by Mary Martel
“You brought her up before, Annabell. You are not her. You are nothing fucking like her. But, unfortunately for you, you get the us we are after her. It’s not going to be easy, I get that, I even understand it. But, you are gonna have to suck it the fuck up because you are the only girl for the job. Don’t fight it. Now, Tyson is going home with you. If you don’t like it, feel free to pick someone else and I will get them for you.”
He backed off and stared me down, watching my face.
“Yeah,” he said after a few seconds of watching me. “That’s what I thought.”
He turned his back on me, started to walk away, and said over his shoulder, “It’s your night, nephew. Take care of her.”
Chapter Seven
I stood in the middle of my bedroom feeling incredibly awkward. I hated feeling this way. After the horrid first day of school, I hadn’t been anything but comfortable around Tyson. He had the potential to become my best friend. Leave it to Quinton to put a wedge between us while he was actually trying to drag us closer together.
The door clicked shut softly, announcing Tyson’s arrival. He’d gone home to put some clothes on over his underwear. After Quinton’s little speech, the fact that Tyson was so scantily clad had seemed to bother him more than it had bothered me. He’d insisted on going home to change.
“You don’t actually have to stay with me,” I said quietly without turning around to look at him. “I will be fine on my own.”
Gentle but warm hands landed on my shoulders. He pulled me back into his solid chest. His hands slid down my arms until they met with my hands. He leaned against my back as he tangled our fingers together. He rubbed his cheek against the top of my head as he snuggled into me from behind.
“Ariel, Ariel,” he murmured. “Do you want to be alone? If you want me to go just say so and I will go. I won’t like it and Quint will probably try to kick my ass but if it’s what you want then I will go.”
I shook my head. If he left me I would probably cry and I definitely wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. I only said it because I didn’t want him to feel like he had to stay because his Uncle told him to do so.
“I want you to stay with me,” I told him honestly. “But I don’t want you to be here because Quinton ordered you to be here. He’s so bossy and he’s always trying to control everything. I don’t want him to control who I spend my time with and I certainly do not want him to think he can get away with telling me who I’m going to sleep with in my bed at night. That’s ridiculous and I’m not going to let him get away with that.”
His body started shaking, shaking mine with it as he laughed softly.
“You want to tell him he’s too bossy and that you’re not going to let him order you around.” He laughed harder. “I’d pay good money to see that. I’m sure we all would. You let me know before hand and we’ll all gather around to watch you tell him off and put him in his place.”
I was pretty sure I didn’t want an audience for that would-be conversation. A conversation I would likely never have because I wasn’t quite brave enough to tell Quinton off and I had no idea what his place was so I could put him there.
“I’m tired,” I said. And I was. So very, very tired. Since the dream had started up I hadn’t gotten a whole lot of sleep. I needed to sleep.
Tyson squeezed my hands before letting go and stepping away from me. I immediately missed his heat.
“Then get into bed,” he ordered. “Do you want me to get your computer and set up Friday Night Lights for us? Or have you been watching it without me?”
He sounded disgruntled at the end and warmth spread through my entire being. I loved that he sounded like he didn’t want me to watch it on my own. As much as I had wanted to continue watching the show so I could find out what happened, I didn’t want to watch it without Tyson. It didn’t seem right to me to watch it without him. It was our thing we did together.
As much as I wanted to cuddle up with Tyson on my bed while we watched our show I didn’t think I would make it through a whole episode without falling asleep.
“Sure,” I said. “If you want to watch it then go ahead and get it ready. But I’m not going to watch it. I’m going to sleep. I’m so tired.”
“Is that what you’re sleeping in?” He asked me quietly.
I didn’t even bother to look down at the tank top and short-shorts I had started out the night in in what felt like forever and a day ago. It would feel nice to put on fresh clothing but then I would need to take a shower first and I would likely fall asleep standing up if I did that.
“It’s fine,” I muttered as I moved towards the bed. It was a sloppy mess from sleeping in it. I usually took better care of my things and always made a point to make my bed when I got out of it. I guess it didn’t really matter when it wouldn’t be my bed for much longer.
Without bothering to straighten out the mess that was my sheets and blanket, I crawled into my bed.
“I’m going to use the bathroom,” Tyson said. “I’ll be right back. Get yourself comfortable.”
I laid my head down on my pillow and dragged my comforter over my head. I hoped he would turn the lights off when he came back from the bathroom.
I had uncovered my head and was starting to drift off when I heard him moving around the otherwise silent room. The bed moved, the blanket shifted and then his body curved around me, his front to my back. One of his arms slid underneath my pillow, below my head. His lips kissed the top of my head. He leaned into me, pushing my side and part of my belly into the bed as he pushed his knee in-between my legs. His front melded into my back as his free hand slid up my side. His hand stopped just shy of my breast and his fingers curled into my ribs.
“Umm…” I mumbled, unsure of how to feel about this position he’d put us in.
His hand slid back down my side until he met with the hem of my tank top. Skin against skin, his hand smoothed its way up my stomach. He didn’t stop going until he moved between my bare breasts and passed them. He stopped just below my neck where he splayed his fingers wide and pushed on my chest, pulling me back against his body as tight as I could get.
“Tell me something,” he whispered in my ear.
I couldn’t think straight with him wrapped all around me so tightly.
“What?” I croaked out. I cleared my throat and tried again. “What do you want me to tell you?”
“Tell me about these,” he said as he ran his fingers across my scars.
I sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly wide awake and clear headed. Twice in one damn night.
“Where did they come from?”
I shook my head.
“How old were you?”
I drew in a deep, shuddering breath.
“Did your mother do this to you?”
I tried to pull away from him but he refused to let me go. Instead, he pulled me in tighter even though I didn’t think it was possible to get any closer.
“Why won’t you tell me?”
Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I didn’t think he needed to know every hideously horrible and humiliating thing there was to know about my life. He didn’t share messed up stories with me about his past and I didn’t ask him to, nor would I.
“Girl, you know you can tell me anything.”
I sighed. I did know. I had no doubts when it came to trusting Tyson. That wasn’t it. It was about rehashing it, bringing it back to the surface when I’d buried it so deep that I rarely thought about it. Denial and ignorance were my friend. Also, there was always that little thought in the back of my head telling me to keep it to myself, there was only so much bullshit a person could take before they started to look at you with pity in their eyes and then they bailed on you. I knew, I freaking knew he wouldn’t bail on me and the pity wouldn’t stay there forever. In reality, I knew that. But in my head, it was a whole different story.
“Fuck it,” he grunted. “Forget I said anything and go to sleep.”
The hurt in his voice pierced my chest li
ke a flaming hot sword, threatening to kill me.
My silence had hurt him. All he was trying to do was get to know me better. I had scars that I didn’t want to talk about but, unfortunately for me, they were in an extremely visible place and everyone who looked at me got to take in an eye full. It was also unfortunate for me that most people were nosy and felt the need to ask questions. Tyson wasn’t asking to be nosy. He asked because he cared. I’d had a lifetime of people not giving a shit about me. Now that I had someone to care, I didn’t need to mess it all up by being an A-hole and hurting their feelings and pushing them away from me.
I sighed heavily and placed my hand on top of his hand on my chest.
“She didn’t do this to me,” I whispered so quietly I almost didn’t hear my own words. I pressed down on where my hand covered his when I said it so he would know exactly what my words meant.
“I was maybe eight when it happened and I don’t even remember what his name was because he wasn’t around long enough for me to need to remember it. Or maybe I don’t remember it on purpose. He came home with her one night and acted like he had no intention of ever leaving again. He was a jobless loser she’d picked up at the club where she was working at the time. I don’t think anyone ever told her she wasn’t supposed to bring her work home with her. Anyway, a few days after he showed up, I had to leave school early because I got some horrid flu bug. I remember it being awful. My stomach hurt so bad and I couldn’t stop puking. When there was nothing left to puke I kept right on dry heaving. I had to walk home from school because my mother didn’t answer when the school called and nobody came to pick me up. It was a two mile walk in the cold and I had a fever and still don’t remember most of the walk home. But I made it and that’s the important part. I could have fallen down into a ditch and froze to death or something but I didn’t. I made it back to the apartment.”
I paused in my story to squeeze his hand to my chest tightly, probably too tightly. But if I hurt him he didn’t complain.
“She had been home when the school called and hadn’t bothered to pick up the phone. She’d been there when they left messages on the machine and had not cared even the tiniest bit. She had a man to entertain and coke to snort, nothing else had mattered. At the time, I hadn’t minded because it meant I could slip into the apartment unnoticed and hide out in my bedroom. I took some medicine that I found in the bathroom cabinet and passed out in my bed afterwards. I woke up hours later with him looming over me, demanding I get my ass out of bed and make him some dinner. I didn’t argue, I knew better. I went to the kitchen and made him some eggs and toast. The eggs… Well, the smell made me sick to my stomach. I ended up throwing up in his lap when I sat his plate in front of him on the kitchen table. He hit me once, right after I puked on him. He backhanded me. I blacked out when I hit the kitchen floor. I woke up when he put his cigarette out on me like I was his personal ashtray. He stuck around for a week longer and I got more of the same. I don’t even know why he left.”
I expected Tyson to say something when I stopped talking, like apologize to me or something equally stupid, but he didn’t say a word.
I forced my body to relax into the bed and against Tyson, not realizing how tense I had gotten while talking to him.
Talking about my feelings and my horrible past experiences hadn’t made me feel any better at all. Weren’t most girls supposed to enjoy talking about that shit? I apparently didn’t enjoy it and worried I now had a whole new set of nightmares to worry about having tonight.
“That bitch is lucky she’s already dead,” he rumbled menacingly, making me jump. I thought he might have fallen asleep but, apparently, I had been wrong.
“What?” I asked quietly, not believing he’d just said that.
“If that bitch wasn’t already dead, I would hunt her ass down and kill her myself. It wouldn’t be no damn accident and she would suffer greatly. For hours and hours. She got off way too easy and I fucking hate her even more for it.”
I couldn’t believe he just said that.
She was dead. What did it matter if she had suffered or not?
“Tyson, I-”
He kissed the top of my head. “Sleep, my sweet girl. I will watch over you and tomorrow I will go and get you a dreamcatcher and hang it up for you.”
“It will be pointless to hang it up in here,” I said sleepily.
“What?”
“Mr. Cole is moving. He wants me to go with him. I told Quinton that I am not going with Mr. Cole. I want to stay here but I don’t want to be homeless. I want to stay with you.”
“What did Uncle Quint say?” he asked me stiffly.
“That he’d take care of it and that he’d take care of me,” I slurred sounding half asleep because I mostly was.
“Good,” he breathed out in relief. “Now go to sleep, sweetheart. Just go to sleep. I will be here with you, to watch over you and chase away your bad dreams.”
I did as I was told and I drifted off to sleep held tightly in the safety of Tyson’s arms.
I dreamed of nothing.
I also missed it when Tyson pulled out his cellphone to call his Uncle Quinton.
They talked about me and I didn’t hear a single word of it.
Probably for the best.
Chapter Eight
I woke up alone in my bed. The early afternoon light spilled into my bedroom through the window. I had been sleeping in later and later every day. It was a weekday and I should have been in school. I didn’t miss getting up and ready for school in the mornings. To be honest, there wasn’t much I missed about school. I didn’t miss the asshole teachers like Mr. Franklin. I didn’t miss the asshole students. And I certainly didn’t miss the food or the homework. It’s not like they were teaching me how to cure cancer or anything of equal importance.
I stretched and sat up in bed. I needed a shower so I could wash off the grass stains on my knees. And I desperately needed to get out of these clothes that I felt like I had been wearing for a year but in reality, it had only been half a day.
The sound of male voices coming from downstairs caught my attention, drawing me away from the contents of the book I was reading. Since the funeral, Mr. Cole hadn’t had many visitors, and he hadn’t invited anyone into the house.
Curious, and I’ll admit it, nosy, I moved towards the stairs, trying to see if I could make out any of the voices.
I moved down the stairs on silent feet. I’d had plenty of practice in being quiet thanks to my mother. I’d learned to try my hardest to stay out of her way for fear of what she’d do to me if she took notice of me. It was never good.
When I hit the bottom of the stairs, I put my hand on the wall and slid along it until I was standing right outside the formal living room. My mother had loved this room. All the expensive furnishings had really done it for her. I didn’t get it. The furniture seemed too fancy for me to dare take a seat on it. And it looked uncomfortable and stiff.
Mr. Cole murmured something too quiet for me to hear and I crept a little bit closer. I froze at the sound of Quinton’s voice. What in the hell was he doing here talking to Mr. Cole?
I had a bad, bad feeling about this. Was he going to tell Mr. Cole that I had been wandering through the woods last night and then I had Tyson sleep over? I would kill him if he did.
“You’re bailing on her,” Quinton accused harshly. “She needs you and you’re fucking bailing on her.”
“My family needs me more right now,” Mr. Cole snapped back. “You don’t understand what they’re going through. You don’t understand what I’m going through. And how dare you come in here and get in my face without knowing what’s going on.”
I held my breath, wishing to be anywhere but here, listening to this conversation. Nothing good ever came from eavesdropping, I knew this. If I were smart, I’d walk away right this second and not look back.
“Bullshit, Marcus,” Quinton bit out. “You’re telling me you don’t think of that girl as family? Remember who you’re talki
ng to. I’ve known you most of my life, don’t lie to me. Are you in the habit of buying girls who don’t mean shit to you brand new cars? I don’t think so. For fuck’s sake, you even made her go to Liam’s funeral with you. You took her to your brother’s damn funeral. She means something to you and right now she needs you.”
I took a step back, ready to flee, but couldn’t force myself to move any further than that one step. They were talking about me and I wanted to know what they had to say. If they had been discussing someone else I probably would have walked away. I liked to think I would have walked away.
“Of course I think of Ariel as family. I’m not an asshole, Quint, but it’s time for me to move on. You boys are old enough to take care of yourselves. You don’t need me to watch over you anymore. And, I offered to bring her with me but she didn’t seem interested in moving.”
Calmly, like he wasn’t just about to drop a major bomb, Quinton said, “She’s like us, Marcus. My brothers and me and you. Ariel is exactly like us. You try to take her away from us and you won’t like the way it turns out. And, no, I’m not trying to threaten you, I’m simply being honest with you. We’ll fight to keep her with us. Even the two she thinks don’t like her very much will fight to keep her with us.” He paused and I inhaled sharply. Holy crap, he was unbelievable! “And, baby, I know you’re there. You might as well come out and join the conversation.”
Busted. Again.
I seriously sucked at this eavesdropping thing. First, Addison caught me. Now, it was Quinton. Damn.
I took a deep breath and stepped away from the wall. It was wrong to listen in on conversations that weren’t meant for me to hear. But, at the same time, they shouldn’t have been having this conversation without me.
