name game. "Not everyone is a prissy princess like you who can't bare to like anything other than herself." And here we go again. I think another inch of my sanity just chipped away like fingernails picking at flaky paint. "You do talk some shit, Carter." My retort is laced with boredom. It's always the same fight. Frankly, this man needs to start getting more creative. I think that puts Carter at a 0 and his father at a 1 in the 'who's less of a dick?' competition, because I'm sure Mr Lyrics could dream up a more creative argument than the same old 'You only care for yourself, Nadia. You're self-obsessed, Nadia. Sorry not everyone can be as perfect as you, Nadia.'.