by L. A. Fiore
“Maybe, but since all the ink on you has a meaning, I'm guessing this does too.”
He traced my jaw, his eyes tracking the motion. “I read once that dragons symbolize courage, strength and a strong will—all traits I want to emulate. Blue represents the sky. When I was little, I used to look up at the vastness of it and knew that there was so much more to the world than my tiny little part in it and that knowledge made the intolerable, tolerable.”
“And the ruby-red eyes?”
He chuckled, “Reminds me of laser beams, a super power I wish I had on more than one occasion when dealing with my parents.”
Pressing my lips to his dragon. I felt a tear slip from under my closed lid to drip on his chest. He, obviously, felt it too when he touched my chin with his finger and lifted my gaze to his.
“Lark?”
“They may have given you life, but they don't deserve you.”
He pinned me under him, his expression raw as love looked back at me. He started to work off my panties before he stopped abruptly.
“Don't stop.” I whispered breathlessly. When my eyes opened, I saw his hesitation, his concern for me. I loved him all the more for it. Reaching for him, I slipped his hand under my panties and guided him to the part of me that ached for him.
“Please don't stop.”
His kiss branded me with its intensity, erasing all the ugliness and leaving only the beauty that was Bastian and me. He pulled my panties down my legs and I spread them wider and lifted my hips in invitation. He reached for the condom and slipped it on before settling over me and when he joined us, it was deliberate…almost lazy. His mouth sealed over mine just before I came to swallow my cry. I felt him tense right before he followed me.
An hour later, we came downstairs. Poppy and her parents were already filling their travel mugs with coffee. Bastian followed me, but as soon as we entered the kitchen, he walked straight to Mr. Wright and shook his hand.
“Hello sir.”
“Bastian, it's good to see you.”
“And you, sir.” Dr. Wright lowered her mug and pulled Bastian into a hug. She whispered something into his ear, but I couldn't hear it and when she stepped away, his eyes looked suspiciously moist.
Poppy, being so in-tune to others, took the focus off him and asked, “Lark, are you riding with Bastian to school?”
“Yes.”
“All right, I'll see you there.” She walked past Bastian and he leaned over to kiss her cheek. She continued past me with a face that was on fire. I couldn't help my grin.
“Would you mind if Bastian and I made dinner?”
Dr. Wright smiled, big and pretty in response. “I would love that.”
“Dominic is joining us tonight as well. He wants to see you, Bastian, and he has some things he wants to share.” Mr. Wright said cryptically.
“Thank you, sir, for calling him.”
“You had enough to handle last night.”
My attention turned to Bastian, “Maybe we could stop by a grocery store after you pick me up from school?”
“Sure.”
Though it was the end of February, the weather warmed up as we made our way along the quiet country roads. With a day as glorious as this one, it was easier for me to push the ugly ordeal with Brad from my thoughts. I tilted my head back so I could look up at the sky—so bright a blue, with wisps of clouds that looked like white brush strokes across an azure canvas. Bastian was right, looking up into the vastness made you feel so small. It really did put things into perspective.
I squeezed his arm and signaled for him to pull over and as soon as he did, I climbed off. He shut down his bike and met my gaze with a look of concern. “What's wrong?”
“I think you should stay to finish out high school and be with me. I think we should march ourselves right into your parents’ home with Mr. Wright, my uncle and your brother and tell your parents as much. We should stand up to them and maybe with an audience they'll be less inclined to follow through on their threats. Damn it, Bastian, we need to live our lives and not the ones they're trying to force on us. What do you say?”
He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans with a smile. “I say you're fucking incredible.”
“Can you get out of the apprenticeship now and still be able to rejoin them in the summer?”
“Yes.”
“I want to walk down the halls in school holding your hand. I want to see your face at my locker. I want to secretly hold hands in English and share lunches together. I want to make love to you when the mood strikes. I want to laugh with our friends and go to parties. I want to live like a teenager while we are teenagers. Your parents have no right to take that away from us.”
“Agreed, but I have a confession.”
“What?”
“I wasn't going back. I had already decided to stay. The rest of my stuff is arriving today.”
My eyebrow rose slightly at that. “Really?” Tidbits of conversations with him and Dr. Wright popped into my head as I narrowed my eyes at him. “What did Dr. Wright say to you?”
He looked uncomfortable, “She told me she was glad that I took their advice and decided to stay, reminded me I was welcome to a guest bedroom and she let me know she cleared it all with the school. Since I've already taken all of my exams, I can basically audit all the classes.”
“When did you talk to her?”
“Repeatedly, since the day I left.”
“Fought harder.” I muttered.
“What's that mean?”
“Nothing, just an answer to a riddle. So you're staying. Are you going to stay at the Wrights'?”
“For the time being, yes.”
Joy filled me and I launched myself into his arms. When he pulled me close and held me there, yes, that was exactly what I was talking about.
***
As soon as we pulled into the school parking lot, the stares started. When we climbed from the bike and walked hand in hand through the doors, the whispers followed. Bastian walked me to my locker and on the way countless people welcomed him back. When we parted for homeroom, he kissed me long and hard right there in the middle of the hallway. After morning announcements, he was waiting for me and together we walked to English.
Kira was already seated next to Mica and, based on the look of her, she had heard about Bastian's return. My gaze met Mica’s and we shared a smile. After what she had done for me, clearly I had been wrong about her, but the same could not be said of Kira. The idea that she had been complacent with the Rosses' attempt to manipulate Bastian, particularly when she had feelings for him, stirred my temper. My voice was loud enough to carry, “Yes, he's back, and yes, he's still with me.” I leaned over so we were nearly touching noses. “So go ahead and run to the Rosses and tell them.”
Maybe it was wrong to find joy in her discomfort, but I did. Bastian spoke up from behind me. “Is it any wonder why I'm so crazy in love with her?”
He pressed a kiss to the side of my head before we took our seats, and for the first time in almost three months, I really enjoyed English class.
After school we were heading to Bastian's bike when he looked over at me and asked, “Do you mind if we detour to the garage?”
“Not at all. You want to talk with Caden?”
“Yeah.” Bastian stopped walking and turned to me. The look in his eyes surprised me, it was a combination of tenderness and pain. “Do you know about Caden's family?”
“He mentioned that they had died, but he didn't say more and I didn't want to pry.”
Bastian inhaled deeply, letting it out slowly, before he began. “Caden lost his family in a car wreck when he was younger. He was at a friend's house and his family was coming to get him so they could all go out for ice cream. A truck was going too fast to stop in time for a red light and hit them. His dad and mom were killed instantly, but his younger brother held on for a few days before he died. Caden believes it's his fault—if he hadn't been at his friend's or if he had said no to ice
cream, his family wouldn't have been at that intersection at the exact time as the truck. And if that wasn't bad enough, he was placed in the system and moved in and out of foster homes.”
My heart constricted in pain just thinking of Caden taking responsibility for something he had no control over.
“I met him four years later, hanging at a field I used to sneak off to to practice soccer. I thought my life was bad, but he had bruises on him. Apparently his foster father liked taking out his frustrations on Caden. I sneaked him home, and with a house as big as the one I grew up in, and the fact that my parents never paid me any attention, no one ever knew. Well, our cook did, she started making larger portions of meals that Caden and I would eat in my room. We figured his foster father kept taking the money from the state and didn’t turn him in.”
“For a year Caden lived at my house, and when he turned sixteen, I asked Dominic to help emancipate him. We both got jobs with Cal, another former foster child.”
“Most people who meet Caden see a hard guy, and in many respects he is that now, but there's still that damaged fifteen-year-old kid in there. You saw that and even without realizing it you gave him the one thing he's still starved for, friendship and family. You did it for me too, Lark, you gave me what I've always been starved for: love.”
I wiped at my face with the back of my hand. “And you gave it right back to me.”
He kissed my forehead, his lips lingering a minute. “I didn't mean to make you cry, but I thought you should know about Caden. He doesn't talk about it, but I know he'd want you to know. He took to you from the very beginning—kindred spirits and all.”
“He lives alone in that little apartment.” I said.
“I know. Dominic offered him a room, but he's too proud to take it.”
“Dr. Wright adores him.”
Bastian's eyebrow rose in question, “Meaning?”
“I'll let her work on him. She's just as unhappy as me that he lives in that little hovel and as she's always saying, they've got more rooms than they could ever possibly hope to fill.”
Bastian laughed out loud. Then he reached for my hand and planted a kiss in my palm. His eyes were twinkling with humor. “Certainly not for a lack of trying.”
We stopped off at the garage and Bastian and Caden had a heart-to-heart which ended in a hug, and not a guy hug, but a real hug. When asked to come to dinner, Caden jumped at the opportunity.
We detoured to the grocery store. Shopping with Bastian and Caden, when they were both hungry, turned out to be dangerous. Watching the two of them going up and down the aisles of the store, dropping things into the cart, reminded me of the old eighties video game Pac-Man. Something I noticed about both of them, something I think was completely unconsciously done, was they were adding things to the cart for the family: a tub of Dr. Wright’s favorite ice cream, Poppy's favorite chocolate, several canisters of mixed nuts for Mr. Wright, Diet Coke for me.
I wish I had known them at fifteen, wished I had been the third musketeer, but I was so happy that I knew them now. Bastian's touch to my back pulled me from my thoughts.
“Did we get everything for dinner?”
I looked at the overflowing cart and grinned, because I had meant to come here for the fixings for chicken parmigiana, and instead we bought out the place.
“And then some.”
His grin was completely unrepentant. “We're growing boys.”
“Eating like that, it's a wonder you aren't growing out as well as up.”
He lowered his mouth to mine and whispered, “Jealous?”
“Hell yes, I'm jealous.” I looked over at a smiling Caden. “Good thing you've got your car.”
He winked at me as he took the cart and rolled toward the check-out. “Let's go, I'm hungry.”
“Really? I never would have guessed that.” My comment was met with laughter.
Two hours later the chicken cutlets were ready to go into the oven to finish baking in the homemade sauce I had whipped up. Bastian was cutting the vegetables for the salad and Caden was setting the table.
And when Dominic walked in not long after the Wrights did, I got a little gushy at the reunion between Bastian and his brother.
We all just sat around the kitchen talking. I had my iPod on in the background, since I liked to cook to music. I was more than a little surprised when Michael Buble's “Save The Last Dance For Me” came on and Mr. Wright stood, grabbed my hand, and drew me into the middle of the kitchen where he proceeded to lead me through an upbeat fox trot. I had no idea what I was doing, but Mr. Wright was such a good dancer, I fell into step like I was a natural. When Bastian cut in, held me close, and proved to be as good a dancer as Mr. Wright, I got giddy. When the song ended, he dipped me and brushed his lips over my temple.
“Thank you.” he whispered.
And just like clockwork, my knees went weak.
***
Later we all sat around the dining room table and at a lull in the conversation, Dominic spoke up. “I've been waiting to see if Mom and Dad followed through on their various threats.”
Bastian tensed at my side. “Have they?”
“No, but I think they haven't because they're unable to.”
“Meaning?” Bastian asked.
“Apparently, the loan against Cal's garage that my parents were threatening to call in was recently paid in full and a new loan, with far better terms, was worked out with Cal and a third party. The terms of the loan are so good that Cal is planning on expanding his business—a dream of his.”
“Who paid off the loan?” Poppy asked.
“Well, that's the weird part. It was handled all very privately, the actual third party is an unknown. However, the loan was paid off in the name of Larkspur O'Bannion.”
All eyes immediately turned to me. “Don’t look at me, I don't have that kind of money. Was it my uncle?”
“My first thought too, but it wasn't him. There's more. There's a tract of land outside of town that my parents have been itching to purchase so they can build cheap homes and charge a fortune for them. The town council's been fighting it, but my parents and a few of their backers have the money and the connections and the proposal recently passed through all the appropriate channels. My parents were in the final negotiations for the purchase of the land, when some unknown conglomerate, and I'm talking the amount of wealth this group is throwing around is mind boggling, bought it right out from under them.”
Poppy's gaze flickered to me. “It's like we've got our own guardian angel.”
Dominic continued. “I don't know who this third party is, but the money and the connections they have make my parents look like dirt farmers. What really impresses me is the big brass ones they've got, because they aren't even trying to hide the fact that they're singling out my parents. Who would be doing something like this for you, Lark?”
“For me? I don't know anybody.” I held Dominic's stare and saw what he was thinking. “You think it could be my biological father?”
“Yes.”
The thought that it could be ignited a rage in me, which rapidly grew into an inferno.
“Well, if he knows of me, why hasn't he ever come to see me? Why step in now when I could have used him when I was four and my mom lost me in the mall because she detoured to a bar and got roaring drunk and left with some man. Or maybe when I was five and almost died of hypothermia because my mom locked me out of the apartment when I was outside playing in the snow and proceeded to pass out. Or how about when I was six and I got second degree burns on my hands because I was trying to boil some water to make myself something to eat since my mother had forgotten to come home in three days.”
I stood then and slammed my palms down on the table. My anger wasn't directed at Dominic, but at the idea that I did have a father who never came forward except to play the man behind the curtain. As if that was going to make all the years of neglect okay.
“If it is my father, he's a little too late. I would have loved to have
someone tuck me in at night and make me feel safe and secure. To have someone, anyone, to pick me back up when I fell and to hold my hand when I lost my way. To give me at least one person in my life who gave shit if I lived or died.”
Fueled by fury, my feet carried me out of the room and right out of the house, the door slamming closed behind me. I didn't stop walking, and didn't realize how far I'd walked, until I came to our spot near the river. I dropped down under our tree, pulled my knees up and rested my head on them and cried. I cried for the little girl I had been and for the childhood I never had.
Sometime later I heard the sound of Bastian's bike as I stood and watched as he parked and shut off the engine. When he reached me, he folded me into his arms, rocking me gently. I could feel the wetness of tears on his skin.
I touched his face and asked, “What's this for?”
“That little girl you described, knowing it was you, Jesus Christ, Lark, that broke my fucking heart. She may have given you life, but your mom didn't deserve you.”
I reeled to hear my own words spoken back to me with such conviction. His fingers threaded through my hair to hold my gaze on him. “I will be there to kiss your wounds when you hurt; I will be there to dry your tears when you cry; I will tuck you in and vow to keep you safe and secure; I will help you up, carrying you if needed, when you fall and I will hold your hand so tightly in mine that you will never ever lose your way. But mostly, Lark, I will love you so completely that you will never again be lost, lonely or terrified.” He placed my hand over his heart. “I swear that to you.”
Love swelled in me as I reached for him and kissed him, his perfect words echoing in my head. And deep inside of me, in a place that had been broken by my childhood, the wound started to heal.
Chapter Thirteen
It took no time at all for our lives to return to normal with only the smallest difference, Bastian didn't have any homework or exams and so he could literally sit and watch me do my homework while feasting on his much-loved potato chips. It wasn't right.
Caden proved to be like the rest of us mere mortals and completely caved under the pressure of Dr. Wright, moving into the house only days after Bastian returned. Dr. Wright felt as Poppy and I did, we wanted the family, and we were a family, to always be close by. It was nice with all of us together even if Poppy and Caden had taken to bickering with each other like an old married couple.
