“Don’t tell me how to talk to my own son, goddamnit!”
“Don’t talk to her like that!” Cal yelled.
Mom was really taken aback at that. Her gaze flitted from James to Cal and back again. Second thoughts, maybe?
“Stop,” I said, standing up. James ignored me, but Cal glanced back at me. His gaze was concerned—Don’t involve yourself if it will put you in danger. Please, sweetheart.
I had to.
“You said we were going to have a talk,” I said to Mom. “That’s why we were waiting down here. That’s why we were waiting for James to get home. Just tell us what we need to hear before we start fighting, alright?”
James bristled at the mention of ‘a talk.’
Hm. Strange. But as long as it kept him from screaming at Cal for a few moments, I would take it.
Mom sat down. “You’re right, honey. I think that’s really all we can do at this point. Especially after…” She glanced at Cal’s bloody shirt, then sighed and put her face in her hands.
“Right. A talk,” James spat. He glared at Mom, then pulled out a chair with a screech and fell into it beside her. He was enraged, but there was something else there. They had been keeping a secret from us, hadn’t they?
What were they planning?
“We might as well get to the point,” Mom said, pulling her face out of her hands and resting her chin on her fingertips. God, she looked tired. Tired and old. These last few months had aged her even worse than Dad’s death. A shithead for a husband will do that, I heard.
Cal glanced at her. “Which is….?”
“We’re getting a divorce.”
You could have heard a pin drop.
Cal’s hand tightened on my knee.
“A divorce,” I repeated numbly.
Only, I didn’t say it. I mouthed the words. I was too weak to put any real voice into it.
I knew their marriage was fucked up. The screaming matches were a testament to that. But there had been no sign that they would actually … well, split up. Mom wasn’t a quitter, even if she really should be sometimes. And I got the sense that James despised the idea of failing at anything.
It must have been even worse than I thought.
“We’ve been thinking about it for a long time,” James said coldly. “We think it’s best for both of us—all of us—if we separate. Callum and I will do much better living on our own—”
“You’re moving out?” I cried.
James shot me a glare. “—living on our own, moving out of this house, yes. It’s better for all of us, you in particular. Healthier.”
“You mean easier to beat your child you son of a bitch!”
Both James’ and my mother’s jaws dropped. Cal’s hand bit harder into my knee, more out of shock than to hush me.
“Natalie Amelia!” my mother gasped.
I shouldn’t have said it. But I didn’t regret it.
“That’s it,” my mother said, standing again. She slapped the table top with a harsh smack. “That’s why they’re moving out, Natalie! My daughter never used to talk to me that way.”
“I told you,” James growled, glaring at his son across the table. “I warned you that he ruins whatever he touches.”
“Don’t fucking talk about him like that!”
“Natalie Amelia Harlow, you will not raise your voice in this house,” my mother cried.
“Not if he’s going to hurt Cal!”
“And what about Cal hurting you, hm?” My mother shook her head wildly. “Do you have any idea how much you’ve changed since he moved in, Natalie? You’ve lost your boyfriend. I’ve heard you skipped a class last week. Your grades are slipping. You got a B in math last report card! You used to be so good, Nat, and ever since he moved in … ever since we shook up the household, you’ve changed.” She touched my shoulder. “It’s for your own good.”
I couldn’t hear a word of that monologue. I was deafened by the horror of what was going on. They were taking Cal from me. They were taking Cal from me, they were going to hurt him, they were pretending it was good for us.
“So I’ll work harder!” I said. “I’ll get my grades up. I’ll help Cal in school, I’ll—”
“Cal has been expelled,” James spat. “Funny, the school doesn’t want around a thug who assaults its students. Who would have thought. Which is another reason we have to leave. I have to find a school stupid enough to take my son.”
“Don’t talk about him like that!”
“Stop, Natalie!” said Mom. “We are not discussing this!”
I realized hot tears were staining their way down my cheeks. Cal’s shaking hand reached for me, but I stood up.
“No!” I sobbed. “You can’t! You can’t just—just tear us apart like this! It’s not fair!”
“Natalie Amelia, control yourself!”
I tore myself away from her grasp, but she grabbed my sleeve. “Natalie, you have to understand that this is better for all of us. Cal needs help, help he can only get if he’s taken away from the distractions here. And you, Nat! You’ve changed so much since he moved in!”
“It’s because I don’t have to pretend anymore! I don’t have to lie!”
“Bullshit, Natalie!” Even in the midst of my meltdown, my eyes popped open. My mother had never, even in all her fights with Dad, used a curse word. It was anathema to her. “We’re not discussing this. He’s moving out. James is moving out. We’re getting a divorce. This conversation is over.”
My mother grabbed her housecoat and stormed out of the kitchen. The slam of the bedroom door reverberated in the walls. Cal was still silent, avoiding looking into his father’s eyes. James glared at him hard, but he kept his arms crossed. No more screaming. No more hitting. At least not tonight.
“We’re moving out on Friday,” James said shortly.
“No,” I choked.
“Make sure your things are packed.”
“No!”
“I’m sorry this little experiment didn’t work, Natalie. But some families aren’t meant to be together.” He was back to Fake James, the disgustingly personable James with veneers and a bad tan. Pretending to be my friend. I hated him.
“Make sure to get your goodbyes done,” he said as he stalked out. “If anyone cares about you enough to want one.”
On Friday morning, the crowds of hired hands arrived to begin packing. Callum and his father waited on our lawn, the exhaust of their truck blackening the cloudy sky. Mom had pushed an umbrella into my hands and pulled a rain poncho over me as we watched the crowd of people slosh through the mud to pack boxes into the U-Haul. Everything about that day was horrible—even the weather.
My grandmother used to tell me that rain is God crying.
If so, I appreciated the sympathy.
“Do you know where you’re moving?” I asked Cal as we shoved a box into the truck. It held the sheets from his now empty bedroom. Something about how bare the room was now made me sick to my stomach.
“No.” He gritted his teeth. “He won’t tell me.”
“Is it because….”
“Because he wants to hurt me. And because he doesn’t want me to talk to you. You know too much about us.”
“I hate him.”
“I hate him too, sweetheart.” He sighed and embraced me. I bit my bottom lip and glanced over his shoulder toward the crowd. No one was looking, but I wasn’t sure how much private time we had left. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy to get him away from you. You’re too good for him. For us.”
“Don’t you dare say that.”
He shrugged. “It’s true.”
“I will never be good enough for you, Cal Gatlin.”
I hated the sight of the house slowly being emptied. It meant that it was getting closer to the time when they’d take Cal from me. And that thought was unbearable.
When it was almost noon and most of the vans had been loaded, Cal took me by the hand. While everyone else was distracted with finishing the last few vans
, Cal pulled me into the kitchen. I glanced out the window as he wrapped his arms around me. Outside in the rain, Mom and James snapped at each other as they repacked a box that had fallen from the van. I had never seen her so angry as I had these last few weeks. Maybe there was a bad influence in the house.
But it wasn’t Cal.
“Sweetheart,” he whispered, pressing his lips against my ear. “Stop worrying. You look half dead.”
“They’re taking you away from me, Cal.” I cupped his cheek with my palm, loving the way his stubble bit into it. He closed his eyes and rested his face in my hand. God, he was beautiful when he did that. “How will I know if you’re safe?”
“I can take care of myself, Nat. I’ve done it my whole life.”
“But how will I know that?” I felt the sobs rise up my chest again, but I crushed them down. I couldn’t let my emotions get the better of me. Not today. Not with Cal in danger. “You know he won’t let me talk to you. He wants nothing to do with us anymore, not now that we’ve wrecked his happy little family fantasy. Not now that I know what he is.”
“Jesus, Nat,” he breathed.
“What? Did I say something wrong? I’m ruining this whole day, I know. I’m sorry.”
“No, sweetheart. It’s just … I forgot what it was like to have somebody care about me.”
Oh God, Cal. Keep digging that knife into my heart.
“I’ll be fine,” he said, opening his eyes again. He leaned forward to kiss me long and soft. “I always have been.”
“I won’t be. Not without you.”
“You were fine your whole life without me.”
“But I’ll miss you. They’re stealing you from me, Cal. We haven’t even got the chance to really be together.” I buried my face in his chest. “We haven’t been able to date openly, or go to prom together, or….” I could feel the heat reach my cheeks.
“Make love?” he asked.
“Ugh. It sounds so … soppy.”
“Too bad,” he chuckled. “I couldn’t just fuck you, Nat. Not you, sweetheart.” His fingers combed through my hair.
“Not like it matters now,” I mumbled into his chest.
Calls came from outside. The last van had been packed up. James had started corralling and paying the hired hands. They would leave at any moment, regardless of the storm. Or how much it hurt Cal and I to lose each other.
“Listen, Natalie,” he said, embracing me harder. “We don’t have much time. You need to listen to me, alright sweetheart? Nate is fucking dangerous. And he wants you.”
“Fuck him, I don’t care.”
“But he does. Please, Nat, you have to promise me you’ll be careful. If anything ever happened to you….”
His voice broke.
“I promise,” I mumbled into his chest. I couldn’t deny him anything. Not Cal. And especially not now.
“Good girl.”
He kissed my forehead.
“Now look at me,” he ordered.
I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. He brushed the hair from my face. “Fuck, you’re beautiful, Nat.”
James yelled from outside for Cal to get in the truck.
“Kiss me,” he said. “Make it count.”
I opened my mouth. His lips pressed against mine, hard and insistent. I knotted my fingers in his hair, pulling him against me. God, I needed him. I always needed him. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and his fingers dug into my back. Another yell from James sounded from the window.
Cal’s lips pulled away from me. He cupped my chin and looked into my eyes, serious and intense.
“I will be back,” he murmured. His lips pressed against my forehead again, their warmth protecting me from the biting cold of the air around us. His strong arms wrapped around me, the fingers digging into my soft flesh as if he wanted to anchor himself to me and never let go. “I will protect you, Nat. They can take out of the same house, but they can’t take me away from you.”
“I don’t want you to go,” I whispered.
“Fuck, Nat. You know I don’t want to either.” He kissed me hard again, ignoring another of James’ yells. “But look.” He touched my earring. “As long as you have this, I’m with you. Alright, sweetheart.”
“I’ll never take it off.”
“I know you won’t, baby.”
His voice broke on the last word. It killed something inside of me, something secret and precious. Something that had died once before with Dad but he had revived in me for just a fleeting moment. Cal had given me something to live for. Now that he was gone, I couldn’t see the point of it all. Not now.
He pulled away from me, forcing my arms off of him. I knew he had to go, even if I hated it. “Just listen. Okay?”
I nodded.
“I will promise you this, Natalie Harlow.”
His lips pressed against my knuckles, the rough grain of his five o’clock shadow scratching them. I prayed fiercely that it would leave a mark, that I would have something of him left to take to bed with me when I fell asleep crying that night.
“I will come back for you,” he said, looking into my eyes. “No matter what. No matter how long it takes. No matter how hard it is. I will fucking come back for you, Natalie Harlow. Because you are worth it.”
He kissed my forehead one more time.
“I love you,” he whispered.
And then he turned around and walked out of the house, into the car, leaving me shaking and sobbing in the kitchen.
Just as suddenly as he forced his way into my life, Callum Gatlin left.
Once again, I was alone.
“Natalie. Natalie, open the door.”
I pulled the pillow tighter over my head, hoping the feather stuffing would drown my mother’s voice out. The rain hammered against my bedroom window, but I could still hear her visiting every few minutes. She pounded on the door again.
“Natalie, please talk to me.”
I heard the rattle of the doorknob, but it had been locked ever since Cal left. I knew I shouldn’t be this horrible to my own mother. I knew I was being selfish. But God, it hurt.
Mom’s frustrated sigh groaned against the door. Her footsteps padded away. Even she was giving up on me.
My face was still hot and wet from the tears that were soaking my sheets. I wasn’t sure if it was night yet or not. I hadn’t peeked my head out of the covers since I dove under them hours ago, as soon as Cal left and I could think straight enough to climb upstairs. The only thing I could think about, the only thing I could feel, was the crippling pain in my chest. I took a deep breath and touched the diamond stud still clipped in my ear. It was the only thing keeping me sane.
My phone vibrated against my thigh.
Wiping a tear away from my eye, I pulled it out of my pocket and sat up in bed. I glanced at the window, where the moon shined bright and white in the black sky. Cal was long gone by now. I wondered where to.
I glanced at the phone.
NEW MESSAGE FROM
NATHANIEL POOLE
Fuck him.
I deleted it without reading it.
I collapsed back on the bed.
Four hours ago, I had texted Cal. Asking him where he was, if he knew where he was going. No answer.
Three hours ago, I had texted Cal. Asking him if he had gotten my last text. Asking if he had anything to say. No answer.
Two hours ago, I had texted Cal. Asking him to please answer me, to say anything. No answer.
One hour ago, I had gotten a text from Cal’s number:
CAL:
DO NOT CONTACT MY SON AGAIN
God, I hated that man.
My phone vibrated. Another text from Nate. I deleted it. In the kitchen beneath my room, the Mom’s spoon tinkled against her mug as she fixed herself a cup of strong, black coffee. I was happy that he was away from her, at least.
I had a weekend to wallow. Then school on Monday, where my psycho ex would be waiting for me. Then prom on Saturday, where I would be painfully reminded by the
diamond stud in my ear that the only one I loved wouldn’t be taking me.
I fell back in bed and pulled the covers over me as I groaned into the pillow. I could keep pretending that this wasn’t happening, or I could fix it. I knew I would have to face reality on Monday.
Save Me: a Stepbrother Romance Page 11
