Dad laughs and shakes his head. “He’s such a flirt.”
“Yeah, Jared said it as a joke, but Tobias snapped at him saying how he’s not gay. But he was so angry. I thought for a second, he was going to hurt Jared. He didn’t, instead he left, but he seemed so angry.”
“He has anger issues.”
“I don’t know.”
“It wasn’t a question, it’s a statement. He has anger issues, and I don’t want my daughter hanging around a guy like that.”
“But he’s not like that to me. And now he and Jared are friends.”
“I don’t like this, Ivy. He’s only a young kid, and to show angry tendencies so early on, to me it’s a red flag.”
“I don’t know. I don’t think he’s violent, I think he might not like gay people. But then, that’s contradictory because he and Jared are now friends. And you and I both know Jared is openly gay and doesn’t try to hide it. Maybe he was having a bad day.” I shrug my shoulders, I’m truly questioning everything.
“Sweetheart, you’re seventeen and a smart girl, so I’m making this clear to you. If he lays one finger on you, I will hurt him.” Dad leans on the counter to make his point.
“I know you will. I really don’t think he would hurt me. When he brings me home, he’s super cautious. The feeling I get is he’ll protect me, not hurt me.”
“I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I’ll be watching him like a hawk. One mark on your body, and I will hunt him down and hurt him.”
My stomach roils with anxiety. It tightens, and releases. Tightens and releases.
I know Dad’s protective. I totally get it. He’s lost Mom, and now all he has is me. So he’ll protect me with every breath in his body. “I know.” I smile at him.
“Tell me about his grandmother, she sounds… different.”
“She is. I haven’t met his Mom yet, but Clara is so great. She swears… like a lot.” Dad laughs. “And she has two full sleeves of tattoos.”
“Like grandmother, like grandson.”
“Really?” I question Dad. “He only has one small tattoo.”
“Are you sure it’s only one? And if you say yes, then the next question will be, how do you know? So, choose your words carefully.”
Smiling at Dad I nod my head. “Yes, to my knowledge it’s only one. No, I’m not a hundred percent sure. Like I said, I’m taking it slow.”
Dad breathes out. “Do you know why he got the tattoo? I noticed it says ‘Stay strong,’ does that have any meaning to him?”
“I assume it does. He touches it a lot. I’ve asked, but he never really answers the question.”
“Maybe something happened. He said his dad doesn’t live with them.”
“Yeah, he told me his dad took off. He never talks about him. But I do know he’s really close with his Mom and Clara.”
“Is Clara his Mom’s mom or his Dad’s mom?”
“I’m not sure, I haven’t asked. I assume his Mom’s. Dad, you really have to meet her. She’s not like any grandmother I know. She won’t even let Tobias call her anything but Clara.”
“She sounds very spirited. Maybe we can invite them over for Thanksgiving. What do you think?”
A smile spreads across my face. “Yeah?”
“I mean you’ll have to cook the turkey, because as we know, I can’t get that right. But, if Tobias is important to you, I want to get to know him and his family.”
“I’ll ask him and see what they say. Thank you, Dad.” I leave my stool and walk around to Dad, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“Wanna boil the spaghetti?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Sure thing.”
I feel a sense of calm wash over me. Everything is okay. Azael is nowhere to be heard or seen.
Maybe this is the start of something new and positive. God, I hope so.
“Dad, Tobias will be here soon. Have you seen my Converse?” I call to Dad from my bedroom.
“Yeah. When I wore them last, I returned them to where I found them.”
“Smart ass,” I grumble back.
Sliding my jeans up, I fix myself in the mirror and make sure everything is looking okay. Getting down on my hands and knees, I look under my bed for my Converse. Instead, I see something small and shiny.
Damn it, a pair of manicure scissors. A sparkle catches my eye and immediately I’m drawn to it.
Tonight’s my date with Tobias, and my stress levels have been slowly climbing throughout the day. But I’ve managed to fight Azael off. He’s been quiet since I’ve shut him out, but now, the sparkle pushes me to catch my breath and derails my train of thought.
Lovely Ivy. Let me show you how much better you’ll feel.
Reaching for the scissors, my fingertips brush against the razor-sharp point.
One little cut.
I snatch my hand back, the overwhelming feeling of bliss already starting to etch its way inside me.
Let me play with you, Ivy.
Sitting back on my haunches, I stare at the scissors. One small cut, a tiny one will feel so good. But, no. I can’t let him influence me.
I crouch for a long time staring at the manicure scissors. A huge part of me wants to pick it up and cut myself. But there’s another part of me that’s challenging him and telling me I don’t need to cut. I fight with myself and my demon. I rationalize this in my head, trying to silence the part that’s screaming the loudest. I can’t cut. I have to get ready for my date with Tobias.
But if you cut, it will release the stress inside you.
Standing, I head over to the mirror again. “The stress is only there because of you,” I say to him through gritted teeth.
He laughs at me.
“I hate you,” I whisper.
I know. But don’t you feel more composed and in control when you cut? The blood releases, and your heart beats faster as you watch the first drops ooze out of the skin.
“Stop trying to influence me. I’m not listening.”
Then why are you responding?
“Go away.” My back straightens and I clench my jaw tightly.
He disappears as quickly as he appeared.
Sneaking a glance around the room, I notice he’s gone. I calm my mind and listen for him. He’s definitely gone.
Good.
Examining myself, I smile. I pull my hair back into a high pony tail, and opt to wear some tinted lip gloss. I’m not a make-up kind of girl. I don’t like it, because when I do, people tend to stare. And let’s face it, I’d rather blend into the background than call attention to myself and have eyes on me.
“Dad, have you seen my Converse?” I call out again as I head into the living room.
“They don’t fit me, so no, I haven’t seen them.”
“Dad… come on.” I rush around, knowing Tobias will be here any moment to pick me up. “Now, if I was Converse shoes, where would I be?” I tap my finger to my mouth as I look around the living room.
“Look in the mud room,” Dad says and goes back to watching whatever’s on TV.
“Why would they be in the mud room?” I ask as I nearly jog toward there.
“You’ll have to ask your shoes.”
“Funny, Dad.” As I open the laundry door, my Converse are sitting by the back door. “They’re here,” I yell.
Grabbing them, I go to sit with Dad so I can put them on. “Told you they were there.” He chuckles.
Once they’re on, I stand and get my purse. As I head back out to Dad, there’s a knock on the door.
My stomach twists with enthusiasm. I’m really excited for tonight… well the part where Tobias and I are going out for dinner. The party, not so much.
“I’ll get it,” Dad says as he stands and slowly walks over to the door.
“Can you go any slower?” I ask.
“Someone’s eager. Hmmm, I think I need to tie my shoe lace.” Dad pretends to check his shoes.
“I’m not letting him stay out there.” I make a bee line for
the door, and Dad runs ahead of me, pushing me out of the way. “How old are you?”
Dad’s laughing when he opens the door. “Tobias, good to see you again.” He holds his hand out to shake Tobias’s hand.
Tobias enters the house, and I gasp as I see him. Jesus, he looks so good. He’s wearing black jeans, and a gray t-shirt. The t-shirt stretches across his chest and outlines the muscled curves of his arms.
Butterflies flitter excitedly low in my gut. Suddenly, sweat coats my palms and I can’t wait for tonight.
I mean the dinner… not the other part.
“Hi,” Tobias says as he leans in to give me a kiss on the cheek.
Damn it. Why are my cheeks turning red?
“Hi,” I croak.
Get it under control, Ivy, I scold myself.
“Hi,” I say again with more confidence.
“You look, beautiful,” Tobias replies as he eagerly smiles at me.
“Tobias, a word,” Dad says, and leads Tobias out the front door.
“Dad, leave him alone,” I scold.
Dad flicks his hand up at me but keeps walking down the front steps from the porch.
“Sorry,” I mumble to Tobias.
“Hey, it’s all cool. Your dad’s probably going to give me ‘the talk’ about what he’ll do to me if I hurt you.”
Rolling my eyes, I grumble to myself. “Sorry,” I mutter again.
Tobias leaps off the steps and goes to Dad, who’s standing in the front yard with his arms crossed over his chest. Dad’s showing Tobias who’s the alpha. And surprisingly, Tobias’s body language is calmly accepting Dad’s dominance.
It takes only a few minutes, and I’m desperate to run down there to hear what Dad’s saying to Tobias. Instead, I stand at the door with my hands on my hips, waiting for them both.
They shake hands.
Then they turn and start walking toward the house.
“Did you play nice, Dad?” I call out.
Dad makes his way up the steps and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “We’re on the same page,” Dad says. “Have a good time tonight. Do you need money?”
“I’ve got it covered, Mr. Jones.” Tobias smiles.
Dad looks Tobias up and down, carefully considering him. He raises his hand and points at Tobias. “Just remember what I said.”
“I’m fully aware of the consequences, and trust me, I have no intentions of finding out.”
Huh? Finding out? Finding out what? “What’s going on?” I look between them both. Clearly, neither are going to tell me what they’ve talked about.
Dropping my shoulders, I resign myself to the fact I’ll probably never know exactly what Dad said to Tobias.
“Are you ready?” Tobias asks.
“Yeah.”
“Be home by midnight,” Dad says. “And, keep your phone with you.”
“I will,” I reply essentially answering both Dad’s requirements with one sentence. “Love you.”
“With all my heart,” Dad responds as he closes the door behind us.
His words always make me smile. Tobias leaps ahead and opens the passenger side door for me. “What did Dad say?” I ask the moment we’re both in the car.
He snickers and shakes his head. Surprisingly, he tells me. “He told me if my penis goes anywhere near any part of you, he’ll detach it from my body and I’ll have to learn how to pee sitting down.”
Horrified I stare at him, my mouth open in shock. “Please tell me you’re joking?”
“Will that make a difference?” He pulls out into the street.
“You’re actually serious?”
He nods his head and smiles. “Afraid so.”
“I’m so sorry he threatened your…” I can’t quite say ‘manhood’ or ‘penis’ so I stupidly make a circular motion toward his groin. “Oh my God,” I say, quickly realizing all my attention is focused on his crotch. “I’m so sorry.”
Holy shit, Ivy—you’re such an idiot.
Tobias laughs as he sneaks a sideways glimpse at me. Covering my mouth with my hand, I turn my head to look outside. How damn embarrassing.
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I’m talking about your penis… Crap! I’m doing it again. Jesus, just shut up,” I scold myself aloud.
Tobias chuckles. “It’s okay. And for the record, I have no intentions on finding out what it’s like to pee sitting down. So, don’t worry. This…” he circles his crotch, “won’t be going near that…” he repeats the same gesture toward me.
He smiles at me, and my gaping mouth must be freaking him out. Suddenly, he bursts into laughter. So do I. “I can’t believe you had hand actions to go with what you said.”
“Hand actions?” he chimes, and laughs harder.
“Yes, hand act… Oh shit.” And just like that, I make a fool out of myself, again. “I gotta stop talking.”
“No, no, please don’t. You’re really entertaining when you’re not uptight.”
“What?! I’m not uptight.”
“Yeah, you are. But being uptight is what drew me to you.”
“I’m not uptight,” I mumble. He laughs deeply, and the rough sound of his voice sends my butterflies fluttering crazily. “Anyway, where are we going for dinner?” Looking out the window, I notice we’re heading out of the city and nowhere near any restaurants I’m aware of. “Um, you’re not taking me out to the woods to hack me up, are you?”
“I’m not interested in hacking you up,” he says with a chuckle.
“Then where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“Oh, mysterious. As long as you don’t hack me into millions of pieces, cool. I don’t think I’d make good fish food.” I turn to look in the back seat, and notice it doesn’t have any digging implements. “Judging by the lack of shovels, you don’t intend to dig a hole anywhere.”
“I’m not hacking you into pieces, or feeding you to the fish.”
“Ha! You didn’t say anything about digging a hole,” I tease.
“Not digging a hole either.” He pauses then adds, “We’re nearly there.” A few seconds pass, and I watch my surroundings. He turns off the highway onto a dirt road. I know where we are. He’s heading down toward the lake.
“I love it down here. If I knew this was where you were bringing me, I would’ve brought my camera. Dad used to bring me here every year on the last day of summer break.” Smiling, fond memories of Dad and me flood my memory. “But that was years ago. We haven’t been here in ages. I wonder why we stopped?” I say the last part more for me than Tobias.
“I only discovered it shortly after I moved here. I took a wrong turn, and found this place.”
The lake is only a short drive down the dirt road. When we reach it, there’s a clearing where cars can park and a path down to the lake. Tobias parks, and jumps out of the car, running around to open my door. I’ve already flung it open by the time he reaches me. “Hey, I want to be a gentleman. You can’t open your own door.”
“Oh, really? Okay.” I close the door again, a wicked smile pulling at my lips.
He opens the door for me, and steps to the side, holding his hand out to me. I lay mine in his, and notice the stark difference between us. I’m so much paler than he is. I suppose, he doesn’t have to hide any scars on his body. I do.
The happiness I was feeling, is now dampened by apprehension. The blood in my veins runs cold, and my heart flutters nervously. God, I’m such a disappointment.
“Hey,” Tobias says as he squeezes my hand tightly. I look up at him. His features have become heavy. Tilting his head to the side, he narrows his eyes. “Are you okay? If this is too much, we can go somewhere else more public.”
Shit, he thinks it’s because of him that my mood has changed. How can I tell him? I can’t.
I gather all my strength to stop the darkness from clouding this night with Tobias. “Yeah, I’m great. And no, I don’t want to go somewhere else.”
He gives me a genuine smile, his happin
ess reaching his eyes. “Okay, then stay here.”
Letting go of my hand, he walks around the car to the trunk, bringing out a picnic basket. “A picnic?” I ask, surprised.
“Yeah, I hope that’s not too lame.” He scrunches his nose in disgust.
“No! It’s not lame! It’s actually really nice. Thank you.”
He takes my hand in his, and carries the picnic basket in the other. We make our way down to the lake shore, and he sets the basket down. “Is it okay if we set up here?” he asks me.
“Perfect.” He opens the basket to find there’s a blanket folded neatly inside. Shaking it out, he places it on the ground. “You’re really prepared.”
Looking around, I notice how it’s changed. The grass is shorter, and there’s a lit footpath further down near the still water. It’s been updated since the last time I was here. I can imagine families come here to picnic. Right now, we’re the only people here.
We sit opposite each other, and he starts taking things out of the basket. “I have a confession.”
“What?” I ask.
“Clara and Mom helped me make everything. And by help, I mean I was allowed to stand at the kitchen door while they made and packed the picnic basket.”
Clara is a force. I can only imagine how she’d take over. She’d be cussing at him when he’d try offer an opinion about something. “Why is it, after meeting Clara only once, that doesn’t surprise me?”
“We have…” He opens the lid to a clear plastic container and peers inside. “It looks like we have mini pizzas.” He shows me the small cheese pizzas. “And…” He opens another longer container, “…sandwiches cut into triangles with the crust removed,” his voice dips to hide a chuckle. “Do they think we’re five years old?”
“I think it’s cute,” I add. He groans, and I laugh at how uncomfortable this is making him.
“There’s also pasta salad. And some fresh strawberries. And some water.” He looks further into the picnic basket. “Oh God,” he squeaks in an unnaturally high pitch.
“What?” His face is twisted in pain. His eyebrows are high, and crimson creeps up his cheeks. What have they put in there to embarrass him so badly? “What is it?” I ask again moving to my knees so I can see.
Drowning Page 9
