by Vicki Green
“Oh, my God!” she yells running around and getting dressed. “I’m so gonna get caught! Shit!” She’s so fucking cute. I’d laugh but it hurts too much.
After securing the shack, we fight our way to my truck in the downpour. We both slip on the rocks getting across the creek and by the time we get buckled into my truck, we are soaking messes. “Let me drive you home. You shouldn’t be dragging your bag and catching your death getting up that damn hill.”
She looks over at me, shivering, her hair dripping water everywhere and frowns. “You know I can’t let you, Brock. He might be waiting up for me and it’ll be hard enough to explain why I’m soaked.” Her hand grasps mine in the seat between us and squeezes. “I know you only want to take care of me but we can’t take the risk. I’ll be fine. I’ll hurry, I promise.”
She’s so fucking stubborn but I guess that’s one thing that attracted me to her, well that and her sexy body. Hey, I am a man. I finally manage to get the truck through the thick trees and onto the dirt road, which is now mud, then drive to the spot she normally takes to head up the hill, pull over and park. I turn to her, rubbing my thumb over the soft skin of her hand and frown, my eyebrows lowering. “I wish you’d let me take you home. I know you’re strong, Taren, but it’s such a bad storm. It’s not right. I’ll worry.”
She leans into me, the coolness of her wet lips pressed against mine, her fingers thread through my drenched hair as I lay my hand against the side of her face. She moves back, her eyes searching mine and smiles. “I know, babe, and I love you for it.” She grabs her bag from the floor and pulls on the door handle then turns her head at me. “I’ll text you as soon as I can.” She leans over again, kissing my lips quickly and then opens the door and gets out.
I sit there for a bit until I can’t see her through the darkness and rain anymore and head home. I have the weirdest feeling.
Chapter Six
Taren
I slipped so many times I’ve lost track. My knees hurt from hitting the ground, and I think my ankle is cut from slipping off a rock when we were crossing the creek. I’m cold¸ shivering and can hardly see where I’m going in the dark and pouring rain. Finally, I get up the hill far enough that I can see the deck lights. They glow like a beacon. Thank God. A few minutes later, I’m trying to be quiet as I walk up the steps, the back door is locked so I dig out the keys from my purse. Finally, I get in the door and tiptoe across the wood floor of the kitchen, water dripping off me leaving a trail. As soon as I get changed I’m gonna have to come back down with a towel and clean this up. Evidence.
“Where have you been, Taren?” I jump at Dad’s voice in the dark. It scares the shit outta me. I gasp and drop my bag with a heavy thud, my back hits the breakfast bar hard as I turn. So much for quiet.
“Uh, Dad. I couldn’t get in the front door for some reason so I tried the back.” My heart is beating so fast and I feel ill. I know there’s no way he’s buying this.
Thunder booms and lightning flashes briefly brightening up the room from the back door momentarily. I see him sitting at the kitchen table, his hand around a high ball glass, a small amount of amber liquid still in it. He raises it, drinking down the rest. I try to swallow but the lump in my throat won’t go down. “That’s interesting. How was your date with Jeffrey? Did you have a good time?” Crap, crap, crap!
“Um, yes. It was, uh, nice.” My wet hands are clamped on the edge of the counter behind me, holding me up, as my legs begin to feel weak and unstable. Fear radiates through me, along with shivering from my soaked clothes and my heart is beating so hard I can feel it in my chest. Is this what it’s like to have a heart attack? Maybe I’m having a panic attack. I wouldn’t doubt it at this point.
“Hmmmm, that’s very strange since I ran into him at the golf course earlier,” he mumbles. Oh, no! No! What am I going to do? How in the hell am I going to get outta this? He sets the glass down and turns fully towards me, an almost sad look on his face but then it turns into anger. “You know, I’ve never asked much of you. Given you everything you’ve ever wanted, not asking much in return and yet, you lie to me. You hang out with the one person I forbid you to, the person that shouldn’t be allowed to walk the earth. He and his family are nothing but trouble, blue collar trash the lot of them.”
Now, my anger has swelled from within. “You have no right to talk about them that way. They didn’t kill Sebastian, Daddy. They….”
He slams his fist down on the table, and I jump. “Don’t you ever talk about your brother like that! If he hadn’t been there working with those people he’d still be alive!” He rises and stares me down. “Go to your room.” He points to the doorway but continues his angry stare into my eyes. “I will have your cell phone, you will marry Jeffrey and that’s the end of it.”
I release my death grip from the counter and stand tall, raising my chin in defiance. “No, Daddy. I won’t. I won’t marry someone like a business deal. I will marry someone I love, not so that you can make a mockery of me and a sacred vow like marriage. I won’t do it, Daddy.” Both of our chests are heaving rapidly in anger. I can’t believe how he’s acting. “What happened to you? Do you think you’re the only one that lost someone they loved? I loved Sebastian too. He was my brother!” I scream, my entire body shaking, my fists clenched at my sides.
“GO! I won’t hear any more of this!” He yells back, his face red and his body shaking.
“I won’t do it. I’ll leave first!” My chest is heaving, my stomach in knots and I’m not sure if I’m shaking from the cold or anger. Most likely both.
“Fine! Then get OUT! Go! Go to your lover!” He takes two steps towards me, getting right in my face, but I hold firm. “You don’t think I don’t know your sleeping with him? How could you do that to Jeffrey?”
“I DON’T LOVE JEFFREY!” My head begins to pound, and I’m shaking so badly.
We both stand there staring each other down and finally he turns and starts to walk towards the doorway. “You have ten minutes to get out of my house.” Tears form in my eyes as I watch him walk away. “I no longer have a daughter,” he says quietly and walks out.
My tears intermingle with the rain on my face. I feel like I can’t move. I look over at the clock on the wall, and two minutes have passed since he left. The floor is slippery as I walk to the doorway. He’s nowhere in sight as I turn to the left and walk up the stairs. When I enter my room, I stop dead when I see Mom sitting on my bed, crying. She stands and runs over to me. Her arms wrap me in a hug, and yet I just stay still looking straight ahead in shock. “Oh, Taren. I’m so sorry. He’s gone mad. I’m sure of it.” She moves back, keeping her hold on me and looks at me. “What will you do? Where will you go?”
My eyes focus in on her wet face, tears streaming down her cheeks, and I don’t hesitate with my answer. “I’m going to go to Brock’s. He loves me. He’ll know what to do.” I free myself from her arms and walk to my closet, grab the other duffel bag and start throwing clothes into it. I don’t touch anything nice or fancy, just grab my t-shirts, tank tops, and the silky blouses I like to wear. I walk out and into my bathroom and find Mom in there with my small cosmetic bag, helping to pack up all my necessities. I turn and walk to my dresser and begin filling my bag with all my bras, panties, shorts, yoga pants, and sleepwear. Then I go to my desk, grabbing my journal, my laptop and various papers, stuffing them on top of my clothes. Pulling the strap of my purse up my shoulder, I turn as Mom comes out of my bathroom and hands me my small bag.
“Call me when you get there. I will come as soon as I can and help in any way possible.” She sniffs and wipes her nose with a tissue.
I set both bags down on the floor, call a cab and then throw my arms around her. “I know, Mom.” We stand there for a couple of minutes and just hold each other. I move back and pick up my bags and look at her. “I don’t know how you can stand to live with him. I really don’t. I’ll call you soon.”
She starts crying harder as I walk out the door. I head dow
n the stairs, looking straight ahead and once I get the front door open, I turn and look around one last time. I hold my head up high, take a deep breath and walk out, shutting the door behind me. Closing the door on my old life.
I had told the cab service to have one meet me down the street. I knew it would take five minutes or so to get there. The rain was still coming down hard. Thunder and lightning is loud and lighting up the sky. We haven’t had a hard rain like this in a long time. Figures it would pick tonight to come. When the cab arrived, I open the passenger door, lugging in both bags and sit, then closing the door and staring ahead. I give the cab driver Brock’s address. My hands are folded in my lap, and I sit there numbly. I feel sick to my stomach as we drive and hope I don’t have to ask him to pull over on the side of the street. All I can think about is how can a father just kick his daughter out of the house? Do I mean so little to him? And how can Mom stay there? I’m angry, hurt, freezing and my knees and ankle hurt. I jolt when the car stops and look out the front window at Brock’s building. Taking money from my purse, I lean forward and hand it to him and grab my bags. Once out in the pelting rain, I walk up the two steps and open the door. At least it’s warmer and dry in here. I walk the few steps to the right and set my bags down, raise my fist and knock.
Silence. I’m sure he’s asleep. Just when I raise my fist again the door opens. “Taren?” A sob escapes me before I can stop it, and I’m in his arms. “Baby, what’s wrong?” I bury my face into his warm chest and sob. I feel him move me into the room. One of his strong arms leaves me, but then it’s back again shortly, and I hear the door close behind us. “Come. Let’s get you dry.” He leads me through the apartment and into his bedroom. My right arm is around his waist, the other glued around his stomach, and my hands are fisting his t-shirt. I squint when he turns on the light in his bathroom and then finally look at him as he grabs my waist, lifting me onto the counter. I just sit there, shaking, tears streaming as he pulls up my soaked shirt. I lift my arms, allowing him to remove it and then he reaches behind me and unclasps my soaked bra. He pulls down my shorts and panties, lifting me with one arm around my waist until he gets them off. I watch his concentrated face as he pulls off my shoes, then my wet socks, and he frowns when he looks at my skinned and bruised knees and the blood from the cut on my ankle.
He works in silence as he takes out his medicine kit from the cabinet beneath me. Then leaves the room, quickly to return with one of his t-shirts, pulling it down over my head. I help by pushing my arms through the sleeves. He proceeds to clean up my knees and my ankle, covering the cuts with Band-Aids as I breathe in his smell from his shirt. I take a deep breath as he takes a towel from his linen closet, next to the counter, and starts drying my long hair that I know by morning will be a tangled mess, but I don’t care. He stands there for a minute looking into my tear filled eyes, placing his hand against the side of my face, his warmth flowing through me and making me shiver with his touch.
He quietly places his one arm around me, the other under my legs, lifting me into his arms. My arms instinctively move around his neck, my head resting on his shoulder as he carries me into his bedroom, then lays me down in his bed. He begins to stand back but my arms tighten their hold, not wanting to let go. “I’m just going to get in next to you, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers. I release him and watch him walk around the bed, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. He crawls in beside me, pulling me against him as I roll over. My arm lays across his flat stomach as his wraps around me, his other hand pulling up the covers and making sure I’m completely warm then holding onto my arm. He kisses the top of my head, my hair still a little damp, and I sigh into his chest. “I’ll never leave you. I’ll always be here for you, my love. We’ll talk in the morning. Sleep now.”
I lay there, comforted in his arms, my head racing with everything that happened. The look on Daddy’s face, his eyes and his horrible words. I’m not sure how long I laid there replaying everything over and over again but notice Brock’s light breathing, the relaxing of his arm around my shoulder and his hand on my arm. I start to think about things I need to do tomorrow. Go to the bank and withdraw money, call Mom, and find a job. I know Brock will take care of me, but I’m still scared. I’ve never been out on my own before, never had to know how to survive, budget money, buy groceries or any of the other tasks in day to day life. Guess now’s the time I need to learn.
Brock
I’m not much of a cook, but I’ll do anything for Taren. She was so distraught last night. She didn’t say a word, but I tried to comfort her as best I could. My thoughts are that her dad found out and kicked her out. I just don’t know how bad it was, but I can imagine. She was pretty devastated. I’m trying to make her pancakes and bacon. Well, the bacon didn’t come out too bad. I have everything just about done when she walks into the kitchen. I look over and my heart just stops. Her long dark hair is a tangled mess, fanned out all around. Her beautiful eyes are half open in that “I’m not quite awake” state. She looks so sexy in my t-shirt and my eyes scan down to her long silky legs, and I want to pick her up, throw her over my shoulder and take her to my bed. Our bed. Or tackle her right here, right now and smother her with love.
“What? Do I look that bad?” she asks making me blink out of my lust filled mind. She raises her hand up to her wild hair. I take the few steps over to her, wrap my arms around her as my hand sweeps her hair over one shoulder. My mouth is on her neck as my nose breathes her in. “Oh, do I smell bad too?” Her voice is a little lighter, a little more breathy, so I keep on with my admiration of her lovely skin and breathing in her unique smell. My nose rubs up and down the side of her neck, her face, then back again as my lips kiss and nip along the way. “Wait! Do I smell bacon?” I freeze and she lets out a small laugh, so I stop and move back then wave my arm to the table.
“After you, madam.” I bow, and she smiles as she walks by and sits down on a chair.
I walk back to the stove, put the pancakes on a plate and then grab the plate with the bacon and carry them over, setting them on the table. I had managed to set the table earlier with orange juice in our glasses, syrup, butter, napkins, and silverware. What I wasn’t able to do yet is pick up my apartment. Clothes are everywhere, dirty dishes in the sink and on the coffee table in the living room, my hamper in my closet is overflowing and I have to leave for work in about thirty minutes. I dread having to leave her after everything she went through. I’m sure it’s gonna be weird for her being here and I have to leave. I sit down across from her, everything taking almost the entire table top. With just me, this apartment has been the perfect size. The small table and three chairs fit nicely under the front window in the kitchen, the living room is small but holds my couch, two end tables, coffee table, and my oversized recliner with a fairly decent sized TV hanging from the wall across from them. The two bedrooms are small but I have the small laundry room at the end of the hall, a bathroom in the middle of the rooms and another bathroom in my bedroom. Until now, I’ve loved living here but with Taren it may get a little cramped. I’m sure she isn’t used to being in such a small amount of space.
“Soooo, you work today?” she asks and then takes a bite of her pancake. She doesn’t make a face so I figure it must not be too bad.
I take a couple of big gulps of juice and set the glass down. “Yeah, bad timing huh? I’m sorry.” She shrugs and takes another bite. “I can check with Kane and see about taking off today. I’m owed days off.” Her eyes move up to mine with a look of hope in them but then she shrugs again and sets her fork down on her plate.
“Nah, wait and use those when we can go somewhere or just spend some time alone.” She smiles. “I’m just gonna call Irish and see if she wants to hang. Do you mind if she comes over here?” She looks around the kitchen and then into the living room and back at me.
I chuckle. “Sure. Hey….” I reach over and take her hand, threading my fingers through hers. “This is your place now too. You can do whatever you wa
nt.”
Her smile grows bigger. “Can I…. um….” She bites the corner of her lower lip like she’s shy and afraid to ask me something. So cute.
“What? Go on.” My smile broadens with playfulness.
“Well, do you mind if I do some decorating? I mean, it’s not like this place isn’t nice or anything but, uh….”
Now I full out laugh and release her hand, sitting back in my chair. “Oh, you don’t like the yellowing white walls and the bachelor pad look?”
She laughs and it sounds so good. “Well, yeah, ha! I could fix it up, not girly or anything but just make it a little nicer than it already is.”
I reach out for her hand again, pulling her up from her chair and around the table until she’s on my lap, my arms wrap around her tight as my nose buries in her long matted hair. “Baby, you do whatever you want.” Her head turns to me, and I reach up, caressing the soft skin on her cheek with my thumb. “I don’t know what happened last night but I can imagine. When you’re ready to talk to me about it, I’m ready to listen. I won’t ever pressure you to say or do anything you don’t want to. Know that. Trust that.” She leans in, her mouth presses against mine and breakfast gets cold.
After we reheat and eat our breakfast, I head back to take my shower and shave. The whole time I’m washing I’m thinking how awesome it is that she’s here, that we can finally start our lives together, but I wish it was under better circumstances. Deep down though I always had a feeling when we’d be together that our families wouldn’t be happy about it, especially her dad. I just wish she hadn’t been so hurt. It makes me want to go straight over and tell her father off, but I know that will just makes things worse. By the time I get dried off, brush my teeth and run my fingers through my wet hair, I put on a semi clean wifebeater and jeans thinking I really need to do laundry soon. I feel a little better since the warm water helped to open my swollen eye a bit, but I still look like shit. I walk out of the bedroom and turn the corner and see she’s been cleaning the kitchen. Shit, it looks better than the day I moved in here. She turns around and smiles, leaning her hands on the counter behind her, holding onto a sponge. “I just thought I’d start in here.” She beams. I take the few steps to her and put my arms around her waist.
