by Rye Hart
But Jane was pretty in a way I didn’t think I’d ever be, so there was no reason to think Grant would ever like me.
Even though I wanted him to.
“Theresa?” Jane asked.
“Yep?”
“Your Dad sounds angry. Can you hear him out there?” she asked.
I furrowed my brow as I started walking down the hallway. She was right. Dad was arguing with someone. I immediately assumed Hollis had gotten caught sneaking back into the house. He was always doing stupid stuff like that; sneaking out with friends and joyriding into all hours of the morning. But my father wasn’t arguing with Hollis.
He was arguing with Grant.
“Daddy?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
“You stay out of this,” he said.
“Don’t talk to her like that. Nothing’s going on, I swear,” Grant said.
“What’s he talking about?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
“Laura, get her out of here,” my father said.
“Come on, honey. Let’s get Jane home,” my mother said.
“No. Wait a second. What’s going on? Why is Dad upset with Grant?” I asked.
“Did you touch her?” my father asked.
“No, Mr. Peterson. I swear. I would never touch her,” Grant said.
“You’d better be telling me the truth.”
“Daddy! Stop! What are you talking about?”
“Theresa, we should really leave,” Jane said.
My mother was tugging me, and Jane was pushing me out the door. I wanted to get to Grant, to defend him against my father. Why was he so angry and asking him if he’d touched me? I felt panic rising in my chest as my mother, and my best friend pushed me toward the car.
“Stop yelling at him!” I exclaimed. “Mom, what’s going on?”
“We need to get Jane home,” she said.
I wrenched away from them and stuck my finger in my mother’s face.
“Tell me right now why Daddy’s yelling at Grant,” I said.
My mother sighed as the front door opened. I whipped around and heard my father’s boisterous voice as Grant stormed out of the house. My father was pointing and yelling, his face red with anger. Grant’s eyes raised to mine, filled with confusion and questions. I reached out toward him, but he stumbled away from me, trying to get far away quickly.
Tears welled in my eyes as I watched him walk off, and I heard something land in the yard. My father, with anger in his eyes and a hissing sound in his voice, was tossing Grant’s things onto the front lawn.
“Daddy! What are you doing?” I asked.
“Come on, sweetheart. Jane needs to get home,” my mother said.
“Not until someone answers me!”
“Theresa, we don’t owe you any explanation. We’re your parents. Now get in the car,” my mother said.
“No.”
“Get in,” she said, her voice taking on a frustrated tone.
“Come on, Theresa. Get in,” Jane practically begged, obviously wanting to get far away from whatever the hell was happening.
“You will do as your mother asks,” my father commanded.
I whipped around and saw him standing behind me. I looked beyond him and saw Grant picking up his things from the lawn. He was shoving them into a trash bag before he slung it over his shoulder. His eyes rose to mine, and I could see the fear and uncertainty on his face. He stood tall and rolled his shoulders back, his eyes locking with mine one last time.
Then he turned on his heels and walked down the road carrying his only possessions with him.
“I hate you,” I said, seething.
“I don’t know what that boy did to you, but you will not speak to your mother, and I like this,” my father said.
“He didn’t do anything to me!” I exclaimed.
“Get in the car!” my father roared.
“No!”
Tears were pouring down my cheeks as I ran away from my parents. I wanted to run after Grant, but I knew that would simply make them angrier. I ran up the opposite end of the road, hoping to wrap around and catch Grant as he was leaving the neighborhood. I didn’t know where he was going or why any of this had happened, but I wanted to catch him.
I didn’t know what in the hell my father was talking about.
I huffed and puffed as I made my way around the neighborhood. Tears were streaming down my neck as my eyes darted around for him. I walked through the woods, wondering if maybe he took a shortcut. I knew that he and my brother had some sort of treehouse or abandoned barn in the woods they would always go to when things became too much. Maybe he was there, biding his time until my parents would let him come back.
They wouldn’t really kick him out.
Not after what his own parents had done to him.
But the longer I walked, the more my heart sank to my toes. When I made my way back home, my mother rushed out to get me. My father was glaring at me and tears were still falling from my eyes.
I didn’t care what they thought any longer.
My heart was breaking.
My mother sat me down at the kitchen table, and I stared off through the window. I was angry with my father. I hated him, in fact. My mother set some water in front of me, but I shoved it away. I didn’t want water. Or food. Or air.
I wanted Grant.
Only Grant.
But he was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Chapter 2
Grant
“Hollis. Upstairs.”
“What?” Hollis asked.
“Get upstairs, honey,” Laura said.
“What’s going on?” Hollis asked.
“Do what your mother says,” Glen said.
I got up to walk out of the room, but Glen reached his hand out and placed it against my chest.
“You’ll stay here,” he said.
I looked over at Hollis. He furrowed his brow. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I knew it wasn’t good. Had they figured out we snuck out a couple of nights ago? It was just a stupid party. There wasn’t even any beer. The girl’s fucking parents had been upstairs the entire damn time. It was lame.
Just the type of party Laura and Glen would’ve wanted us at.
“Now I’m going to ask you a question, and I expect you to answer it,” Glen said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you leading Theresa on?” Glen asked.
“Wait, what?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“Have you touched our daughter?” Laura asked.
I balked at the woman before I started to laugh.
“You can’t be serious. Theresa?” I asked.
“Yes!” Glen bellowed. “Theresa! My daughter!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down.”
“Don’t you tell me to calm down, boy. You tell me right now, have you touched our daughter in any way? Have you laid your hands on her?”
“No, Mr. Glen. I would never do that to her. Or to you,” I said.
“You’re lying to me.”
“No, sir. I’m not. I haven’t ever touched Theresa.”
“Do you believe him?” Glen asked as he looked back at his wife.
I looked over at her and saw the hesitation in her eyes. What was going on? Had something happened? I mean, I knew I stole glances at her every now and again.
Thersa was a special girl. A great personality and a killer smile, despite all her awkward teenage-ness. But after what they had done for me? Taking me in after my parents kicked me out.
I would never betray their trust like that.
“Look, you guys have to believe me. I don’t know what’s going on, but you guys have been my saving fucking grace.”
“Language,” Laura said.
“Sorry. Sorry. I would never do that to Theresa,” I said. “And I would never break your trust like that, Mr. Glen. You’ve gotta believe me.”
“Maybe I misunderstood what she said, Glen,” Laura said.
I swung my eyes her way.
Had Theresa said I’d done something to her?
“I’m not a bad guy, Mr. Glen. I would treat Theresa with respect like she deserves.”
“So you do admit it. You have a thing for my daughter,” he said.
“No, I don’t. But you’re making it sound like I’m some sort of predator.”
“Daddy?” Theresa asked, coming into the room, a look of horror on her face. “What’s going on?”
“You stay out of this,” Glen said.
“Don’t talk to her like that. Nothing’s going on, I swear,” I said.
“What’s he talking about?” Theresa asked. “What’s going on?”
“Laura, get her out of here,” Glen said.
“Come on, honey. Let’s get Jane home,” Laura said.
“No. Wait a second. What’s going on? Why is Dad upset with Grant?” Theresa asked.
I could hear the panic in her voice as I turned my gaze toward her. Theresa’s hair was wild from sleep, and her glasses were cock-eyed on her face. She was wearing her same clothes from yesterday.
But I hated the look of fear in her eyes.
“Did you touch her?” Glen asked me again.
Laura and Jane were tugging her out of the house. Trying to get her out of harm’s way. I felt this argument going down a very dark path, and I wasn’t sure I could find a way out of it.
“Dad? What’s going on?” Hollis asked.
“Get back up to your room,” Glen said.
“No. Now I heard this argument from upstairs, and I can tell you for a fact that Grant’s never laid a finger on Theresa. If he did, he’d be dead. Because I’d kill him,” Hollis said.
“He’s right,” I said. “Your son would kill me for it.”
“I don’t give a damn who’s right and who’s wrong. I can’t have your kind of influence hanging over my daughter the way it is. My wife stood at her door last night and listened to her and Jane giggle about all sorts of things a fifteen-year-old girl should never be contemplating when it comes to an eighteen-year-old boy.”
I stood there stunned by his words. Theresa had been talking about me in a sexual manner?
“I want you out of this house,” Glen said.
The words were like a punch to my chest.
“Dad, you can’t kick him out. He doesn’t have anywhere else to go,” Hollis said.
“You stay out of this. Grant, I want you out of this house now,” Glen said again.
“I told you I never touched her!”
“Dad, stop it,” Hollis said. “You can’t kick Grant out. This is madness.”
“I can, and I will. We both know the potential your sister has. And whatever he’s done to lead her on, stops now,” Glen said.
“Fuck you,” I growled. I was pissed that they thought I would do something to Theresa, and I was tired of trying to defend myself against it.
Glen Peterson could go straight to hell.
I watched Glen march down the hallway as I stalked out of the house. I needed to breathe. I needed to collect myself. Part of me wanted to salvage the situation, but part of me didn’t want to. I was eighteen. I could go and do as I pleased. They’d tried to shove college down my throat, and they had once blamed me for Hollis’ unwillingness to go to school.
It was more than clear that they just thought I was a bad seed, hell-bent on corrupting their kids.
I could hear Theresa’s voice emanating from the driveway as I walked along the sidewalk. I turned around and saw Glen tossing my stuff out the damn door, and for a moment, I saw my father; the anger in his eyes and the harshness of his motions.
I saw my father in Glen’s face, and I knew then, and there I would leave.
I’d leave it all behind to strike out on my own.
Theresa continued to argue and defy her parents. I’d never seen Theresa combative like that, and part of me grinned in pride. She was strong. I always knew she was. Hiding behind those baggy clothes, self-conscious about her body. Stuck behind those glasses and her books and her awkward little walk.
But I knew. I knew she’d grow into a smart, remarkable, beautiful young woman.
Too bad I wasn’t going to be around to see it.
I grabbed a trash bag from the side of the road and emptied it. I went and stuffed in all the clothes Glen had tossed out onto the lawn. I tossed it over my shoulder and headed down the road, making my way for the shed Hollis, and I sometimes hung out in.
I walked through the woods until I reached the abandoned structure. I pried the doors open, taking stock of the truck inside. It was a project Glen and I had taken on when I learned how to drive. They couldn't afford to get me a car, so I told Glen I’d get a part-time job to pay for the parts to fix up an old truck I’d found that I wanted. Five hundred up front plus the cost of all the fixing up, and four thousand dollars later I had a running pickup truck I could call my own.
I tossed my trash bag full of clothes into the back, fished the keys out from on top of the tire, and hopped into the front seat.
I didn’t have much to my name; a few thousand I’d saved up from working summers around town. I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I knew I couldn't stay there. I cranked up the truck, and it sputtered, but after a couple of tries, I got her to rev up. I slowly drove her out of the woods and onto the main road, and I took Main Street out of Bar Harbor and headed south.
For a moment, I smiled. I smiled at the memories I’d made with Glen while trying to fix this damn thing, so it worked. The things he’d done over the past five years that had convinced me he cared. And now he’d just thrown me away like a piece of trash. I hopped onto the highway heading toward Massachusetts, not knowing what my future held for me.
I drove all through the night until I hit the Massachusetts border, then I pulled into a rest stop and prepared myself for some sleep.
I leaned the seat back and folded my arms across my chest. I closed my eyes and smiled as Theresa’s face appeared in my vision. Her innocent hazel eyes and her thick brown hair. That cute little smile with those chubby cheeks. I’d never admit it to Glen, but I did have a thing for his daughter. She was innocent and smart and curvy in all the right places. What looked like baby fat now, would smooth out into wonderfully thick thighs and an ass I’d want to sink my teeth in someday.
Hell no, I never touched her. And I didn’t have any plans to either. But fuck, it didn’t stop her innocence from calling to me. She was an angel hidden underneath layers of insecurities, and my hands longed to strip her of those, fully exposing her to me after peeling back every layer before showing her how a real man treated his girl.
I would never have touched her until she turned eighteen. I respected Glen and what he’d done for me too much. But it was something that wouldn’t happen any longer. Good, upstanding people never really cared for bad seeds like me. Kids who came from poor homes and had holes in their shoes. They cared until it was too tough to care. They cared until it affected how their perfect little children grew up. If they knew all the hot water Hollis and I had gotten into over the years, they’d fucking flip.
It didn’t matter anymore, though.
Nothing did.
I fell asleep that night with Theresa on my mind. I needed to be figuring out what my next fucking move was, where I was going to live and how I was going to get money to fend for myself. But I couldn’t shake her smile. Or her laughter. Or the way her eyes lit up when she was reading a book she enjoyed.
I also couldn’t shake her defiance; the way her eyes had flared with anger when she came down the stairs that morning. I couldn’t shake the way she shrieked after me. Screamed for her father to stop. Too bad that’d be the first and last time I’d see that side of Theresa.
I turned over onto my side and drew in a deep breath. I could get a few hours of sleep before I needed to find a gas station and get back on the road.
The farther I got away from Bar Harbor, Maine, the better off I’d be.
End of Sneak Peek. Would you like to know how this continues
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COPYRIGHT © 2018 RYE HART - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. While, as in all fiction, the literary perceptions and insights are based on life experiences and conclusions drawn from research, all names, characters, places and specific instances are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. No actual reference to any real person, living or dead, is intended or inferred.
