Three Times Torn

by Felisha Antonette

  “It’s not too far out?” Taylor asks.

  “No. It’ll be fine in case you all can’t come right back,” Roseland relays.

  Wait. Not come right back, Nathan?

  “It’s okay, Sparks. I intend on us returning. But we always have to prepare for the unexpected.” Nathan tries to comfort me in his modulate tone. It doesn’t work.

  Natalia stands. “Okay, then that’s it. I thank you for your time.” She dismisses the room.

  Nathan and I stay behind as the room empties, leaving us with Natalia. Roseland closes the door behind him. The abundance of everyone’s presence eases away from me, and I sigh, slumping my shoulders. I’ll have to figure out a way to control the way others affect me; it’s uncomfortable to feel so many people at once. Rather, it’s uncomfortable to feel other people period.

  “Mom, don’t start,” Nathan kicks it off.

  “Son,” she sighs. “We are—”

  “We are nothing.” He cuts her off. “Do you see what’s going on here? And you force me into helping someone who you know doesn’t deserve to be helped.”

  “It is not up to us to judge who deserves and who does not deserve, Nathan.” She shifts uncomfortably. “I know you’re upset, and I know you’re hurt. I’m sorry this all happened. Your father, Rose, and now Taylor. Then you’re constantly looking over your shoulder at your cousin and his mate with those two trying not to kill you two. I can’t relate to how you feel, son.” She takes a breath, chest visibly rising and falling. “You have been dealing with this type of thing your entire life. People turn on you, including family. But you have to be the bigger person not to turn on them.” She looks for Nathan to respond but he remains quiet. “What Taylor did is forgivable, and we’ll make it right. You know she loves you and Tracey, and she would never allow someone to take Tracey from you because she won’t lose you. Her intentions were in vain, and she may not have known what the outcome would be, but understand, Nathan, she is in the same boat. Writhing in pain from that monster pulling her to him. It won’t be too many days, and he’ll be sending out two at a time, one for Tracey and the other for Taylor.” She waits, and Nathan still doesn’t speak. “Sometimes,” she drags persuasively, “a mother has to do and say things to get her children to behave the way they should. I understand if you feel I may have stepped beyond a point that you’ve retained for yourself. And I understand if you feel it is better for the two of you to have your own home. But that does not mean I want you to.” She stands, running her hands over her blouse to straighten it. Nathan stands with her. “I’m sorry, Nathan.” She opens her arms, and he hugs her. The moment his arms wrap around her, she breaks, crying against his stomach. I sit here while he soothingly rubs her back but never takes back his words.

  After she gets it all out, I stand, and she steps over to hug me. I embrace her and apologize for things taking an unexpected turn for the worst. It wasn’t my place to do so, but I felt she needed it. We leave her, closing the door behind us. A crash sounds against it. I put my hand on the door, hearing things fly through the air, smashing against the walls and maybe windows. There are a few crashes of something big falling to the floor, and what sounds like something ripping off the walls. My hand falls to my side when I lift my gaze to Nathan’s.

  Distressed, he looks away from me to the floor. “Let’s go to your house. Check on things there,” he offers.

  Mom’s cooking when we walk through our always unlocked door.

  “Under the circumstances, I think you should consider talking to your mom about the door being open.”

  I nod, agreeing. “Mom?”

  “I’m in the kitchen,” she returns.

  “Hello again,” Nathan greets sarcastically, taking a seat at the breakfast bar.

  “Hello you two, how was the remainder of your day?”

  “Good,” I lie, sitting next to him.

  She looks over her shoulder at me, asking, “What happened with the man at your school who you mistook as your father?”

  “Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, no. Um, sorry. Wasn’t him.” I shake my head, removing the babble. “Sorry I bothered you at work.”

  “It’s no bother; I was concerned. But no, honey, he is not here.”

  “Thanks for reiterating that, Mom. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “You probably fell asleep in class and had one those realistic dreams you’ve been having lately. Do you think we should schedule an appointment to see Dr. Phisher?”

  “What, Mom?!” I shrill. “No! I don’t need to see the doctor. I just. . . I just thought I saw him. No biggie. I was wrong; you were right. Let’s not get all doctor-drastic. I’m fine. I just need to get a little sleep.” And a lot of Nathan. “That would help.”

  “Fine, Tracey. But if you are feeling too much pressure or overly stressed, you better let me know. We don’t want them to resurface.”

  “K, Mom. Promise.” Oh my gosh, how embarrassing! “Can we drop this?”

  Whenever you’re ready, Sparks. Nathan pressures me, insisting I must tell him about my inconvenience.

  I’ll never be ready. Drop it, please.

  Mom moves a skillet from the stove to the hot pad. She looks over her shoulder at me and quickly turns away when our eyes meet. She knows I don’t like her to bring that up. I get she’s comfortable and know I’m comfortable with Nathan and us discussing things around him, but that’s not one of them. “So, Nathan,” she starts, swaying the conversation. “When do we get to meet your family?”

  “Err,” he stutters, caught off guard. “Anytime you’re ready, I suppose.”

  Considering Mom won’t talk Dad out of moving, I feel like welcoming the elephant into the room. “Why worry about meeting his family if you want me to move and not be with him?”

  Nathan nudges my arm, and with a side-eye gives me the don’t be an ass face.

  “Just saying, Mom, you shouldn’t waste your time.” I pick at an orange I don’t plan to eat.

  “Tracey, do not go there. What if you two actually end up staying together?”

  “What if?” I blurt, cutting her off.

  Her eyes narrow and lips purse, replicating the same expression Nathan gave me. I roll my eyes. “I think it would be appropriate for us to meet. You spend some time over there, and you spend time over here, Nathan.”

  “Pay Sparks no mind, Karen. That wouldn’t be a problem at all. Let me know when you’re interested in meeting them, and we can set up dinner for a meet and greet.”

  I glance at Nathan from the corner of my eye. Now they’re your family, huh?

  Don’t, Sparky.

  I throw my head back. “Ugh!” I grump. “What can I do?”

  Nathan and Mom look at me as if I’ve lost it. I think I have lost it. People trying to kill me, Nathan wanting to leave his family—which he said he’d never do, Dad wanting to move, Mom and her mixed feelings about everything, and Roehl. I think it’s all gotten to me, and I’m cracked. Like a chicken.

  “An egg, Sparks. Cracked like an egg,” Nathan corrects.

  I crinkle my nose at him and narrow my eyes at Mom’s scrutinizing glare. “What?” I chirp, walking away.

  “I’m calling the doctor, Tracey!” Mom jokes.

  Nathan follows me into the family room. I lie on the couch, craving a nap. Nathan lifts my legs and sits, laying them across his. “You’re tired, babe?” I ask, watching him slouch onto the cushions and his eyes partially close.

  “You have no idea. I never realized before how much my brain has to work with two minds. If that makes any sense.” His hand slaps down on the right side of his face and roughly drags down his cheek. “My head hurts.”

  “Dinner will be ready shortly,” Mom announces, joining us. She takes a seat on the other couch and studies us. “Why are you two so quiet?”

  I almost scowl at her question.

  “Tracey?” She crosses her legs, not meeting my eyes. “Are you and Nathan having sex?”

  Oh. My. Wow. Staggered, I’m froze
n, wide-eyed. She so misinterpreted that look. I open my mouth to speak but snap it closed. Searching for a little help, I look to Nathan but find none with him leaving his eyes closed and head remaining laid back on the couch. He slowly shakes it, confirming he’s not getting into this one.

  I sit up, clearing my throat. “Are you asking that question?” I may be able to tell Mom anything, but this is a conversation I’m avoiding until the end of the world. She’d probably flip out if I told the truth.

  Mom shrugs, giving me a fixated stare. “Seems like you do, Tracey.”

  She would know.

  Eww. Why would you say that? I don’t want to think about that.

  I mumble nonsense and look from her to a silent Nathan.

  “Your silence is answer enough, Tracey.” She turns on the TV, breaking the heaviness that’s stuffed itself in the room. “I am going to say this and walk away to finish dinner. This is for you too, Nathan. Be smart and careful. Do not get pregnant,” she adds, getting up and leaving the living room. “Your Dad is already going crazy about you two. He’d kill all three of us if you have a child,” she mutters under her breath, way too low for me to be able to hear.

  I slowly lie back down. “Oh gosh. That was too awkward.”

  Nathan crosses his arms, slumping further on the couch. Never opening his eyes, he says, “My life was adventurous before I met you. But now, it’s full of surprises from both our families.”

  Clear my head please. “I’m going to take a nap,” I tell him, throwing a pillow over my face.

  I’m addicted to Nathan’s ability to control my mind. Only when it’s in my favor, and he’s not using it against me, that is. He can avert my thoughts, changing my dreams, making it easy to sleep without the inconveniences of this life worrying me. Without him, Roehl creeps into my dreams or flood my subconscious in the worst way imaginable. It’s embarrassing the directions those thoughts lead. Other nights, our past knocks down my blocking and memories of Rose bursting into chunks cloud my mind or Mr. Newcomb standing over me with the eagerness of my death etched deep in his blood-red eyes, Natalia’s plea for his resurrection, or the worst; Glen laying in my arms on her last limb. If it weren’t for Nathan, I’d relive these events every night and would probably be more cracked than he and mom already think I am.

  Sparks. I’m kissed. Sparky. I’m kissed again. Wake up.

  “Mmm. I love that.”

  “I know.” Nathan pulls me up into a sit. “Let’s eat your mom’s dinner.”

  “K.”

  Mom’s set the table and placed food on our plates. “Did you two have a good nap?” she asks, putting down filled glasses before sitting.

  “Yes, Mommy. Thanks for asking.” I cheerfully reply.

  She gives me a peculiar stare. “Yes, Tracey. You are having mood swings.” She and Nathan laugh.

  “Not funny,” I scold, sitting down while Nathan pushes in my chair.

  “Nathan, your parents raised you well. I appreciate that. I’ll have to thank them,” she says as he sits. “Your father will be home this weekend, Tracey. I think we should meet then if that is okay.”

  “That’ll be fine, Karen. Thanks for dinner, by the way.”

  “Good. You are always welcome. Will your family come here or should we arrange to go there?”

  “There,” Nathan and I blurt.

  She nods. “O . . . Kay?”

  “Sorry,” Nathan starts, “I have a big family, and we’d need the space.”

  “I have heard you have quite a clan living under that roof. Is that your car outside?” she asks before eating the food from her fork. “I was under the impression you drove a truck. The Chevrolet.”

  “No, ma’am. It’s my sister’s.”

  “Taylor, right?” She remembered! I knew she cared.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay,” she chuckles. “I almost thought you drove a Mercedes.”

  “I do. It’s in the shop, same one as Taylor’s, except mine is silver.”

  Mom’s kind smile fades. She looks at me, and I look down at my plate, shoving a fork full of food in my mouth. I knew Nathan’s car would be a problem, going back to the fact that they think he’s too advanced for me. There’s so many conversations about him and his endeavors I avoid. Drinking from my glass, I glance past its rim at Mom. She narrows her soft gray eyes and sets her fork down. Before she can peep a sound, I bring up graduation, changing the subject. She knows Nathan helped me with my speech and we’ve been practicing it at least twice a week. I’ve been trying to keep the school we decided to go to under wraps as punishment to Dad, which, because Mom will tell him, I’ve been holding it back from her, too. She hates I am, but they’ll get over it.

  Like most nights, after dinner and clean up, the three of us land in the family room, watching a movie. Tonight’s choice is one of Mom’s and my favorite Adam Sandler flicks. It feels good for the three of us to hang out. Mom has warmed up to Nathan and is becoming more acceptable to us. I love that she’s at least trying. Actually, she’s done more than try.

  Leaving for her room, Mom bids us good night and Nathan heads out. I jump in the shower, washing off today. Johann was a shocker. Roehl’s sending people after me now. And, they can impersonate my family, maybe even my friends. It’s just as Taylor had said. I’m forgiving of what she did, but her knowing this about Roehl makes me question what it was she wanted out of it. She may have gotten her father out of the way, but created something far worse for her and us.

  Surprised to see Nathan lying on my bed when I walk in my room, I push my door closed and turn the lock. “Hey, I thought you had something to do tonight.”

  “Hey, beautiful. Forget about that. You feeling better?”

  “Yes,” I lie down beside him. “How are you?”

  “Fine.”

  “Good.”

  “Your mom’s asleep.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Nathan leans up on his side and throws his arm around me. Dipping his head down on my chest, he inhales. “This soap smells amazing on you.”

  “Un-hun?” I hum, itching for his kiss. Memory brings the feeling to the surface of my skin, recalling the sensation of his lips placed where he hovers. He draws back and sits at the end of the bed. “Whoa, whoa. Wrong direction,” I say, knitting my brows. “I’m over here.”

  Looking past his shoulder, he glances at me and nods.

  I crawl to him, finding the kiss I left on his lips earlier today. He’s distant, returning my kiss because I’m kissing him, not because he wants to. Holding me back, he says, “Your mom wants to meet my family,” as if the thought just occurred to him.

  Averting to kiss his neck, I hum, “Un-hum.” softly moving my lips against the column of muscles. He’s showered, his soap coating his skin heavily. It goes well with his aura, making his scent explode in my nose. I inhale, taking in the inebriating aroma.

  “What do we do?” he drawls.

  “We can talk about it later,” I mumble, my lips otherwise occupied.

  “Your dad too.”

  I lean back, impatiently glaring at him.

  His thick eyebrow slowly lifts, and he fixes me with calm, yet, intense eyes. It’s a jaw-dropping expression, but his look says I’m being pushy, so I back off, biting back the hunger for more. “Are you nervous?” I ask, seeing this worries him.

  “Not nervous. It’s just something I wasn’t expecting. Your mom’s cool, but your dad on the other hand. I thought it’d be something that I’d have to initiate or ask of them. Not the other way around.”

  I shrug, nodding. “Me too. But it’s a good thing. I’m glad they’re passed you being too advanced for me.”

  “Yeah. . .” I watch his eyes zone out as he thinks about something, but he doesn’t follow up with more.

  I lean back in to kiss him, and he moves out of my reach, making me fall short. “Crap. . .” I mutter quieter than I can hear.

  “I get a two-sentence conversation, and you’re back at it, huh?” he says w
ith amusement in his tone, but a really, Sparky look in his squinted eyes.

  “Sorry. I’m Sorry.” I lean back in, trying to hold back but can’t. He doesn’t move away, and I lighten my eager kisses, trying to restrain my aggression. I’m far too aggressive right now.

  He breaks away again. “You think so?”

  “Ugh, Nathan. I’m sorry. It’s getting worse, not better. Just. . . You know. . . And then it’ll settle down.” I shift my gaze to his lap and then back to his eyes. “Maybe it will settle down.” I hope. “If we do it mentally and physically.”

  “I told you you’d be like this; completely erratic over me. But no. . .” he sings. “Somebody just needed to bind,” he teases, pulling me onto his lap. “And now, here it is, you’re craving me like Twinkies.”

  “In the worst way possible,” I add pleadingly.

  “Tisk, tisk, tisk.” He smirks, washing me in his seducing, ocean-blue eyes.

  Shut up, I jest, kissing him more intimately.

  “Miss Bossy,” he says, adjusting us to lie down.

  I crinkle my nose. “Sorry-not-sorry.”

  “Hum um.” Stripping off my shirt, Nathan trickles kisses over my chest, his tongue slices down between my breasts and subtly, oh so delicately, he takes the peak of my left C cup in his mouth.

  Dipped in a pond of pure impulse, my body hums, demanding I do something about this heightening urge. I reach for his shorts. Their waistband slips between my index and middle finger and I ease them down. Nathan leans back on his knees, out of my reach. He looks behind him, at the window, eyes swirling chocolate. They zone, concentrating on something as he adjusts my bra.

  “What?” I ask, trying to figure out why the sudden change.

  “Olar. He’s outside,” he drawls, occupied and unfocused.

  “Why?” I push a finger against his jawline, trying to turn his head to face me.

  He flicks his gaze to me but doesn’t turn. “He needs to talk about something.”

  “It can’t wait until tomorrow?” I ask, somewhat concerned about why Olar would be stopping by so late. “Why didn’t he just call you?”