When I park, he gets out and stands near the hood, waiting for me to join him. It’s almost near closing time. The salesman makes short time giving me a new smartphone and signing me onto Julian’s plan.
“What about Layla Jacobi?” the clerk asks.
Julian scratches his jaw, eyes tight. “Get rid of her.”
“You sure?”
Pausing, he finally says, “I’m sure.”
“You’re the holder of the account. What you say goes. We’re replacing Layla with Kaelyn.” He types something into the computer and then looks up at me. “Done. You are now the proud owner of a device that will blow your mind and take your soul.”
I smile uncomfortably. “Should I cheer?”
“A cheer would be nice.”
I give him one. Mr. Ean laughs, grabbing my cellphone. “Let’s get out of here,” he says, opening the door for me.
Once we’re in my car, he starts playing with my phone. “I’m putting my number in here. Under Julian,” he informs me as if it’s imperative I know he’s using his first name. “Now if you ever need me, call me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I resent that.”
“I resent the fact that you spent five hundred dollars on a new phone. It’s going to take me a while to pay you back.”
“Give me a dime and I’ll throw it away.”
I glare at the road. “Are you going to buy Carmen one too?”
He inhales sharply. “No.”
“Just me.”
“Just you.”
“Why?” I demand.
He hands me my phone, setting it on my thigh. “Layla was just as unappreciative as you seem to be. I gave her the world and it wasn’t good enough. I do what I can for you, what you let me do. It isn’t enough. From now on I think it’s best we go back to how it was before. I’m clueless and you’re not. Keep the phone, please. I’ll pay the bill every month. This way I know you’re not completely on your own.”
It’s as if he punched me in my stomach, taking all the air. I stop at a red light and look at him. “Julian, I’m sorry. Thank you for the phone.” But I think he might be over it. Over me. I don’t blame him. “I mean it. Thank you.” I grab his hand off his lap, holding him softly.
He looks down at our fingers before removing his. “Take me to my car.”
“You can’t do that.” I reach for his hand again but he pushes me away. “You can’t show up at my job, or hug me in your classroom, and then tell me to get out of your life.”
“I’m a teacher,” he reminds me bitterly. “I shouldn’t have done any of that.”
I don’t understand where this’s coming from. I feel him slipping away from me. My Carmen comment reminded him of the truth. I silently beat myself up for it. Sometimes I disgust myself with my own stupidity. “Julian,” I start.
“Mr. Ean,” he corrects. “It’s late. Take me to my car.”
I pull away reluctantly, and for the entire length of the ride, he won’t say a word. When we get to Bella’s, I pull to the rear and he starts to get out.
Before he leaves, he looks at me. “I’ll leave the Nessa thing alone from now on. But if you need help I’m here. I’m always here.”
“Julian,” I repeat sadly.
Don’t leave me alone.
He closes his door and walks over to a newer model Volkswagen SUV. He gets in and drives away.
Leaving me the way I found him.
Completely alone.
Chapter Four
The moment he drives away, I get this bad sense I just lost something. Its presence isn’t known, but the absence is still there.
I turn the radio on and drive around Savannah as the radio keeps me company. The night air smells clean and the cool temperature caresses my flushed skin. I leave my window down and let it wash over me, following the trail the moon leaves behind. Country music serenades me. Tonight, I sing along, tired, so tired, but I refuse to go home until I must. Tomorrow’s Friday. All I have to do is survive one more day of school and work. Although I don’t know what I’m looking forward to. I’ll have to hide from Bruce all weekend.
When I can stand it no longer, I park under the moss on the side of Bruce’s house. Outside, the insects sing. I pop my bedroom window open and crawl inside, lugging my stuff in after me. After a few sleepless minutes, I find my new phone, playing with it as the bright screen lights up my darkness. I open my contacts and stare at Julian’s name. Somewhere in the house, Bruce is yelling and I cringe each time I hear Mandy scream.
I open his name and start a conversation.
Me: Are you awake?
A few minutes later I get a reply.
Julian: I am now. It’s 3 in the morning. U should be asleep. Go to bed.
Me: Have you ever been so tired you couldn’t sleep?
Julian: Spring break. College. Freshmen year.
Me: Do I even want to know?
Julian: *winks*
I smile at the screen. And then, because I can’t help myself.
Me: Don’t be mad at me Julian. I say stupid things sometimes. I’m an idiot.
Julian: Mr. Ean
I know he’s still upset when he corrects me.
Julian: Ur not an idiot. Go 2 sleep. Ur going to be so tired tomorrow.
Me: How can I sleep with this shiny new toy?
He takes a few minutes to reply.
Julian: Do you like it?
I sigh in relief.
Me: I do. I truly am thankful. How can I make it up to you?
Julian: GO TO SLEEP that’s how.
Me: Bruce and Mandy are fighting. I can’t sleep.
His reply is swift.
Julian: Are you okay?
Me: Fine.
Me: Are you in bed?
Julian: I usually sleep in a bed.
Me: Smartass
Julian: I’m often referred to as intelligent.
Me: Maybe they’re just being nice.
Suddenly, my phone rings. I fumble with it and slide my thumb across the screen before Bruce and Mandy hear it. “Hello?”
“Go to bed, Kaelyn. I need to sleep.”
“I can’t.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“You’d whisper too if you lived in this house.”
He sighs. “I can barely keep my eyes open.”
I imagine his eyes closing. For some reason, I wish I could see it in person. I picture him lying in a bed, back pressed into the sheets. I can’t for the life of me imagine what he’s wearing. “What are you wearing?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds. “Why?”
I realize immediately what that must sound like to him. A blush creeps over me. “I was curious.”
“What are you wearing?” His voice’s deep and exhausted.
“I think you’ll be disappointed.”
He laughs tiredly. “Tell me.”
“Nothing,” I reply with forced lightness.
“Kaelyn,” he chastises. “What if the monster under your bed decides to take you? You’ll be completely at its mercy. Put some clothes on.”
“Finally someone believes me about the monster under my bed. I thought it was only me.”
“It is only you.”
“I’m wearing my jeans and my shirt. There. You’re disappointed, aren’t you?”
“The only way I’d be disappointed was if I pictured you any other way.”
I frown. “Did you?”
His laugh is quiet, this deep encompassing sound that slowly comforts me. “No.”
“Oh.” I make a face. “Good,” I lie. “Now it’s your turn. What are you wearing?”
“My boxers. Are you disappointed?”
I touch my cheek as the fire eats away at me. “Nope.”
“You would be if you could see them. Layla couldn’t stand them. They’re threadbare and full of holes. I’ve had them since I was sixteen.”
“It sounds like Layla couldn’t stand a lot of things. Do you miss her?”
“Yes,�
�� he admits gruffly. “It’s harder at night. I haven’t slept alone in years.”
“Well, I’ve never slept with anyone, so we’re even right now.”
“You’ve never spooned?”
“No.”
“Spooning’s the best.”
I smile to myself. “Never have.”
“You’re only eighteen. Spooning’s for later.”
“When I’m in love?” I mutter sarcastically. “Like that’s ever going to happen.”
“It’ll happen.” He sounds so sure, so absolutely positive.
I stare at the phone. “But you and Layla just broke up.”
“So?” I hear him smirk once in disbelief, or in sadness. I can’t tell. “What does that have to do with it?”
“Because now you’re not in love anymore. You’re right back to where I am.”
“We’re even,” he agrees.
Minus the fact that you’re six years older than me … “Doesn’t that freak you out?”
“Being single? No. Being wrong again freaks me out more. I thought she was it. I thought Layla was going to me be wife, have my children, kiss my gray hair.” He smirks again. This time I know it’s because he’s sad. “But I was wrong. I think she was cheating on me. That’s why she kept accusing me of doing it. That and she just couldn’t stand me anymore. Which,” he breathes. “Sucks.”
“I can stand you,” I promise, wanting to comfort him. Julian deserves to be comforted. “It isn’t you she couldn’t stand. It was probably herself if she was cheating on you.” I’m reminded of Brady. He cheated on Nessa. And, regrettably, I helped him. Is he going to start treating her the way Layla treated Julian? An overwhelming sense of guilt attacks me, but reminders of Nessa’s abuse eradicates it. I didn’t sleep with Brady to hurt Nessa, I slept with him to have him, and I’m not sure which one’s worse.
“You can stand me?” I can hear something unrecognizable in his voice. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“I can,” I insist, hurt that he doesn’t believe me. Then again, I wasn’t a warm and cozy person. I didn’t know how to be. “Can you stand me?”
“You’re the only person I can stand these days.”
Well … I take the phone away from my ear so he can’t hear me giggle. The sound is so foreign I didn’t even know I could giggle. It comes out of nowhere, an unnecessary reaction when inside it's far warmer a feeling moving through me. When I bring the phone back to my ear, I sigh. “That does very little for your character.”
“I think the better question is whether you can stand yourself. Can you?”
He sounds like he already knows the answer.
“No,” I admit. “I can’t stand myself at all.”
“We’ll need to fix that. Tell me one reason why you can’t.”
“Brady.” His name falls out of my lips like a sin.
“Do you love him?”
I close my eyes. “I don’t know. I want him to want me the way I want him.”
“How do you want him?” His voice sounds cool, calm. When a second ago it was emotional and tired. It’s as if he’s holding himself back.
After the peach grove, I can’t imagine wanting him. The way he used me, used me and knew it, ripped me to shreds. “I want him to see me the way I see him. To be beautiful and wanted. I’ve never been wanted before.” Not by my parents, or any family after that. I’ve been this human being shoved aside for reasons I never understood.
He clears his throat. “I think you want something from him that he isn’t going to give you, Kael. He’s not even what you want. You’re putting your wants onto him because he showed interest once. What if sophomore year didn’t happen? Would you still be interested?”
What if today didn’t happen? That’s a better question. I would still want him if the peaches hadn’t watched him ram into me like I was nothing. Remembering his body on top of me makes me nauseous. I roll over and wish for the first time Julian was here. I want his body wrapped around me, proving I’m not this horribly idiotic tramp. “I’m tired, Julian.”
“So was I when you texted me. Answer the question, Kael.”
Kael. That’s twice. I like it. A nickname other than an insult. “No. I wouldn’t want him if he hadn’t suckered me out of my virginity. I’ve been obsessed with that night since it happened. It was the first time in my life where someone showed any interest. I got addicted to it, wanted it just one more time.” Tears stream down my face. These tears are angry hot truths. I was starting to see things clearly now, and the time spent in a fog was beginning to look like one humongous mistake. “Excuse me for falling for his bullshit.”
“I’m not blaming you. I’m trying to get you to realize what you’re doing to yourself over a guy who doesn’t deserve to even be around you, let alone be in your thoughts. Is he worth it?”
“No.” My tone is miserable. “I miss you,” I whisper longingly before I can stop myself, barely breathing once my longing is out.
He pauses. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
“I don’t want you tomorrow. I want you now.” I curl up into a ball and listen to Mandy scream through the walls.
“Kaelyn.” He sounds like I’m hurting him. “Don’t do that to me.”
“Can we sleep now? I want to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I don’t sound sure.
“Yeah, we can sleep. I just want you to know something before I go. There’s want and there’s need. Right in the middle of that is where you want to be. You don’t want to be on either side of the spectrum, otherwise, you’re giving the other person too much of you. If they’re not in the middle with you, going through the same things with you, then they don’t deserve want or need. You hear me?”
“I hear you. ‘Night, Julian.”
“Goodnight, Kael.”
I fall asleep with his deep voice wrapping around my new nickname.
When I wake up three hours later I feel like I’m underwater. I switch the alarm off quickly and grab my towel. I’m unthinking this morning, simply acting. I get under the hot spray of water. I wash my body, shave, and then stand under the hot spray so long it starts to lull me to sleep. The sound of the door knob turning frightens me awake.
I don’t breathe as Bruce slinks into the bathroom.
“I’m in here,” I inform him shakily. I don’t have to ask to know it’s him. I can feel his evil.
“I know.”
The shower curtain wrenches back and he’s standing there, his beard in his hand. He’s shirtless and his beer belly protrudes out of his stomach like a twin. His jeans are undone. I’m completely naked in front of him. I don’t think. I only react. I grab the bottle of soap from the cubby and throw it at him. I jump out of the shower and shove at him, grabbing for my towel.
He grabs my arm and wrenches me back so hard I fly into the wall. I cry out when the wall smashes against my elbow. He pushes me against the wall. My towel separates his skin from me as he pushes his waist against me, pinning me to the wall with his hips.
“Rent’s due,” he drawls, southern as the mud beneath his tires. He grabs the towel and tries to pull it away, but I hold on for dear life. “Now look, girl. I’ve been putting up with your ass for a long time. It’s time to let me have it. You’re so fine,” he groans, running his hand down my face. “That ass gets me every time.”
I turn my head to the side and whimper. “Let me go. I’ve got money in the bank.”
“I don’t want your money anymore.” He reaches around to grab a handful of my ass, squeezing me painfully hard. “I want this.”
I’m so afraid I can’t think. “Please.”
“Mhm,” he drawls. “Beg me for it.” He leans in to kiss me.
I push his face away as his hands finally free the towel. “Help!” I scream.
His hand flies, slapping me so hard I fall over. Nessa’s hits are nothing like his. In fact, Nessa’s are mundane in comparison to Bruce. My ears ring and the cold hard ground slides beneath my wet skin. I try and blink myself a
wake but Bruce is on me, rolling me over so he can rest between my legs. I kick at him when he reaches for his zipper. I scream and kick, kick and scream, trying desperately to fight him off. My mind is clouded with fear, fear that I won’t be able to stop him.
He grabs one of my ankles and something in me snaps. I kick him so hard in his chest he roars, giving me enough room to scurry back. He grabs for my ankle, but I kick again, getting him in his groin. With a snarl, he pounces on me, fighting my flailing fists.
And then Mandy is pounding on the door.
“You son of a bitch!” she screams. “Let me in!”
“Mandy!” I shriek.
“Let me in, Kaelyn! I’ve got my shotgun, Bruce!” As if to prove it she cocks it.
Bruce stops in the middle of pulling himself out of his pants. He looks at the door and then at me. His eyes are cold and evil. “Today’s your lucky day you fucking whore.” He stands up, his jeans even more undone. “Mandy baby, she wanted it.”
“Open the door.”
“Put the gun away,” he propositions. “Put the gun away and I’ll never hit you again.”
“Open the door or I’ll shoot it open. Kaelyn, get out of the way.”
I scurry to my feet and back away from Bruce.
“On three!” she warns, screaming as she counts. “ONE!”
“Mandy baby,” Bruce pleads. “She’s been begging for it.”
“TWO!”
“I’ll open the door. Just don’t shoot me.” He reaches for the door handle.
When he opens it, Mandy stands there. Her face is covered in bruises and she’s got the shotgun pointed right at the door. When she sees me cowered in the corner, naked, and blood running from the cut on my mouth, I think Mandy might snap.
Under The Peaches (Teaching Love Series Book 1) Page 7