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Home is Where the Heart Is (Home #1)

Page 2

by Cheynee Filkov


  “Nice save,” she said admiringly, flicking his chin with her fingers.

  “Bro! We’re doing keg stands in the kitchen and seeing who can avoid throwing up the longest, you’ve gotta come join!” Kane slurred to Tate, stumbling over his own feet. “Bring your girl with you too.”

  Isabelle rolled her eyes at Kane’s offhand remark. Tate Stevens had been her best friend her entire life since their fathers had been childhood best friends. Tall, athletic and beautiful, with shaggy brown hair and bright green eyes, he was eye catching to almost every girl around them.

  Unfortunately, since they were only three months apart, Isabelle had seen Tate through his ‘eating mud’ and ‘awkward primary school’ phases so he was just Tate to her, although their close knit and incredibly affectionate friendship had people constantly questioning the context of their relationship.

  Pushing Kane in the other direction with a look of disgust, Tate turned his attention back to Isabelle.

  “We can leave right now, rent a movie and still salvage this night.”

  “I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing!”

  He eyed her tiny black skirt and grey button up shirt with a low V neck.

  “I don’t know that you can call that dressed, Belle.”

  “Stop playing the big brother role and relax a little, OK?”

  She pulled Tate over to a log by the fire bin, relieved to be off her feet again.

  “Thank you so much for coming with me tonight, I really appreciate it.”

  Slinging his arm around her shoulders casually he relaxed into her body. “Yeah well, you’re going to owe me.”

  “I’ll start making it up to you right now and wing woman the shit out you,” she suggested.

  “I don’t know that I’ve ever heard a more terrible idea.”

  “Shut up and let me work, OK? Take off your grandpa goggles and have a look around, do you see anything you like?” she asked gesturing around them.

  Tate looked around the party where various girls were already half undressed and attached to different guys or giggling in groups.

  “Oh yeah, so much class to choose from,” he responded dryly.

  “I resent that!”

  Isabelle looked up to see the only two people aside from Tate she felt even remotely close with. Sylvia and Hannah both looked at Tate with eyebrows raised but Sylvia’s attitude doubled Hannah’s.

  Tate raised his hands in surrender as he settled himself on the log. “I didn’t mean you!”

  Sylvia, clearly already drunk, flicked her brunette hair out of her face and made herself comfortable on Tate’s knee, tracing shapes on his cheek with her bright pink manicured nails.

  Hannah shook her short black hair at her best friend and perched next to Isabelle.

  “So, you came.”

  Isabelle looked at Hannah in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s a good chance to say goodbye to everyone.”

  Sylvia smirked. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the party host would it?”

  Isabelle tried to shrug casually. “No, I’m here for you guys.”

  Hannah snorted. “Cute.”

  “Yeah, come on Belle, did you honestly think that anyone would believe you didn’t come here for Jason?” Sylvia prodded. “Let’s be honest, aside from Tate there’s only one other person you would actually care enough about to say goodbye to.”

  Isabelle didn’t have a comeback. She was totally busted and if they could see through her in all of three seconds then she was going to need a different tactic before facing Jason.

  “He’s been asking for you all night,” Sylvia whispered.

  Isabelle whipped around to face her. “He has?”

  Sylvia smirked back. “Yep.”

  “Oh…cool,” what was she meant to say to something like that?

  Sylvia laughed. “He’s in the kitchen.”

  “I didn’t ask,” Isabelle responded a little defensively.

  “You didn’t have to,” she replied with a lusty wink.

  Knowing there was no use pretending anymore, Isabelle smiled shyly. “Ok, I guess I did come because I wanted to…I don’t know…”

  “One last steamy night together?” Sylvia asked with a hint of theatrics.

  Isabelle stiffened. “No, I’ve never… we never…”

  “He’s a piece of shit that ruined Isabelle’s trust and broke her heart,” Tate said harshly. “And if he thinks for one second he can use Isabelle because she’s leaving, then he’s dumber than I thought.”

  “Whoa, feel the hate!” Sylvia crooned ruffling Tate’s wavy brown locks.

  Isabelle patted Tate’s leg. “Don’t be nasty Tate, that’s not why he called me here.”

  “Then why did he?”

  Isabelle opened her mouth and then closed it. She honestly didn’t know, and hadn’t really given it any deep thought. All she saw was a chance to see Jason before she left and didn’t really think much past how memorable she needed to look. In hindsight she could see how the plan could use some improvements.

  Sylvia wrapped her arms around Tate’s shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek.

  “Don’t be so grumpy. Let the girl have some fun.”

  Rising to her feet, she tugged him up. “Come on, I want to dance.”

  He sighed. “Well, I can’t deny a beautiful girl one dance.”

  Sylvia grinned broadly. “You think I’m beautiful?”

  He shrugged. “Aren’t you?”

  His tone was more factual then complimentary, not that Sylvia could tell the difference.

  Isabelle watched Sylvia lure Tate away, making full use of her long legs and limber body. Isabelle definitely felt too sober for this, so she turned away and took a long sip of her drink, hoping to calm her nerves even a little.

  “Why aren’t you off dancing too?” she asked Hannah.

  Hannah rested her head on her shoulder. “I can’t leave you alone. Besides, this is probably the last time I’ll get to see you since you leave on Monday, right?”

  “Right,” she agreed. “I can’t believe how fast time has gone.”

  “I know! We’re going to be graduating this year, how crazy is that?”

  After a beat of silence, Isabelle quietly admitted. “I’m really nervous about moving.”

  “Are you kidding me? You get a whole fresh pool of hot guys to choose from, you’ve basically hit the lottery!”

  Isabelle tuned out a little bit as Hannah began to babble on and on about the lack of male talent the school had to offer. She nodded every so often and feigned enough interest to keep Hannah going but really, she was stuck in her own head again.

  She hadn’t lied when she’d told Tate that she was going to miss having a place to fit in, but now that she had a moment to herself and had accepted her leaving was inevitable, it didn’t actually seem like the worst thing in the world. She was comfortable here, had enough friends she enjoyed spending time with, but it was all pretty superficial except for her family and Tate. In fact, if Tate wasn’t going to be left behind she might even be relieved that she had the chance to reinvent herself somewhere new.

  “You look very serious,” Jason whispered into her ear, in what he probably thought was a seductive voice.

  Both girls jumped at his sudden arrival which made Jason chuckle and ruffle their hair.

  “I spent an hour straightening that,” Hannah snapped, turning around and smacking him over the head.

  He smiled and raised his hands. “I am very sorry for wrecking your hair.”

  “Now I need to go and fix myself up, no one’s going to want me when I look like this!”

  “I’ll take care of Isabelle while you do that,” Jason told her, a smug smile pulling at his lips.

  Hannah looked between the two of them as if trying to weigh something up.

  “Its fine,” Isabelle told her quietly, appreciating the concern but wanting more than anything to see where this night could go.

  Hannah glared at Jason fiercely.
“I won’t be gone long.”

  There was both a promise and a threat in her words.

  “I’m not going to hurt her,” he told her defensively.

  “Yeah, right. Be careful,” she told Isabelle firmly before sauntering away, turning back to glare at Jason a few times.

  “She hates me,” Jason said simply as he took a seat next to her.

  “Well, you did mess her hair up and some girls find that unforgivable,” Isabelle replied.

  “What about you?” he asked teasingly. “Are you going to forgive me?”

  He must have realised as soon as the words were out, that there could be a double meaning to his question because he immediately went quiet. Isabelle let the silence drift between them, the tension saying the words they couldn’t themselves say. It was awkward. Being this close to him, sitting silently while the party raged on around them, was so freaking awkward. This was not a good start to her night, maybe she shouldn’t have come after all?

  “I miss you,” he whispered softly.

  Isabelle kept her eyes down, unsure if she’d heard him right.

  “Izzy? Did you hear me?”

  His hand landed clumsily on her bare knee. “I miss you.”

  She faced him then and took in his handsome face, framed with unkempt blonde hair and unfocused grey eyes. “You’re drunk.”

  “Doesn’t mean it’s not true,” he countered.

  “Jason…” she began.

  “No. Stop. Just stop. I just want to be with you, ok?” he told her as he moved closer, the stench of beer covering him like a wet blanket.

  “Be with me?” she whispered, trying to work out how the hell they’d taken a turn down this road and if she was game enough to continue down it.

  “Just for tonight, can we drop the bullshit and hang out?”

  He tilted her chin up with his finger, hands gentle on her face.

  “Come inside and we’ll talk, ok?” He sounded so reasonable and she had definitely come here tonight so they could talk through their past and move on without regrets.

  Isabelle looked over to where Tate was laughing as Sylvia attempted to get her pin thin body to twerk. She didn’t want to miss out on her chance with Jason, but Tate would kill her if she just disappeared.

  She remained frozen in indecision.

  “I’ve just gotta tell Tate where I’m going, ok?” she told him, rising from the log and moving towards her friends.

  Jason grabbed her arm and pulled her back a little more forcefully than she expected.

  “Don’t worry about that,” he crooned as he gestured to his friends. “I’ll take care of it.”

  He turned and whispered to his best friend Thomas who looked surprised at first but then smirked at Isabelle and with a nod walked away.

  What the hell was that smirk about?

  “The boys are going to take care of it for us. Come on, we’ll head to my room and we can watch a movie, talk, whatever you want.”

  Isabelle hesitated, torn between the two guys in her life but, with a final tug from Jason, she gave in and followed him back inside, vowing to leave with Tate like she promised if he came looking for her.

  *

  The stench of alcohol was nauseating and so distracting, Isabelle was having a hard time focusing on the movie, with Jason watching her and breathing heavily on her face.

  Why had she even come in here with him? He had avoided any and all questions she’d tried asking about their relationship and just watched her like a dog ready to devour a steak.

  She shivered as his breath settled on the side of her neck.

  “You look so hot,” he whispered, turning her face from the TV screen to his.

  Isabelle smiled at him, the foolish butterflies in her stomach going crazy. “It’s the dim lighting.”

  “No,” he slurred slightly. “You’ve always been so hot. It’s been killing me the past few months not being able to slide up against that body of yours.”

  Isabelle smiled tightly and didn’t reply, because what the hell was she even meant to say to that?

  She was regretting more and more coming into his room with him. He was definitely way too drunk for reason and the movie was almost forgotten. Soon she wouldn’t have a distraction from the hungry look in his eyes.

  She shifted uncomfortably, pulling her skirt down a little, feeling a little exposed in her short outfit alone with him on his bed. She thought she had loved him and she wanted to lose herself in his arms just one last time, but her stance on sex hadn’t changed.

  “I don’t want you to leave,” he purred as he shuffled closer and closer to her.

  Isabelle stiffened. “Jason, you’re drunk.”

  “You’re sexy,” he whispered, pressing his lips roughly against her cheek.

  Isabelle was beginning to feel too warm and trapped, confined by his big body. She knew that if she didn’t put a stop to it, this moment was going to get away from her and she would end up with nothing but regret.

  “We’ve been gone awhile, I’ve gotta get back to Tate,” she told him, her voice wavering a little.

  His hands grabbed her waist hard for a moment but then quickly relaxed.

  “Stop worrying so much about Stevens, he can survive for a couple of hours. I just want to be with you, I’ve missed you so much.”

  His hands pushed at her skirt as his lips moved sloppily on her neck.

  “Jason, what are you doing?” she asked, her voice starting to hitch. “I don’t want this.”

  “Sure you do, baby,” he slurred, smacking away her hands that struggled to push him away. “You love me, right? You want to be with me as bad as I want to be with you. I’ll be gentle, I promise, I’ll make you feel real good, you want that, don’t you?”

  “No,” she said, her voice thick with nervousness. “I don’t. Get off me. I want to go home.”

  “You said you loved me, I’m just giving you a chance to prove it,” he purred.

  Yeah, she had told him she loved him. She could still feel her traitorous heart pounding away and pining for him, but she wasn’t going to sleep with him tonight, and not just because he was drunk. It was because in all their time together he had not once said he loved her back, and she wanted her first time to be all about love and building that connection.

  “Jason, I’m serious,” she said firmly, trying to push him off. “Let me go.”

  “Just relax,” he whispered. “Let me give you your going away gift.”

  “No,” she cried, kicking out from under him so that her knee hit his stomach. “Is that what this is about? You…you get to just take what you want and then I leave so there’s no strings attached? Tate was right about you.”

  She pushed away from him and shuffled off the bed, her knees weak as she stood trembling in front of him.

  “You bitch,” he snarled, moving swiftly to lunge across the bed and grab her before she could bolt.

  Fear pressed down on her and cut off her voice as his hands roughly yanked hard on her shirt until it ripped, buttons falling across the floor and bouncing away.

  Hot tears fell relentlessly down her face. She struggled uselessly and shook her head

  backwards and forwards as he lowered her to the floor, his grip iron tight.

  She lay trembling on the floor crying, terrified with rough, uncaring hands pulling at her clothes as the hard floor dug into her back. She tried covering her chest with her hands, feeling too exposed and afraid that if he touched her again she was going to throw up, but he held her still, her body immobilised as his hand crept up her skirt and stroked her inner thigh.

  Oh god, he was going to do it, he was going to take everything from her - the one thing of hers she had left, and he was going to tear it away from her just as he had done her heart and trust.

  “Jason, please,” she managed to choke. “Not like this.”

  He stopped and stared down at her, his eyes were grey pools of emptiness looking right through

  her. She had never seen this side
of him, never even guessed at this cruelty he was capable of, and in that moment she had no idea who he was. She began to realise after being together nearly six months she had never truly known him.

  “You made it this way. I would have been gentle, loving even, but you wanted to play rough,” he told her coolly, pulling her shirt further away from her chest, exposing her black bra. She lay paralysed beneath him as he moved his hands below her underwear and touched her in places no one had ever been before as his lips worked clumsily on her neck.

  Something hard was pressing against her inner thigh as his fingers violated her and she felt the true meaning of helplessness. She was very ready to retreat into her mind and lock herself away from this moment when the noise from the party picked up and Isabelle heard footsteps come closer.

  This was it. This was her only chance help

  “Help!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Someone, please help me!”

  It came from nowhere.

  One minute she was screaming, and the next her voice had been cut off and she was

  choking on blood as a fist came down on her face.

  “Shut up!” he screamed as he smacked her again, driving his point home. “Are you stupid? Shut up!”

  The hits finally stopped as he watched her with blind fury, panting.

  “Why’d you make me do that?” he whispered, shame colouring his cheeks as he eased away

  from her slightly, his body not pinning her down as firmly.

  Get it together Isabelle, she told herself. This is the last chance you’re going to get to save

  yourself and you need to take it.

  With a deep breath she gathered all the energy she had left and hit him hard in the nose so

  that he reared back in pain.

  Scrambling to her feet, Isabelle kicked him in the groin to make sure he wouldn’t follow her and then she ran on shaky legs out of the room and back into the party where everyone was oblivious to what had almost happened.

  “Belle? Tom said you went to get ice?” Tate called in surprise.

  Isabelle froze for just a moment and then she began to run like she was in the Olympics, too ashamed to face Tate and desperate to get home and scrub at her skin. She lost one of her shoes in her panic so her gait was uneven but she didn’t care. Her sole goal was getting away and going home so she could collapse in private. Thank god she only lived a couple of streets away.

 

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