by Mj Fields
I brush my lips across hers again, slower this time, terrified I will fuck this up, knowing I have so much shit to figure out, but I leave them against hers and tell her, “When I saw you at my house, I swore you were sent as a way to show me what I’ll never have because of the shit I’ve done.”
I rub them across her lips, her cheeks, against the soft, tender skin below her ear. “At the fight, I saw you looking at me like you owned me and was pissed at how cruel the Universe was for tempting me with forbidden fruit.” I suck the tiniest part of her earlobe into my mouth then release it. “Had to pull you out of the crowd, save you from busting your ass at school. Thought maybe this was my penance for the shit I’ve done, shit I am still involved in and need to see my way out of, to be who I need to be for me so that, hopefully, I can one day be who I need to be for someone like you.”
She moves her head and gives me questioning eyes but doesn’t move her lips, now on mine, one bit.
“Fuck,” I whisper against them then pull back.
She grips my shirt to stop me then closes her eyes tightly.
“What are you thinking, Truth?”
“That I want you to be all the things you want to be so you never doubt who I already feel in my heart you are. That I want you to kiss me.”
I cup her chin, lean in, and press my lips against hers as I feel hers quiver against mine. I use every ounce of restraint I have to give the only girl who has ever given me words as sweet and true as she just did the respect she deserves.
I press lightly once, twice, three times, and then I force myself to pull back.
Her eyes flutter open like the wings of the butterflies she said she wanted me to give her back, and I vow to myself to do whatever I can to make that happen.
Chapter Twenty Six
Tobias
Her parents came in last night, and neither of us heard them. We had crashed from the stress of the emotional rollercoaster that we had been on for a month. Her legs bridged over my lap, head on my chest, my arm around her, apparently, we were out.
When I hear my microwave beep, I open one eye and see Cyrus standing in my kitchen, pulling food out of the microwave. And when he starts opening and closing drawers, I hear Truth whisper, “Uh-oh.” I look down at her and blow out a breath.
When I look back at Cyrus, he holds up the bowl of pasta that he had left on my doorstep. “You on a no carb thing or what?”
The bathroom door opens, and Tara comes out. She smiles at me and says, “Sorry, I had to use the—”
“It’s fine,” I say as I lift Truth’s legs up and slide out from under her. “No big deal.”
“Very clean.” She smiles.
She looks just like Truth. Well, Truth looks just like her, but curvier.
“So?” Cyrus holds the fork up.
“I eat pretty clean, just wasn’t hungry. But thank you for the food.”
Tara walks past me and pats me on the back as she says, “Food in the Steel family is like a peace offering.”
“Saw the barbecue in the trash.” He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Vegetarian?”
“Dad,” Truth whispers as she stands up and stretches.
“Little bird, what the fuck do you have on?”
“PJs.”
He nods. “Makes perfect fucking sense.” He rolls his eyes and looks back at me. “So, vegetarian?”
“Does he look like a vegetarian?”
“Actually, I—”
“What?” they all say at once.
I feel anxiety rise inside of me like it hasn’t before. These people are supposed to hate me.
“I’m not. Just eat meat before—” I snap my mouth shut.
“Fights?”
“Cyrus,” Tara scolds.
“Birdie, you think I’m gonna change who I am or start pussy-footing now? Too old for that shit.”
“Or just too stubborn,” Truth says, peeking up at him through her thick as hell, jet-black lashes.
“You wanna talk about stubborn? Miss I’m-Not-Gonna-Talk-To-Him-Until-He-Says-He’s-Sorry-Because-I’ve-Been-Fucking-Up-And-Not-Asking-For-Help? Hiding shit because you think we haven’t been through shit before? Newsflash: we have, and we’d like to spare you all”—he looks at me—“the unnecessary pain. And Miss I’m-Not-Going-To-School-Until—”
“Cyrus,” Tara hushes him again.
He waves the fork around. “We get through all this shit being real, or we fall. None of us need skinned knees.” Stabbing the pasta, he pulls it up. “So, you’re a vegetarian?”
I rub my hand up and down my face and shake my head. “I eat meat two days before fights, always lean, and on Sundays.”
“Could have put it in the fridge.”
“You want real and honest? I wasn’t sure you didn’t try to poison it.”
Awkward silence.
I smile, and then they all start laughing like it’s a joke. It wasn’t. But whatever.
Awkward like now, as I walk into school, early for once, taking my time getting to where I need to go, which isn’t my norm, either. But I want to see her, to just look at her. Thinking maybe she decided she wasn’t in it for the slow burn that I am going to need. Knowing if I push past the anxiety that brought on that worry, I’d see the truth.
When I see her walk in, head high, smiling at Justice while she walks down the hall, I step back so I can just watch her. When she looks up, she narrows her eyes slightly as she looks around, past everyone else until she sees me. Then she just stands there, looking like she doesn’t know what to do, and fuck if I do either, so I just wink at her then head to my locker.
All day, we pass each other in the hallway, exchanging glances but never talking. Even at lunch in the gym, she and I don’t say shit, but neither of us are on edge like we have been for a month.
At the end of the day, we end up walking out at the exact same time, and I step a little closer to her the farther we get away from the school. Eventually, we’re walking side by side, not saying a word. When my hand brushes hers, I hook my pinky around hers and glance out of the corner of my eye to see her smile.
“This okay?” I ask.
“Is it okay with you?” she asks back.
“Yeah.”
“Third grade just got so much better,” she says as we get to her vehicle.
I drop her pinky, shove my hands into my jeans pockets, and watch her dig for her keys. She unlocks the door, and I open it for her. She smirks as she slides into her Rover.
I lean in and ask, “See you tomorrow?”
She nods, and then her eyes widen as I lean in closer. She closes her eyes, and I rub my lips over hers, back and forth four times, before pressing a soft kiss to her even silky lips then step back.
“Oh my God, it’s about fucking time,” comes from behind me.
I don’t have to look to see who it is. Gabrielle.
“Shut it down,” I say as I shut Truth’s door, giving her a slight wave as I walk away.
When I get closer to my truck, I see Harrison, Miles, and Kai standing next to it.
“What’s up?” I ask as I pull my keys out and unlock my door.
Harrison slowly claps his hands. “So, you think you’ve won again, do you?”
I open my door, slide in, and then turn to him. “Thing you don’t seem to get is it was never a competition.”
“Up until a few weeks ago, you were all about the competitions. You built this all, reaped the benefits, and now you think you can just bow out?”
“High school is almost over. I’m out. Been trying to be out for a few months now.”
“Since the Steel crew came in,” Miles sneers.
“You’re in the same fucking boat, Jameson. You’re a senior here, heading to fucking Brown; what do you care?”
“He’s got something you never had toward us—loyalty,” Kai replies.
“I got jumped the first day I walked into this place because I didn’t have the right shoes. I defended myself.” I point at Harrison. “You tried your h
and at me, wanting something I never asked for. I shut you down, too. You guys think I didn’t know the game you were playing when you all decided to crawl up my ass? Wrong. That game is older than the money you fucks wipe your ass with. Loyal? Fuck you.”
“How about all the people who depend on those fights and the card games to make bank?”
“The playing field is wide open. Start a new game. I won’t fight you for it. I never wanted it to begin with.” I laugh.
“What about the kids in the same boat as you were? You don’t give a fuck about them?”
“Learned a long time ago, if you’re on the take and get used to it, and don’t try to better your situation, you’ll always be on the take. Let’s hope some of them learned from the example I set by busting my ass to get where I’m going, and I’m not looking back. And heads up, you’re all on the take too, and will be the rest of your lives with your attitudes. Same shoes, just a different designer.”
“You doing with Truth Steel now?” Kai huffs.
“That’s none of your fucking business.”
“The minute you leave town, she’ll forget all about you,” Miles taunts.
“If that’s true, then it wasn’t meant to be. But heads-up, none of us are good enough for her.” I turn and start my truck.
“How did it feel to watch me stick my tongue down her throat at the fight? To see her pushing my hand up her fucking shirt at the lake?”
Fucker is trying to antagonize me. And had he pulled that shit a day or two ago, it would have worked.
“Felt like shit knowing she was letting you touch her, wishing you were me. Won’t happen again.”
“Enjoy the rest of your senior year, Easton.” Harrison smirks. “Just remember when the pussy’s away, the mice will play.”
“Not all too worried about the three of you when there are seven of them, and one of them hits harder than you ever did.”
I pull out and head home, planning to shoot Truth a text and sleep for about twelve hours.
Rolling up in front of my place, I see a new Rover parked out front. Instead of parking in the garage, I pull up and park behind it.
When I get out, the driver’s side door opens, and I see Tara Steel step out. I immediately worry something happened to Truth in the last twenty minutes.
“Truth okay?”
She smiles and nods as she pushes her sunglasses on top of her head. “She’s heading to the doctor with her dad to see how she’s healing and hoping to get rid of the boot.”
I nod. “I bet she’ll be happy to lose that.”
She looks down and mumbles something to herself.
“Did you need something, Mrs. Steel?”
She nods and looks up. “I wanted to ask a favor of you, actually.”
“I’ll do my best to help you out.”
“Well, you see, I have some issues.” She shakes her head. “I see a therapist once a week.”
“Because of Tony?”
She shakes her head. “Not really. It was never something that I worried about. Not since Cyrus. But now—”
My chest burns. “Now that I’m—”
“No, not really.” She blows a breath and looks at me. “Do you think maybe you could attend a session with me?”
Never went to a fucking shrink, unless you count a court-appointed anger management class. But being asked to go to one with a woman who has some issues no doubt brought on by your own father, regardless that you didn’t know him until recently … If you’re falling for her daughter, the right thing would be to go, but I don’t fucking want to.
“Just an hour,” she says as if she heard my thoughts.
“Yeah, sure. I guess I could do that.”
Walking out of the therapist’s office an hour and a half, not an hour, later, I do so with appreciation that I didn’t have ten minutes into the “session.”
“Are you upset with me?” she asks as she pulls her keys out with a swiftness her daughter does not share. In Truth’s defense, she lugs around a bag, while Tara has a tiny purse with several compartments, and each seems to have a specific use.
“No, I’m not.”
“I just didn’t know how to explain it. I didn’t want you to think that I felt like I was blameless and maybe harbored resentment toward you, and it ruin something that could be beautiful for you and my daughter.” She looks up at me. “Your friend, Gabrielle, spoke kindly of you, and Truth was both blessed and cursed by her name. I’ve never seen her this way.”
She hands me her keys. “Do you mind driving?”
“Sure.” I take the keys to a vehicle worth more than I’ll make first year out of college and shake my head as I step toward the vehicle.
She clears her throat, and I look at her. “Mind getting my door?”
Jesus Christ, I scold myself.
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
Driving down the road, my palms are sweating, and I feel exactly like I did when I went to court the four times I have in my life.
When the phone rings, I glance over at her and see her smile as the dash lights up with CYRUS.
She answers it.
“How was your appointment?” he asks.
“Good. I’m not too far from home.”
“That’s good. Our little birdie gave the boot a boot, so we’re having a dance party tonight.”
“Oh no, we aren’t.” Truth laughs.
“Bullshit, you got no excuses anymore,” Cyrus snaps at her. “And as much as I like that chick’s dune buggy, I wanna see you kick her ass for the lead in the next show.”
“Maybe I don’t wanna dance anymore.”
“Yeah, right,” he huffs.
“No, maybe I wanna go to college at a real school.”
“Yeah, for what?”
“Not sure yet. I still have time. Haven’t looked into what programs Columbia has to offer,” she says, and I can’t help but smile.
“I’m not paying for you to go study boys, Truth.”
“Don’t plan on studying boys. I plan on studying a man.”
I can’t help but smile bigger now.
“You think so?” he huffs. “You think I’m paying sixty Gs a year for you to chase ass, you got another thing coming.”
“Um, Cyrus …” Tara tries to interrupt.
“You like him”—Truth giggles—“and it pisses you off.”
“You sure you want a boy who pisses his pants?”
“He doesn’t piss his pants.” She laughs like she’s got a secret, and I hope to fuck her dad doesn’t call her on it.
“Guys …” Tara again tries to interrupt.
“Look, I’ll make you a deal. You start dancing again, and if you hate it, we’ll discuss Columbia.”
“I’m not dancing right now, and we’re discussing it, so—”
“Not anymore.” Cyrus laughs. “Tara, dance party tonight.”
“No freaking way,” Truth groans.
“Dance party, and I might shave some time off you being grounded till you’re thirty.”
She doesn’t say a thing.
“See you at home, Birdie”—he chuckles—“for a dance party, right, Truth?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she concedes.
“See you at home.” Tara laughs and ends the call as I roll to a stop light.
She giggles nervously as she looks at me and says, “Myself, Kiki’s mom, Carly, and Brisa’s mom, Bekah, all came from small families, so it was a lot to get used to.”
“I can see that.”
“And for me, after living in home after home since I was five, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to it.”
During her session, I found out her parents had passed away in a car accident where she was the only survivor, causing her to have some issues that she still struggles with to this day. OCD, anxiety, fear of loss, all were brought up in her session. All led to her clinging to someone who had his own set of issues—mainly drugs—and accepting his abuse because she thought it was better than being alone, until sh
e met Cyrus, who was controlling, as well, but in a very different way, a way that was freeing and made her feel safe.
I knew why she wanted me there, and it wasn’t just because she wanted me to be open to the idea of counseling so that I could lead a full life and someday be the man that Truth deserves. I’m sure she and her mother discussed my reservations and, although somewhat embarrassing, I was glad Truth had someone to talk to about it if she didn’t think she could talk to me. Honestly, I’ve given her every reason to believe that, because I’m just not there yet. But that hour and a half was her way of showing me a direction, and I appreciate it. I also appreciate that Tara truly wants me to accept the fact that she doesn’t hold any resentment toward me, which I know will take some time to accept.
“It’s sometimes intimidating, because they seem to have it all together, but they’re not without struggles. They just have such a strong belief that they can get through anything, and they’ve actually done so.”
She smiles. “Truth sees that good and the strength in you. She’s so taken with you, and I just don’t want you to spend any more time convincing yourself you’re not all those things. Cyrus did that to me. He pushed me away, and it hurt us both for a long time.
“Maybe someday you’ll show me pictures of your mom, and maybe it’ll spark a memory, but right now, I bet she is so proud to see you continuing to do what she did—break a cycle. And even though Truth is one-third of my heart, I want you to know that I see you through my own eyes clearly, Tobias, and I’m proud of you. I am so extremely proud of you for everything you’ve done to survive, everything I’ve learned you have accomplished based on pure determination and the way that you have tried to protect my daughter.”
It’s been years since anyone told me that they were proud of me, and here sits a woman who I’ve known for only a few days, someone who could have easily put me in a box because of my DNA, and I wouldn’t have blamed her. She could have shunned me because of my circumstance, but she fucking didn’t.
My chest and eyes immediately heat; my throat burns and tightens at her words.