“Sure, Baby. Now kiss me,’’ I whisper, but don’t bother waiting for her to lean up and kiss me, instead I kiss her softly, my lips against hers.
The car horn beeps again and I grin. Kayla looks hesitant to go, but I give her an encouraging smile.”You’ll be fine. Call me. Anytime,’’ I wink.
“Okay. I’ll text you later,’’ she smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I wish I had more time with her, more time to persuade her that everything will be okay, but then her phone rings and she growls making me chuckle.
“Go on,’’ I laugh and she moves forward so quickly I don’t have time to prepare myself before he lips are against mine in a quick, soft kiss. Before I catch my bearings, she’s gone.
Turning around I head back to the house with a smile on my face. The others stop talking when I walk in, looking at me like I’ve grown two heads.
“What?’’ I ask throwing my hands up.
“You are so freaking whipped, my twin,’’ Max groans, still holding Hope in his arms.
“Says the person who can’t go ten minutes without seeing his niece? It’s unhealthy, and I don’t just mean for you,’’ I tell him playfully.
“One day you’re going to meet a girl, fall head over heels and wonder why you didn’t do it sooner. It’s going to knock you over so goddamn hard, you’re going to take a while to recover,’’ Denny sings in a teasing voice.
“Yeah, until I get my sanity back and realise what a freaking pussy whipped mistake it was. Don’t you guys get bored? Not asking you Myles before you go kung fu on me, I’m asking the others. You know, having one pussy each night, every night.’’
“Best kind,’’ Mason says.
“Not done the whole girlfriend thing, but must be better than random hook-ups,’’ Maverick mutters looking at Max distastefully. “Can we not talk about it please, there like my sisters.’’
I grunt in agreement and Denny leans over smacking Max up the side of his head, making Hope giggle.
“Whatever, I’m just saying, falling in love and having one girl just isn’t for me. Whatever floats your boat, but I’m into the whole sharing is caring motto,’’ Max says.
“That’s how STD’s are spread,’’ Mason interrupts. “Maybe sharing is caring shouldn’t be the motto you follow?’’
“When is the pizza coming?’’ Max snaps, wanting out of the conversation making me grin. “Wipe that grin off your face Myles, it doesn’t suit you.’’
“Grouchy,’’ I tease laughing. He chucks one of Hope’s building blocks at me, but I manage to catch it before it reaches my head.
Chapter Twenty
KAYLA
On the drive back home, my dad does nothing but moan at me for being so inconsiderate. I try to explain that I forgot, that Myles took me out and I completely lost track of everything. He just gave me a look that said he wished he could say more, but didn’t want to embarrass himself, or me. I could only imagine how that talk would go. I’d literally cry.
We arrive outside our home before he turns to me, his expression serious and concerned.
“Are you sure your okay with me seeing Katie. I know you love your mother, but we’re separated,’’ he sighs.
I want to snort.
Love my mother? Is he freaking serious right now? Not wanting to touch on the subject of my mother, I reach out, placing my hand gently on his arm.
“Dad, I’m fine. I’m really happy for you. You deserve to be happy,’’ I smile genuinely, because hell, I never understood why he stayed with my mother for so long, or why he continues to provide for her. I don’t even go to her place that much, and I plan on never stepping foot inside her house ever again.
“Good, now let’s go in, she’s due any second,’’ he says, jinxing us. A red car pulls up behind my dad’s as we step out, a tiny brunette with wild, curly hair getting out of the driver’s side.
“Hey, darling,’’ my dad greets, a huge smile on his face. His eyes are soft and he’s looking at her in a way I’ve never seen him look at anyone before. A smile breaks across my face, but then I notice them both hesitantly looking my way and I start to shake.
Why are they looking at me like that?
Dad sends me a glare and nods his head gesturing to Katie beside him. She looks as shy as I am, but I’m not going to let that fool me. My mother can act better than most Hollywood actresses, so I know all too well how conniving people can be.
“I’m sorry. Hello, I’m Kayla,’’ I introduce myself, and she smiles shyly before reaching her hand out to me. I shakily move my hands from behind my back and reach out to take hers. They’re warm, soft, and it has me quickly dropping my hand and dropping my arm to my side.
She smiles, not seeming offended by my sudden move.
“Well let’s go in, it’s getting colder,’’ my dad says, his hand at the bottom of her back. “Kayla is making her special seasoning steak.’’
I stand behind them with my mouth hanging open. Since when was I meant to be cooking? Really starting to wish I had never answered my phone and just stayed at Denny’s snuggled up to Myles and eating pizza. Pizza I wouldn’t have to stand around for an hour or so cooking.
I walk in after them and head straight to the kitchen. I’m grabbing all the ingredients out of the fridge and cupboards that I don’t hear Katie walk in behind me, scaring the hell out of me.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to come in and help, if that’s okay?’’
“Oh no! That’s fine, I can totally manage. I don’t mind,’’ I lie, but my words are rushed, not wanting her to think I’m being rude or anything, or that I can’t handle cooking dinner. Hell, I’ve probably cooked more dinners than I’ve actually eaten.
“I don’t mind, Sweetie. Your dad has just gone to answer a call, so he’ll be back in a second. I like to keep busy,’’ she says, and before I can blink she’s grabbing the peeler out of the drawer and peeling the potatoes.
I nod my head and give her a small smile, then carry on with preparing the steak, before putting it to the side, so that I can prepare the rest of the dinner.
“Do you like peas?’’ I ask quietly, and notice from the corner of my eye that she is curiously watching my every move.
“Yes. So, your father says you want to become a social worker, is that right?’’
“Yes, but I’m more interested in the therapist side of it. I want to be able to help kids get through certain areas of their life,’’ I tell her.
“That’s great. My mother was a foster parent. Mostly she looked after troubled teens and she helped them through so much, so I can envy you wanting to do that for a living.’’
“How many teens did she foster?’’ I ask, curious to know all about it.
“I think she is currently on her twenty-ninth. She has a teenage boy called Daniel, who was abandoned by his parents when he was eight. He moved in with some relatives shortly after, but they died, and because of his age, it’s hard to find someone to adopt him. Then there is a girl called Sally-Ann, she arrived not long ago after suffering years of abuse from her parents. It’s the same case as Daniel’s, with her being too old for people to adopt.’’
“What your mother is doing is incredible,’’ I whisper, thinking of the girl who suffered years of abuse. I wonder if that would have been me had I spoken to someone sooner. No. I don’t think my dad would have let anyone take me.
“She’s an incredible mother. You should talk to her about doing a placement, you’ll need the hours to get your degree,’’ she says. I look to her after putting the potatoes on to boil. Is this her way of buying my approval, to lure me into a false predicament? I’m still unsure if I can trust her.
“I’ll think about it,’’ I tell her quietly, not looking at her.
I stand staring at the potatoes for a while, watching them boil, and I lose track of the time. It’s not until a hand touches my arm that I jump out my trance, screaming in fright. Katie stands looking at me with a horrified expression
, her hands both up in a defence position.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. The potatoes are boiling over,’’ she whispers, and if I’m not mistaken she actually sounds genuinely concerned.
“You just startled me is all,’’ I tell her, turning around to turn the heat down. I turn the other hob on, needing to put the steaks on. My hands visibly shake and Katie walks up to me slowly, placing her hand on mine.
“I’ll finish off the dinner, why don’t you go sit down or lay the table.’’
I nod my head, wanting some space to myself for five minutes. She gives me a soft smile before turning her attention back to the stove.
My dad walks out of his office at the same time I walk out of the kitchen, and gives me a look of concern.
“Is Katie okay?’’ he asks. I sigh, knowing I shouldn’t have even thought he would be concerned about me. It just makes my chest hurt and my eyes begin to water.
“Yeah, she’s just finishing the dinner. I need to just go send an email to my teacher. I forgot to hand in an assignment yesterday,’’ I tell him, then hurry off up the stairs, but not before I hear him and Katie laughing and giggling in the kitchen.
By the time I make it back downstairs, I’m still can’t shake away my nerves. I know how much my dad likes Katie and I don’t want to ruin it for him, and I will if she thinks I’m this scared little freak.
I’m sitting at the table when Katie walks in struggling with some sauces. I stand up quickly nearly knocking my chair backwards to help her. I take the sauces and place them in the centre of the table before heading to the kitchen to grab the plates.
I pick up the two closest to me while Katie picks up the other along with a plate of garlic bread.
“Whose is who?’’ I ask her when we reach the table.
“That one is yours, and that one is mine,’’ she smiles and my hands begin to shake. Just remembering how my mother would be angry if I sat and ate food with her, or heaven forbid, ate any food at all. So with shaky hands I move to the other end of the table as she takes a seat next to my dad. I’m about to set the plate down when my hand shakes that badly, I drop it. I watch in horror as it lands on Katie’s lap, her squeals of pain ringing in my ears.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,’’ I chant, tears filling my eyes. I grab a tea-towel from the side and wipe the hot food from off her tight fitted, knee-length skirt. “I’m so sorry,’’ I tell her, then see her hand lift in my side vision. Taken off guard, I launch backwards, knocking my head into the table with my hands covering my face. When I don’t feel anything for a couple of seconds, I peek through my fingers, and through my tears I see my dad and Katie both looking at me with an expression that I can only describe as baffled. My dad looks like he wants to cuss a storm but is too stunned by my reaction and Katie looks like she wants to say something to me or my dad, or maybe throttle one or both of us. I’m so clueless it makes a sob break out of my mouth.
“I didn’t mean to, I just…I’m sorry, I was nervous,’’ I cry, feeling embarrassed, and the longer no one speaks the worse it feels.
My words must have snapped something into Katie, because she takes one look at my father before rushing down to me where I’m laying on my ass on the floor.
“It’s okay, it was only an accident. Why don’t you go upstairs and clean up then come and eat your dinner, yeah?’’
“No!’’ I nearly shout in her face. “I’m fine. You can have mine. I ate a big dinner before I came,’’ I lie, wiping my tears. “I’m sorry, Dad. Why don’t you eat with Katie and I’ll clean everything up in the morning. I’m sorry,’’ I rush out before running off upstairs, taking two at a time. Once I make it to my room, I slam the door behind me and fling myself onto my bed, burying my head in the pillow.
How could I have been so freaking clumsy? Will I ever be normal? I wouldn’t be surprised if my dad has an appointment with my therapist already lined up for Monday morning.
I hear my door creak open and I turn my head in time to see Katie shutting the door slowly behind her. I knew my instincts to protect myself were right. She’s come for payback, just like my mother.
“I really am sorry,’’ I whisper when she doesn’t do or say anything.
“I know, honey,’’ she sighs, then sits down on the bed next to me. My body freezes, and I completely tense not sure how to act around her. With my mother I know what’s going to happen, how to react, not that it matters how I act, but still, I’ve learnt how to not make it worse. “Remember I told you about my mother?’’ she questions out of the blue, her hand slowly reaching out to touch my knee. I try to hold back a flinch, but my efforts are tireless.
“Yes,’’ I whisper, not moving my eyes away from the hand on my knee. She hasn’t made any move to hurt me, or to grip tighter so her nails can dig into my skin, but even still, I keep my body tense and on alert.
“Well, I remember that we once lived down the road from an old friend of my mom’s. Her daughter would always come round our house and play, even though she was a few years older than me. She was the happiest when she was at ours, just me, my mother and my dad, but if we went to her house, she was always on edge. Always distant. I noticed after awhile that she never invited me to play in her room, no matter how much I begged,’’ she says before taking a deep breath. I still don’t look at her, in fear of where this story is heading, and why she is telling me this. “We’d go round for dinner at least once every other week at her house. Her parents were really good friends with mine. So one day when we went for dinner I asked to be excused to go to the toilet. They agreed and because their downstairs toilet was blocked I was finally allowed to use the upstairs. Instead of going into the bathroom, I went into her room and I was so taken back, so confused I went to the next room. The room was her parents, all decorated fancy, double bed and all their knick-knacks. There weren’t any other bedrooms.’’
“What was so confusing about her bedroom?’’ I ask before I can stop myself, my eyes moving away from her hand to her eyes. They look distant and sad and I feel bad for asking in case it hurts her to talk about.
“The only thing in her room was a sponge mattress and a bucket. Later that evening I told my parents and they didn’t believe me, not at first. They even joked about it to her parents who laughed about it with them. I never understood it, until the next day when ambulances and police cars were lining the street on our road, all of them parked heartlessly in the road. They killed her,’’ she says quietly.
I gasp, feeling my tears begin again. How? Why? I just…I’m about to ask, but Katie’s voice breaks into the silence of the air.
“I blamed myself for years afterwards, for not saying anything and for saying something. If I had never had told my parents what I saw she might have been alive today. It took me a while to realise I was wrong. The way her parents had been beating her, we were later told that she was lucky to have lived as long as she did. She was nine when she died.’’
“Why are you telling me this?’’ I voice a loud.
“Because I know how it feels not to know who to trust. For a long time after, I was scared to tell my parents anything, and not just them either, but other adults. It might not be the same, but I feel like you need an adult that can just be here for you, to guide you on what to do and to be on your side.’’
“What do you mean?’’ I ask quickly, my eyes wide with fear. Does she know? Does she know my mother hurts me? How? I know I dropped the plate in her lap, flinched a couple of times, but no one could know just from seeing that. Hell, if she’s lived around here long enough then she would know I have other reasons to flinch as well.
“I have to ask, and please don’t think I’ll be running to the authorities, or downstairs to your father. I promise to keep it between us until I can figure out a way to help you,’’ she says softly, bringing her arm around my shoulders. I stiffen again and pull away to look at her. To really look at her. She has soft features, her eyes soft, a light shade of
blue, and is so tiny you could fit her on a shelf, but it’s the kindness that shine in her eyes as she looks at me that has me taking in a deep breath. Could she really be that person I can turn to? She knows what it’s like not knowing who to turn to, who will laugh in your face, or just plain ignore you. I guess it was one of my worst fears, especially after I was raped and people didn’t believe me.
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at,’’ I evade, not wanting to talk to a stranger about this.
“Does your father hit you, Kayla,’’ she asks, and swallows.
I laugh. I laugh so hard I fall back onto my bed, the tears running freely down my face. What is with everyone thinking my dad hits me? Does he really look that evil? I know looks can be deceiving, don’t get me wrong, but come on, my dad? He’s like a giant stuffed teddy bear that can be a little ignorant at times. Okay, most of the time, but let’s not get into that.
“No, my dad doesn’t hurt me. He’d never lay a finger on me. For one he’d have to be around a lot more to want to hurt me, and as he’s not, so you’ve got nothing to worry about,’’ I bite out, sitting back up.
“I’m sorry. I just needed to make sure,’’ she replies softly.
I laugh again but it sounds wrong, disturbed and I know I need to keep a lid on what I say before I do end up screaming out the truth.
“You couldn’t be more wrong if you tried, Katie. Did you ask because you really do care, or because you wanted to know if you’d be dating a child abuser?’’
My harsh words sound so foreign to my ears that I wince, biting my bottom lip till I taste blood in my mouth.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,’’ I whisper.
“No, you’re right, but you’re deadly wrong. No child, no matter the age, should suffer through abuse, Kayla. No I’d never date your father if he did, but I also wouldn’t leave you to fend for yourself either. I may not know you, but I want to. I’m not going to lie to you, your father has come to mean so much to me, more than you’ll ever know.’’
Myles (Carter Brother#3) Page 23
