by A. R. Breck
My hair is curled for the first time in over a week, and the heels I'm wearing feel foreign to me as I slip them on my feet. When I glance in the mirror, I wish to see the old me. No luck on that, though. The person reflected in the mirror looks like a stranger. I’ve seen more, done more, felt more.
Nothing is the same.
I’m not the same.
My mom peeks around the corner, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Jeff just pulled up. Are you sure you don’t want to ride with us?”
“I’m fine. My ride will be here in a minute.”
“We can wait, and you and Cara can ride with us.”
“That’s okay. Meet you there.” I smile at her.
She still has no idea that it’s not Cara, but Easton who’s coming to dinner. I haven’t felt like correcting her, and now I’m just intrigued on how she’ll react when she sees some menacing guy barging in on her family dinner.
Once she leaves, I only have time to grab my clutch before the door knocks.
Wow, manners for once.
Walking up to the door, I open it and feel my jaw unhinge from its socket, falling right to the faded carpet.
“Shit. You look… so beautiful.” He rubs his stubbled jaw, and all it does is enhance his appearance. He looks so fucking hot.
I pull at the hem of my dress as his eyes assess every inch of my skin. I can feel his eyes trail over every curve. It unnerves me. Half of me feels warm under his stare, and the other half of me feels tarnished under everyone’s eyes.
“You clean up pretty nice yourself.” He’s wearing a pair of black dress pants and a dark gray button-down shirt that molds to his every muscle.
“Is the outfit new?” I ask. Usually dressed in joggers and a hoodie, this is a completely new look for him. I can barely take my eyes off of him.
“Nah. Just something I keep for a special occasion.” He smirks at me, and I think I turn into a puddle at his feet.
“Well, it certainly looks good on you.” I blush.
My body pleads to press up against his, but my brain still blares that red alert sign that’s telling me I’m not ready.
“Ready to go?” I think he can sense my unease, and I’m grateful for the topic change.
“No, not really. But I don’t have a choice.”
“Rose, we can do whatever you want. You want to try and go to dinner? We can do that. You want to skip it and go hide out somewhere? We can do that, too.”
The idea does sound appealing, except it’s my mother. “My mom is psychotic sometimes. I’m worried about what she'll do if I don’t show up. Let's just get this over with.” I grab my things and shut the door, locking it behind me.
Once we’re in his truck and driving to the restaurant on the edge of town, I glance at him and say, “So, I just wanted you to know, my mom doesn’t know you’re coming.”
He whips his head at me so fast and delivers me a harsh scowl. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“Well, I said a friend is coming, and she immediately thought I meant Cara. I never corrected her.” I grimace and watch as fury lines his features.
“Friend, huh? That’s all I am to you?” He snarls at me, making chills break out along my exposed arms.
“No, of course not. I just didn’t want to, I don’t know, drop that bomb on her right then.” Ugh, it sounds terrible when I say it out loud.
“Fuck that, Rose. Even my fucking father knows that we’re together. You embarrassed of me? Is that it? What, do I not dress nice enough for you or something? Live in a good enough home?” He lashes out on me. He’s more hurt than I thought he would be. But hurt isn’t what he’s showing me. He’s showing me pure anger. And he hasn’t directed his anger at me in a long time.
“I’m sorry, Easton. I guess there was really no true reason I didn't say anything.” And that’s the truth. There is no reason why I didn’t just tell her that I wanted to bring my boyfriend along. Now I feel like shit about it.
“That was a real bitch move, Rose.” He sneers at me.
“I’m sorry.” My eyes well up with tears. This dinner is ruined before it’s even started. I don’t want to be out in public in the first place, but now I have to be out in public with someone who can barely stand to look at me.
~
When we arrive at the restaurant after an awkward and uncomfortable car ride, my panic starts to rise when I see the overflowing parking lot. I glance over at Easton, but he’s already taken the keys out of the ignition and is stepping out of the car.
It looks like I’m on my own tonight.
I hop out of his truck which is much more difficult than I realized, considering the truck feels more like a monster truck than anything, and I’m in high heels and a short dress.
Easton, whose patience looks like it has already run thin, at least has the decency to wait for me at the door of the restaurant before heading inside.
The evil smirk on his face worries me, though.
I walk up to the hostess stand and let them know our party is already here. I’m glad my mom put the reservation under her name. I don’t even know what Jeff’s last name is.
I’m also grateful for the fact that my voice is practically back to normal. There is still some tenderness when I touch my throat, but my voice could pass as natural, so I don’t have to worry about getting any awkward stares tonight.
I also did a hell of a job with my makeup, and unless you stare too hard, no one will be able to notice the faded green bruises coloring my face.
On the walk back to our table, I feel the presence of Easton’s hand on the small of my back and freeze up. I look back at him with panicked eyes, but he does nothing except smirk at the table we’re walking towards.
That fucking smirk.
Why is he doing this? Is he testing me?
I can do this. I can deal with his hand on my back. It’s Easton, for fuck's sake. He might be a complete douche bag right now, but I hurt his feelings. Now I'm going to pay for being a dumbass.
I can do this.
I look at the table where my mom and Jeff sit. Jeff, with a smile on his face. My mother, with wide eyes and a stiff smile on her own. Both of them stand up once we reach the table. Mom leans over and is about to give me a hug when Easton intercepts it with his big paw of a hand.
“Easton Malone, Rose’s boyfriend.” Good God. He’s going full crazy tonight.
“Boyfriend?” My mom nearly shrieks, but realizes where she is and lowers her voice.
“Rose, nice to see you again.” Jeff reaches out to grab my hand, but once again, Easton blocks his path with his own handshake.
Jeff glances at us funny but takes the offered hand and smiles at Easton. “Nice to meet you, Easton.”
Easton pushes me down by the shoulder, and it feels like it’s a hot poker touching my skin and not his calloused hand. The pain is real, but it looks like Easton gives zero fucks tonight.
My mom looks at me with critical eyes. “I thought Cara was coming with you tonight.”
“I never said that.” I focus on putting my fabric napkin across my lap instead of looking into the accusing eyes of my mother. And Easton. “I said I was bringing a friend.”
Easton swears under his breath at the word friend. Thankfully, it’s loud enough in here where Jeff and my mom don’t hear it.
“And you never corrected me when I said you could bring Cara along.” She tilts her head, but I have no retort for that one. “I also didn’t realize you had a boyfriend. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well, um, it’s rather new.” I cringe and glance at Easton. His eyes have turned completely black, and he looks about ready to flip this table and all its cutlery over.
He looks like the Reaper.
"Actually, it’s really not. We’ve been dating for a while now, haven’t we Rose? She’s even met my father.”
My mom’s eye is twitching, and I wish I could open my mouth to make a joke, or even change the subject, but I’m frozen. I’m almost too scared to see w
hat’s going to happen next.
“You grew up in town, Easton?” Jeff says, taking a sip of his water. It looks like both Jeff and my mom are sober tonight. At least that’s one plus.
“Yeah, you might know my father. Richard Malone?” His smirk turns full force at this point and he shows off each one of his razor-sharp teeth.
Jeff chokes on his water, and my mom reaches over to pat him on the back. “Are you okay, Jeff?”
“Sorry, wrong tube.” He coughs and clears his throat before looking apprehensively at Easton. “I didn’t realize you were Rich’s son.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t catch the relation from my name.” Easton narrows his eyes.
“I-I guess it didn’t click in my head.” Jeff looks at Easton apologetically.
“What’s going on? Who is Richard Malone?” A few eyes glance our way from nearby tables with wide eyes before quickly looking away. Scared.
“He’s just a big name around these parts.” Jeff says evasively.
“Is that a good thing?” My mom snorts, making Jeff cringe, Easton scowls, and I glance down at my lap. “What does your father do for a living, Easton?” Shit, my mom’s bitchiness is coming out full force tonight.
“He’s in the trade business.” He takes a sip of water to hide his grin.
We’re momentarily interrupted by the waiter who takes our food order and departs without another word.
Easton once again wraps his arm around my chair, alternating between twirling my hair around his finger and grazing his fingers along my shoulder. My mom zeros in on the movements and narrows her eyes.
“So, Rose, how is your friend from Woodbury. What was his name, Corey, was it?” She tilts her head to the side and acts coy. This is Evil Mom coming out of her shell. Usually, she only comes out when she’s drunk, but apparently, she didn’t enjoy being blindsided by Easton.
Every time I hear that name now, my ears start ringing and I feel like my insides are being clawed apart. No one realizes it from just glancing at me. I’m sure all I have is a blank stare, but my insides feel like a blazing fire is tearing through it.
Easton can tell, though. He sees everything.
“Hopefully, halfway down the Mississippi River by now.” He mumbles.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Noth—” I try to extinguish the fire that is blazing, but I’m learning there is no stopping Easton when he gets like this.
“Exactly what I meant. I’m sure the shit is halfway down the Mississippi River, where I put him. That, or maybe his dad found him by now.”
We’re cut off when the waiter arrives with our food. Even when he leaves, no one says anything.
Such awkward silence.
“Easton, what did you do to Corey Aronole?” My mom grits through her teeth.
“Brenda, I think you need to stop talking now.” Jeff—fucking thankfully—says. He pats her hand and gives her a warning look, one she obviously has a hard time deciphering.
“If you want to know, Corey ra—” This time, I’m the one that cuts Easton off.
“Easton.” I grab onto his forearm and squeeze as hard as I can with my fingernails. I cannot have this conversation.
Not now.
Not here.
Not ever.
Easton glances over at me and sees that I’m near hyperventilating. I see him reign in his temper and his anger at the look of fear on my face. The darkness in his eyes fades a bit, enough to know I’m back in the safe zone. At least for now.
We all stare at each other as we pick at our food. All of us seemingly have lost our appetite.
“Rose, I’m glad you could make it this evening. I’ve wanted to get to know you a little better. Your mom has said so many good things about you.” He gives me a warm smile, and it’s then that I realize that he’s not a bad guy.
“Not sure about the company she keeps, though.” Mom mumbles under her breath.
Easton clenches his fork so hard I see it start to bend a little bit in the middle.
“Please, Brenda. Let’s just enjoy our dinner.” Jeff pleads.
My anxiety has decided that she’s had enough. All of this hostility at the table makes it hard to breathe. That, and when I turn my head to the side to seek some fresh air, I’m smacked in the face with the realization of how many people are really in this restaurant.
“I’m finished.” I push my food away, voice shaky.
Easton leans in way too close, although I’m learning he’s past giving any shits. “You okay?” He rasps, his clean scent wrapping around my senses.
I shake my head, no.
“Let’s head out then.” He pushes his chair back as he prepares to leave.
“Nice to meet you, Jeff. Brenda.” He gives a nod to Jeff and a snarl to my mom, who I can’t say doesn’t deserve it.
“Actually, Rose, I thought I would bring you home.” Mom says. The warning is clear as day. Easton is not approved of.
“No,” Easton says with apparent finality.
“Rose, let’s go.” My mom also pushes back her chair and stands to leave. “Jeff, do you want to take care of the bill and meet us in the car?” She’s already walking towards me, not listening to Jeff’s objections or the look of complete panic on my face.
Easton steps in front of me. “Brenda, I think that’s enough for one night. I’m going to take Rose home. You go home with Jeff, and you will see Rose tomorrow.” His big body stands directly in front of mine, so I can barely see my mom. Although, if I could guess, I would assume she has steam coming out of her ears right about now.
“Listen, boy. I’m not sure who you think you are, but you aren’t going anywhere with my daughter.” I glance around Easton and see her finger right up in his face. One flick of that finger, and he could snap it in two.
“All right, let’s go, Brenda. Easton, Rose, I’m sorry about this. We’ll talk soon.” Jeff grabs onto my mom, who protests all the way out the door about the thug who has ahold of her daughter. Eyes glance at Easton, but once they realize it’s Easton Malone she’s talking about, they give us an apologetic look and glance away.
Easton’s body shakes with rage as he stands there. Only a second later, he spins around and grabs my wrist, hauling me out of the restaurant. Practically tossing me into his truck like a gym bag, I grab ahold of the doorframe once he shuts the door. My body hurts, and my chest is racing. I’m scared and upset, and a million other emotions run through me that I can barely name at this point.
When Easton hops in the truck, he glances at me before he cranks on the ignition. His charcoal black eyes are back, and he almost looks at me like a stranger.
I glance away and look out the window, only thinking one thing—I’m fucked.
Chapter Eleven
When the rage overtakes me, all I see is blood.
Easton
I barely remember the drive back to my house.
Rose’s Mother is a fucking bitch. If she were anyone else, I would have taken the gun out of the back of my jeans and blown a hole right through her negative fucking mouth. I’m sure she wants some Harvard, Ivy League, Corey clone to walk on in and swoop her off her feet.
Too bad I found her first.
Also too bad, that’s not Rose’s type. Her mother has a completely different outlook on Rose than who she really is. She doesn’t understand her, and I think that breaks Rose’s heart.
Rose doesn’t say anything to me from the other side of the truck. I think she’s terrified of me right now, but I don’t have any restraint in me to calm that shit down. I need to hit someone, or kill someone, or fuck someone. But, right now, all three of those are out of the question.
That’s what happens when I don’t fight people on the regular. This shit builds up, and I feel like I’m about to fucking explode.
When we get to my house, I storm out of my truck and into my room, pacing around like a wild animal. What is Brenda’s deal with me? Why doesn’t she think I’m not good enough for her daught
er? This shit is driving me wild. Not only that, but how she talked to me really fucking grinded on my gears. I don’t put up with that shit, not ever.
When I hear the tap of heels coming my way, I turn around so quick that Rose screams.
“Easton, what are you doing?” She cries, plastering herself so close to the wall I know she wants to disappear inside of it.
I cage her in and press my entire body up against hers. “I’m so fucking pissed off right now.” I seethe.
“P-please back up a little.” She whimpers.
“You’re mine. I will not let your bitch of a mother get in the way of that.”
“Okay. But please, back up.” Her voice wobbles, along with her chin.
“I’m done with this shit, Rose. You’re mother; she’s a fucking bitch. I’m done with everyone.”
“I know.” She looks at me, and I know she believes it, yet she still tries to back out of my hold.
“You’re mine.” I reiterate.
“I know.”
“Quit fighting me,” I growl.
“I don’t know how. It hurts.” She wails. “Everywhere you touch hurts.”
“Power through that shit, Rose. It’s just me. You don’t want anyone to touch you ever again? Fine, except for me. Power through it. Because. You. Are. Mine.”
She cries when I run my nose up along her neck and inhale her floral scent. “Memorize my touch. It’s just me.”
“It hurts.” She says again, her voice shaking in fear and pain.
“Fight it, Rose. Fucking fight it!” I bark, my rage too much. Way too much. I’m left feeling sideways after the dinner with her mom, and I need nothing except to feel the touch of my girlfriend. I don’t want her to have pain. I want her to feel the same way that I feel when she touches me.
Need. Want. Warmth.
I grab onto her biceps tightly and dive in for a kiss. Fuck it. She thinks that going slow is the answer. I say fuck that. Demolish it and send it to hell with Corey.
She fights me only for a second but then gives in. Finally.
Finally.
I could weep with the relief filled agony that I feel when she reaches up and grabs onto my hair, pulling me tighter but also pushing me away.
