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Keep From Falling (Markson Grove Series Book 1)

Page 32

by Amy Vanessa Miller


  I hear a knock on the door downstairs and grab my bag, making my way toward the staircase. As I’m approaching the door, however, my dad shows up out of nowhere and answers it before I can.

  To say Evan is startled by my father’s presence would be putting it mildly. He’s a stuttering mess and why wouldn’t he be? I told him only five minutes earlier that the coast was clear.

  I reach the door as Evan stumbles over his final words. He’s trying to ask for permission to see me, but it’s not coming out as anything more than gibberish.

  “I’m just driving her to school,” he finally manages in an actual structured sentence just as I push my dad aside to join him on the porch.

  “We’re late, Dad,” I say, taking Evan’s hand into mine and starting toward the patio stairs. Evan hesitantly follows behind me.

  “No wait, wait,” Dad says, almost sounding amused. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Bree?”

  I turn around. “I wasn’t planning on it,” I say with a hint of irritation in my voice.

  He ignores my words and puts his hand out to shake Evan’s. “You must be Evan,” he says, taking a step toward us. “I’m Dean. I’ve heard a lot about you, son.”

  Evan’s face turns pale. He shifts his weight uncomfortably, and I think I even see him taking a step away from my father. It’s cute. My dad couldn’t hurt a fly even if he’d want to, and there honestly isn’t much about him that’s intimidating. Evan doesn’t know that, though.

  Dad smiles, and not a condescending smile either, a sincere one.

  “Mr. Porter,” Evan starts to say, but dad cuts him off.

  “Listen Evan, I know my wife doesn’t think much of you and I can’t change that. She’s a very passionate and stubborn woman. But I can tell that my daughter has really taken to you, and she usually is a pretty good judge of character, so that makes you ok in my books. Are we clear?”

  “Um… I guess?” Evan says like it’s a question, then turns to look at me in bewilderment.

  I shrug, feeling just as lost as he is.

  “What are you doing, Dad?” I ask, calling him out on his good guy approach. “You do know that he was in my room with me last night, right?”

  Evan shoots me an astounded look that seems to say ‘seriously?’ and I smile at him apologetically. The last thing I want is to make him even more uncomfortable than he already is, but my dad is acting strange and I can’t just let that go. This isn’t typical behavior for Dean Porter.

  Dad looks at me disappointedly, “Yes Bree. So I’ve been told. But you know, I don’t think he was the only one participating in that, do you?”

  He’s good. Dammit.

  “And besides,” he continues, uncomfortably shoving his hands into his pockets. He seems to be unsure if he should say what it is he wants to say next, but he goes ahead and says it anyway. “He’s not the first person you’ve been alone with in your bedroom. Your mom doesn’t trust him because he’s a boy. Your mom is a bit clueless though, isn’t she?”

  My entire body freezes in place. Evan lets go of my hand and leans in to me. “I’m going to go wait in the car,” he whispers. He walks down the steps and makes his way to his mother’s car. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near this conversation and I don’t blame him. If I could, I’d run from this conversation too. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Porter.”

  My dad smiles kindly at him, giving him a quick wave before turning his attention back to me.

  “How did you know?” I ask once I manage to find my voice again.

  “I’ve known for a while, baby.”

  “Are you going to tell Mom?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope.”

  “Why are you telling me then?”

  He shrugs. “Evan seems like a really nice boy and I’m sure he treats you really good, Bree. But I’m worried that you are only with him because you feel like you have something to prove to your mother. She’s been pushing the idea of dating boys onto you a lot in the last few years. So I guess what I’m asking is, could there a part of you that might only be doing this for her approval, maybe? Because if that’s the case, sweetie, you can stop right now. I will never disown you for who you are, and I would never let your mother disown you either.”

  My breath catches in my throat, my knees buckle, and my face crumbles. In a matter of seconds, I’m a blubbery mess. Words can’t express what that one sentence does to me.

  “Thank you,” I manage to say through my mess of tears. I move toward him and hug him close.

  It’s funny how this wasn’t even something I had consciously considered or even thought about, but as soon as he gives me his approval, I’m relieved. I feel like I can breathe for the first time ever. I feel a weight lift off of my shoulders, and even though I’m still not perfectly clear on why that is, I love how it makes me feel.

  “Don’t end what you have with Skylar because of your mother. End it for yourself and only yourself. You got it?” he says, and I nod still holding him tightly. I wipe away my tears with his t-shirt.

  “It’s already over,” I tell him, looking up into his eyes with a sadness I can no longer contain. “Skylar and I aren’t meant to be.”

  He frowns. “I’m sorry to hear that. You’ll find the one, sweetie,” he says, kissing the top of my head.

  I move away from his embrace and nod slightly. “Maybe it’s Evan.”

  “Maybe it is.”

  “But you don’t think so?”

  “I just think you need to come to terms with who you are first, Bree. I heard what you said to your mom last night. I know that you were testing her reaction, and I know that she failed that test. I’m sorry that happened. I just wanted to make sure you know that I will love you no matter what. And as much as you might think otherwise, so will your mother. But Bree, until you know who you really are, you won’t know who it is you’re meant to be with, so you have to take the time to find out. Ok?”

  I nod. I know he’s right, but finally putting it out there in a place where I have to really hear it, hurts. I have a decision to make now. I have soul searching to do.

  I need to figure out if my father’s right. Am I attracted to Evan for the simple reason that I feel like I should be? Or is it something more than that? And if so, the question still remains, why can’t I stop thinking about Skylar?

  Skylar

  I awake to the sound of Parker’s cell phone ringing on the bedside table next to my head. The room is still dark because the curtains have been drawn shut, but I can see daylight peeking around the edges, telling me that it’s morning.

  Parker leans over me and reaches for his phone. “Yeah,” He mumbles quietly into the mouthpiece, his chest pressing into mine.

  The person on the other end of the line is a man and he sounds irritated, but I can’t make anything else out beyond that.

  “I swear I didn’t know anything about that,” Parker says, sitting up and quickly moving away from me. He sits on the edge of the bed, shaking his head, a sheet wrapped around his midsection. “No sir… I’ll find out what’s going on…Yes sir, that’s right. Ok…I know, I’ll take care of it… No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll be there in less than an hour.”

  He ends the call and angrily tosses the phone onto the bed. I look at him questioningly but I don’t pry, and he doesn’t volunteer any information either. He’s really angry, though, and I can’t help but wonder what it is that the man on the other end told him.

  “I have to go,” he says reluctantly. Prominent worry lines crease his forehead. He shakes his head in frustration as he gets up to leave the room.

  “Right now?” I ask uneasily. I don’t like how upset he is.

  He doesn’t answer me right away, disappearing down the hall for a few minutes. When he returns, he’s fully dressed and much calmer than he had been when he stormed out of the room before. “Yeah, right now,” he says, forcing a smile and taking a seat on the bed next to me. “I’m sorry.”

  He leans in and kisses me softly on t
he forehead and I smile, allowing myself to feel calm once again. He wraps his arms around me, seeming to sense my uneasiness. I can tell that he’s trying everything in his power to sooth it.

  “Where are you going?” I ask.

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  A pained expression clouds his loving facial features, making me sorely aware of the fact that even though he wants to share his life with me, he never truly will be able to.

  I close my eyes and exhale. “For how long?”

  “Hopefully just the day. I should be back by tonight,” he whispers, taking my hand in his. “Ok?”

  I nod. “Will you come over to my place when you get back? To sleep? I like having you next to me.”

  “I’ll be there,” he assures me, kissing me softly on the lips. I can’t get enough of those kisses, and I want nothing more than to beg him to stay with me the whole day and not go off to do whatever dangerous thing he needs to do today. Just before he pulls away he licks my top lip and I smile.

  Then I see it.

  The smile instantly fades from my face.

  A handgun is tucked into the waist of his jeans and the sight of it momentarily brings me back to that night on the beach; the loud gunshot, the ringing in my ears, the blood pooling into the sand around me, Parker’s face covered in a spray of red…

  I shudder.

  “Can you ever leave them?” I ask with a quiver in my voice. I run my finger over the butt of the gun.

  The sparkle disappears from his eyes, and they glaze over. He frowns, gently pushing my hand away from the gun. “You know that I can’t,” he replies quietly. I knew the answer even before I asked; I’m not sure why I even bothered asking.

  “I’ll drive you to school,” he says, attempting to change the subject.

  “I don’t think I’m going today.”

  “Ok,” he says letting the word linger slightly. “You can stay here as long as you want. But I really have to go now.”

  I nod. “I’ll miss you.”

  “I’ll miss you too, but I’ll see you tonight.” He kisses me again, this time on the forehead.

  Once I hear the sliding door close behind him, I walk to the door and watch him through the window, disappear beyond his father’s house to where his car is parked out front. My heart sinks the minute I hear him pull away. He’s gone.

  I’m filled with an immediate sense of foreboding. He’s gone and he might not come back.

  This is today’s reality.

  And tomorrow’s.

  And the day after that.

  And the week after that.

  He’ll never be safe. We will never be safe. This knowledge terrifies me. I can’t breathe. I want to cut this realization away. I need to cut it away!

  I start toward the bathroom, focusing only on my tightening chest and my heavy breathing. But as soon as I walk in, and notice that it’s still a total mess from last night’s sexually charged bath, the tightness in my chest fades and my mind fills with memories of last night’s encounter instead.

  Our first time, perfect in every way.

  I smile.

  The tray of strawberries are scattered all around the room, and the unopened bottle of wine lies on its side in a far off corner. Both crystal glasses, which had been knocked off the edge of the tub, are now shattered to pieces onto the floor. The water in the tub has yet to be drained, and there are puddles all around me.

  I sit on the edge of the Jacuzzi and tentatively reach down to the broken glass on the floor. I take a large shard into my hand and grip it firmly between my thumb and index finger. I want to cut but I hesitate, and that hesitation makes me stop completely.

  Parker wouldn’t want to come home and see new cuts all over myself. It would hurt him to know that I cut myself over insecurities about his life, a life he has no control over. He’s a prisoner with these people all because of me and I need to remember that.

  I hastily toss the shard of glass in the trash can next to the sink and begin to clean up the mess in the bathroom. I don’t stop thinking about cutting, but I don’t actually cut either, and I think that’s a pretty big deal.

  Later that afternoon, once I finish cleaning Parker’s entire bathroom, followed by a very relaxing soak in his Jacuzzi, I decide to take a walk downtown to clear my mind. So much has happened in just two short days and it’s a lot for any mind to process. Everything I thought about my life is different now, and that’s ok, it’s just going to require some time to sink in.

  I wander the streets of Downtown Markson Grove, gazing into shop windows. Every so often I check my phone to see if Parker sent me a text. I’m worried about him, but I don’t want to send him a text while he might be in the middle of something dangerous so I’m just waiting for him to write me first. So far, he’s offered me nothing.

  “Skylar Hale,” I hear a male voice I don’t recognize say from behind me. I spin around.

  “Tris Gallagher.” I return, unimpressed. I don’t know him well enough to be completely rude, but I know of him well enough to not want to be friendly about this greeting.

  “Looking fine as usual,” he says with a flirtatious grin.

  I roll my eyes and continue on my way down the street as though he hadn’t said anything to me in the first place. “Goodbye, Tris,” I say dismissively.

  “Wait, Skylar,” he pleads, following after me. He places his hand on my shoulder, forcing me to turn around. “That was inappropriate of me. I’m sorry.”

  His voice sounds sincere, and his face appears sincere, but yet I still can’t be sure to trust him. I look deep into his emerald green eyes and see a flinch of something for a moment; a vulnerability maybe? I can’t be sure.

  I sigh. “What do you want, Tris?”

  He shrugs. “I saw you walking and I thought maybe we could hang or something. If you have nothing better to do. I mean, you’re my best friend’s girl now, right?”

  I’m Parker’s girl, I like the way that sounds.

  I’m unable to hide my smile. “Did he tell you I’m his girl?” I ask, allowing my defensiveness to dissipate at least by half.

  He laughs and nods with what appears to be an exaggerated exuberance, but, again, I can’t be sure. He’s extremely difficult to read. “Yeah. He’s pretty crazy about you,” he says.

  I don’t know if his pleasantness is real or some sort of tactic. I’m not usually one to trust guys I don’t know, especially ones with Tris’ reputation for being an asshole, but then again Parker doesn’t exactly carry a shining reputation either, and I fell in love with him. For all I know, Tris could be just as misunderstood as Parker.

  “I suppose we could hang out for a bit while I’m waiting for Parker to get back from something he needed to do today with work.”

  Tris’ eyes narrow and he stares at me intensely. “Did he tell you what it was?”

  “No. We never talk about that part of his life.” I’m unsure about his intense reaction, but I suspect that he has an idea of what Parker’s business was about today, and doesn’t want me to know the details.

  “Has he mentioned me?” he asks.

  “Well, yeah. You’re his best friend. I know all about you,” I say with a laugh and his anxious demeanor becomes even greater. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want Tris to think that Parker tells me everything about him including details about their misfitting days with Adrienne. He might not want me to know about that even though, most of the Misfit community seems to know all about it at this point. “You know what I mean. You’re mentioned a lot. You seem to be his only friend,” I decide to add for damage control.

  After a moment he laughs and I let out a discreet sigh of relief.

  “Nah, I’m not his only friend,” he tells me with a half grin. “He has Ellie too.”

  Ellie? Who the fuck is Ellie?

  A stab of jealousy hits me in the gut and I have to force myself not to let it show on my face. “Yeah, of course, Ellie too,” I say with a bitter taste in my mouth.
/>   “You hungry? I was on my way to The Loft for some food, I wouldn’t mind some company.”

  I think over his invitation for a moment. I can’t be sure, but I feel like he’s up to something. Everything in my mind is telling me to politely decline and walk away, and yet, I’m intrigued by the things he might know about Parker that Parker’s been reluctant to share with me. Like who exactly Ellie is? And how well does Parker know her?

  My mind tries to place that name, but it can’t. He’s never once mentioned an Ellie. She must be a friend he’s made this year sometime. Could she be the girl he almost had sex with?

  I need to know more.

  “Sure,” I agree with a plastered on smile. “I’m starved.”

  Evan

  “Are you working tonight?” Bree asks me at the end of our school day.

  I slam my locker shut. “I was, but it got canceled,” I reply, showing her the text on my phone from our boss.

  She smiles. “Great! I’m off too, do you want to do something?”

  “Sure,” I say, “but don’t you have to go right home from school? I mean, your mom was pretty pissed last night, I figured you’d be grounded.”

  “Nah,” She replies, brushing off the whole incident with a wave of her hand. I don’t know how she can stay so calm about all of this.

  “Your mom hates me.”

  “My dad doesn’t.”

  “Speaking of your dad, he knows about Skylar, doesn’t he?” I ask uneasily. Judging by what was said this morning, I’d say I don’t even need to ask, but Bree won’t talk about it otherwise, and I hate not knowing where her head is when it comes to Skylar.

  She nods. “Apparently he’s always known. But don’t worry about it Evan, I’m with you now.”

  I wish I could believe that.

 

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