I explained to my dad where I was going and what I was doing. He made Colton promise to bring me home and not let any harm come to me.
It was a beautiful day as we left the house, the sun was shining brightly. Matt was parked across the street, leaning against his SUV, a black Toyota 4Runner, engrossed in his phone. He looked up when we crossed the road and I was in a bear hug before I even said hello.
“Have you been outside this whole time?” I laughed as he squeezed me to death.
“Yeah, Cole said you would probably be in a temper. I decided it was better out here…safe in the sunshine,” he chuckled. Still in his arms, I asked him to come in with me to talk to Connor. Usually everything the guys did had to be approved by Colton. If you were an outsider, you wouldn’t notice the casual glance looking for the barely perceptible nod of approval or shake of the head. When I asked for Matt’s help he agreed without hesitation, ruffling my hair in affection as he confirmed he wouldn’t leave my side. I truly adored this man.
Matt was slightly shorter than Colton by an inch maybe, but still over 6’, hair longer and styled in that annoyingly perfect messed up way that was just so effortless looking. His eyes were dark blue, he had what my mother had always referred to as a strong jaw.
I climbed into the back seat and tried to pretend that this was just another trip with the guys. But as we crossed into the rich part of town and into the gated community where the Dawson’s lived and I looked up at the ostentatious mansion, my heart started racing. I was pretty sure I was three gasps away from a panic attack. Colton turned to me and asked if I was ok. Matt had been looking at me with mounting concern for about half the drive over, only – surprise – I hadn’t noticed.
Before I knew it, I was handed a brown paper bag. I looked at it and looked at them, scrunched it up and bounced it off Colton’s head. Matt laughed as Cole narrowed those amazing green eyes at me.
As we went in, we were met by Jake Dawson. I stood slightly back, knowing that he didn’t like me. I’m pretty sure he thought I was after their inheritance or something equally pathetic. He sneered at me as he looked me up and down and I took a step closer to Matt.
“Have you come to grovel?” He directed at me.
“Dad!” Cole’s voice had a warning in it. It wasn’t a tone I used when I spoke to my parents. Not even my mother and that was saying something.
“I’ve come to talk to him – to tell him to stop acting out. He’ll hurt himself or someone else. He wouldn’t be able to cope with that,” I said quietly.
“One boy’s already in the hospital. I don’t think hurting others is a problem for him,” Jake Dawson said coldly. “Hurting them for you, may I add?”
I glared at him and was about to retort when Colton took a step in front of me, subtly shielding me from his father’s cold glare.
“That’s enough. Arielle’s done nothing wrong. You know she didn’t realise he was like this.”
Jake grunted in disbelief then simply turned and walked away. The guy was stone cold; I had no idea why his sons were so devoted to him.
Your dad’s a douchebag, I thought. Cole turned to look at me with a raised eyebrow. Ok – so maybe I’d said that out loud. Fantastic. Matt smothered a snicker. I reached back and he clasped my hand in support and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Cole turned back, choosing to ignore the silent support system Matt had going on. We went out to the back pool area looking for Connor. It was almost the onset of winter, but the pool was heated and it was Connor’s favourite place to hang out in this huge mansion.
He saw me immediately and leapt to his feet; he was around the pool in seconds and I was in his embrace before I could blink.
“Ari, I’m so sorry, you have no idea how sorry I am. White’s an arrogant ass and when he said those things about you, I saw red, Lil Bit. I didn’t even know I was hitting him till Ricky was pulling me off him.” Connor still hadn’t let me go. I didn’t want to be so close to him. I wriggled free and took a step back. I glanced back over my shoulder to make sure Matt hadn’t left me. He was standing a few steps behind me. Cole had perched on a stool at the bar and was watching impassively.
Connor noticed them and frowned. “Yeah guys can you clear off, I need to be with Ari. Alone.”
Matt didn’t move. Cole looked calmly back at all three of us. Connor’s frown became a scowl.
“Jesus guys, can you give me some privacy with my girlfriend?” He snapped, taking a step forward.
“I’m not your girlfriend,” I whispered. I didn’t look at him, but I felt him freeze.
“What?” The cold arrogance of his father spoke through him then. “What do you mean, you’re not my girlfriend.” He said it like he was daring me to repeat it. He was looking at me like I was beneath him. I could feel it.
I looked up into his face and took a breath to steady myself. “I’m not your girlfriend. I don’t want a boyfriend who puts people in the hospital because they share my sandwich, or look at me, or say hi to me in the store.” He took another step back; his face was hardening, and his eyes were looking at me like I was a stranger.
“It’s not like that, you’re being melodramatic.” He was cold. I felt ill again.
“No Connor, you put someone in the hospital! You’ve done this before, they say; my friends are scared to talk to me. Who does that? You can’t control me, Connor, I have a life and I can’t have that life with you in it when you act like this!” My voice was heated and the fact that he wasn’t looking even slightly apologetic was making me angry.
“You’re overthinking things. C’mon Ari, you don’t even talk to those people, these so called friends you’re mentioning. You never have, you don’t care about anyone. That’s why I liked you to start with – you’re cold just like the rest of us. Only we matter Lil Bit. The rest of them are nothing.”
My head was spinning. Was this really happening? Is this how he really saw me? Was this how others viewed me? I looked at Matt and saw how sad he was for me, but he didn’t say anything to dispute that what Connor was saying was wrong. I was going to throw up in the poolhouse. I don’t think I had ever had that thought before and it was weirdly funny. God…I was hysterical. That’s all I needed. Hysteria and vomit. If I didn’t calm down soon, I’d be getting taken to hospital. Maybe put in the same room as Jason. Ha! That would show his dad. A bubble of laughter was threatening to escape. I needed to get it together. A cool hand touched my elbow and I felt myself calm down. I knew it was Colton without looking.
“Connor, you’re being cruel. No one at school thinks Ari is like that. We most certainly don’t. Your actions have scared her and rightly so. Nobody likes to be controlled and you’re trying to control her. She was never going to leave you for another guy, we’ve told you this a hundred times and you wouldn’t listen. Your own insecurities are what have brought you to this point. You have no one else to blame.”
His words were like a bucket of cold water to me, but to Connor it was like a match to kindling. I saw the rage break the ice in his eyes and he lunged for his brother. Matt had me whisked out of the way before the first punch was thrown and I realised – as I was held against his chest – that I was right. Cole could hold his own after all. Two punches later and it was lights out for Connor.
Cole turned and looked at me and Matt. “Take her home Matt, I better get this idiot to his room before he wakes up. It would be best if you probably weren’t here for that Arielle.” He sighed as he looked down at his brother. “Oh and for God’s sake, don’t tell your father or none of us will ever see you again.”
I didn’t even know what to say. I looked at him and again that something from earlier was in his eyes and gone again before I could identify it. Matt led me out, past the cold glare of Jake Dawson as he hurried to his sons, and back into the SUV. He’d put my seatbelt on and driven me home. He didn’t say a word.
“Is it true Matty? Am I cold and heartless?” I whispered. I felt a bit broken. I knew I was far from ok and I just cou
ldn’t seem to get a proper breath in my lungs to calm down.
“Of course not, Bit – you’re full of love and kindness. That’s why you’re the girl who gets away with sitting next to anyone, talking to anyone, not having a group. Everyone loves you, the girls want to be you, the boys want to date you. Unfortunately for Connor, that was the problem. It doesn’t help that you have no idea that you’re stunningly beautiful on the inside as well as out. Your complete unawareness is half the problem to be honest; personally, I think that’s half the charm.” He winked at me to soften the words.
Tears were running down my face and I couldn’t look at Matt. He squeezed my hand. I nodded to let him know I was ok. I think I thanked him for the lift and the support and then I was out of the car.
He didn’t drive off immediately, so when I heard the screaming from my parents fighting, I was tempted to run back and hide in his SUV, but it seemed that’s all I did: was hide. I straightened my shoulders and headed to my house. The door was flung open as I approached. My dad came charging out. I heard him mutter “evil bitch” “drink” and a few more curse words as he stormed past me, so agitated that he barely seemed to notice me standing there.
I looked back to the SUV. Matt was frowning and leaning out the window. I gestured for him to go, even though that was the last thing I wanted him to do. He looked hesitant and then I heard his phone ring – the distinct ringtone he had programmed for Colton, Avenged Sevenfold’s ‘Hail to the King.’ It was a tongue-in-cheek joke that infuriated Colton and made the rest of us laugh. Matt therefore refused to change it. It was so rare for Colton to lose his composure, so naturally Matt pounced on every opportunity. I nodded at him from the front door to my house as he took the call. He scowled. Then, with a final questioning look and a second nod from me, he drove off.
I entered the house and found my mother smashing the kitchen dishes against the wall, floor, table – any hard surface really. Broken crockery and glass were flying everywhere. I flinched as she screeched like a banshee. I saw the open bottle of whisky on the table. Half empty. I spotted an empty bottle rolling under the table. She was out of it. I ducked, narrowly avoiding a dinner plate as she flung it directly at my head.
“It’s all your fault. I never wanted you. Look at you, you stole my life, you stole my looks, you stole my husband.” I stole her husband? That was new. The rest I had heard many times before. My mother was Scottish, I don’t know what was in the water over there, but her temper was legendary in this house. My dad had been a foreign exchange student when they’d met, studying at the University of Aberdeen, for one semester in his second year of college. They met, fell in love, and within a few months, she was pregnant. Dad dropped out of school. Meanwhile mum – never mom, I wasn’t allowed to call her mom – had gained an American husband, who took his pregnant wife back to the States to start a different life. She was one of the school librarians in my school, so everyone knew her. Everyone thought she was sweet and lovely. They didn’t have to live with her.
“Yeah I know. You tell me all the time. I’m going to my room. Try to sober up before dad comes back.” I really was heartless after all. Matt had lied.
“Don’t you walk away from me you little bitch,” she shrieked at me. I should have kept walking but instead I turned around. She was standing there, wild looking, panting from the effort of throwing our kitchen plates and wineglasses around the room like Frisbees.
I looked her up and down in disgust. I didn’t like this woman. She’d always been cold and heartless. My dad loved me, cherished me even, but this shrew drained us both dry. I had no idea why he stayed with her. I would have divorced her years ago. Maybe I could see where she was coming from when she said I stole her husband... my dad had no time for her these days but plenty of time for me. Should I feel guilty that one parent loved me enough for both of them? My head was going to implode soon. This had to be the worst day ever.
“What – I’m the bitch?” I asked it sharply, coldly. Uncaring. She must have registered how much I didn’t care. She broke down into sobs. She crumpled to the floor like a deflated balloon and started crying. I was unmoved. I was as cold and unyielding as Jake Dawson was when he looked at me. I shuddered inwardly at the thought. Jesus – did we have something in common? The thought chilled me.
“You don’t understand how hard it is for me to look at you, when I only see her,” she sobbed. I literally had no idea what she was talking about. I was curious; I couldn’t help it, even though I knew I shouldn’t engage with her. I had to ask.
“Ariella,” she spat at me. “My angelic sister who could do no wrong, who was so perfect, who was as cold and heartless to me as you are.”
Ah the sister. She was my mother’s younger sister and had died tragically in a boating accident. They said I was the spitting image of her. I always forgot about her because she was never mentioned. It was weird really. My dad had insisted they honour her when I was born, but my mother had resisted. So instead of Ariella, I was named Arielle but would be known as Elle. No wonder my mother hated me.
“I partied the night she died you know. I was so pleased to be finally rid of her,” my mother continued. I was appalled. Who did that? Who admitted it to anyone, even themselves?
My mother looked away from me. She looked almost happy as she reminisced about what had to have been one of the most tragic nights of my Grandparents’ lives. “Your father loved her, you know, not that he ever told her...or me. But I knew. I could tell by how he looked at her. I knew she was starting to realise it too. The night she died, I went to him and I comforted him. It pleased me to know I was getting what she would never have.” She laughed. I couldn’t move. I felt glued to the floor, my eyes were wide and I knew I was shaking. Those hate filled eyes were trained on me again; I flinched at the loathing in them.
“Nine months later you were born. Even in death that bitch was messing up my life. I had to marry that pathetic excuse for a man and then I was stuck with a kid that looked like her and that he loved more than me. He only loves you because you look so much like her.”
I was frozen to the spot – her loathing for me rooting me to the kitchen floor like nothing ever had.
“Now I’m stuck here in this pathetic house with a pathetic man and an even more pathetic daughter. I wish I could die.” She reached for the bottle of whisky again. I loathed this person. This thing. Person was too good for her. I hated her.
“I wish you would do it, I wish you would just leave,” I said as I watched her nearly drain the bottle like it was water. I felt nothing as I said it out loud. I didn’t even react as she gasped. She hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t expected me to hate her too.
“I’m going to kill myself and it will be your fault,” she screeched, clambering to her feet and launching herself at me. I sidestepped. Colton would have been proud of how detached I was – how smoothly I had done it. She fell flat on her face. I almost laughed. I felt it bubbling under the surface and I stood there thinking. They both broke me, I’m broken.
She tried to get up, cutting her hand on the broken plates. I didn’t move. Again, she tried to force her way up, again she slipped and cut her arms on the plates and glass strewn on the floor. I didn’t move. She managed to roll over. She was bleeding, but I knew it wasn’t serious, just superficial cuts. It was the same as every other time this happened, even if this was the worst I’d ever seen her. She was the pathetic one, not me.
I finally reached down for her and although she fought me, I got her off the floor and back to the table. I went to take the bottle away and she snatched it from me. Then I felt a blow. As I fell sideways, I knew she had hit me on the head with it. I landed hard – and felt sharp cuts. I got to my feet. She was sitting back, almost lounging, hatred dancing in her eyes, the bottle dangling from her fingers.
“I hate you.” There. I had said it. I couldn’t take it back. She was drunk, but I knew she would never forget I had said it. I didn’t care. My head was pounding; I needed to get away
from here.
I turned to walk away. I was so tired – I needed to go to my room, call my dad and plead that we finally leave this hell behind.
“You’re no better than me,” she said from behind me. “I see the way you look at him when you think no one sees you. Connor sees it too. That’s why he hates you. That’s why he fights others. Because he can’t fight him.”
Colton.
I stopped, my brain screaming for me to ignore her, my feet wanting to move but unable too. I half turned back. I couldn’t look at her. Fear squeezed my heart.
“You know I’m right, I know you know. You can’t even look at me because we both know what a treacherous slut you are. You’re so hot for him any idiot can see it. But he doesn’t want you, so you settled for his brother. You’re a joke. Don’t you dare judge me you worthless little tramp. You’re no better than me.”
I could hardly see for the tears. It wasn’t true, it wasn’t like that. She was hateful, she was a liar. She would say anything to hurt me.
“I hope you go soon, so we can finally be free,” I whispered as I walked away. I walked up the stairs calmly and coldly.
I flopped down on my bed and rubbed my forehead. My skull was thumping where she had hit me with the bottle. The hateful things she had said – the accusations about Colton – had me questioning myself about my relationship with Connor. I felt a few tears run down the side of my face. I think maybe I cried myself to sleep. I woke up. I don’t know how long I had been asleep for, but I was furious. This was what she did. She messed with your mind.
I was going to go downstairs and scream at her and throw plates at her if I didn’t calm down. I started pacing. Then I noticed how late it was. It had gotten dark. Dad hadn’t come back. There was no sound from downstairs. Oh God, what if she had left the house? She had been bleeding; the neighbours would have called the police. She was hateful enough to say I had attacked her.
Indian Summer Page 2
