I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or say, I just know I am so ashamed of myself that I have to get away from here. From him. So I do what I always do. I run. Pushing past him and his anger, I tear off down the road, ignoring the tears as they burn down my face.
Dirty. I just feel dirty. Used and tossed aside. And here I'd actually convinced myself that he cared about me. That I could learn to care for him. I am such a fool. My stupidity only makes me cry harder.
My sides are killing me, but I don't stop running. I can't. I just can't. If I stopped running then I'd start thinking. Right now I didn't want to think. I just wanted to go home, pop a few of Dad's pills, and forget. Just for a little bit. Just so I can find myself again. I'd be smarter about it this time. I'd only take one of his pills. Two, tops.
Once I finally reach my driveway, I slow my run to a jog until I finally collapse under the maple next to the house. My body hurts so much right now that it's hard to even breathe. Panting, I try to catch my breath and slow my heart rate down.
I stare up at the sun and feel it burn into my retinas. It makes my eyes water even harder than they already are. I let my tears wash away a fraction of the hurt.
I don't know how long I stared at the sun. Could have been hours. All I know is that it's been long enough to still my racing heart and dry the sweat from the nape of my neck. Part of me wonders if I could just stay here all night. I wouldn't be missed.
That's when I hear the screen door slam from behind the tree.
“I know you're out here,” Dad says. “You made a mess in my kitchen. You best get in here and clean it up.” The mess I made. Right. The dishes that got broke when he was kicking me in the ribs. My mess.
I peek around the tree and see he is holding on tight to a new bottle of vodka. A good third is already gone. Here we go again.
Like a robot, I pull my feet up to stand and start walking toward the house.
Tobias
I watch from the woods as Jada pushes past Hawk. He's upset her. Fury builds inside me for whatever he said, but I say hidden. From the safety of the woods, I watch her tear off down the road. My legs try to follow after, but I force them still. Something insides me tells me to watch Hawk.
His shoulders rock with anger or pain. It's hard to tell from here. I've never seen him so conflicted before. Eventually, he ducks into the woods about a mile ahead of where I'm hiding. He'll hunt himself out of whatever funk he's in.
Now that Hawk is gone, I turn my attention back to Jada. Emerging from my hiding spot, I start the long walk towards her house. I don't care if I’m seen anymore. All that matters now is if she's okay.
The dust kicks up as my feet travel down the road at a faster clip than I probably should travel, but my lungs feel fine. Stronger actually, with each step I take closer to her. I can't help but think about what Hawk would have said to her to make her run all the way home. He better not have hurt her.
About five minutes away, I break into a run. Panic has filled my limbs and a desperate urge to get to Jada now consumes me; drags me along. Something bad is about to happen. Pushing harder against the ground I run until I finally reach her driveway.
I slow to a jog when I see her outside. Relief floods over me as I look at her. Her blonde hair is shining in the afternoon sun as she pushes away from the huge maple tree. Panic returns. The way her hand is pressed against the bark, I can tell she's scared. Her long fingers are visibly trembling against the bark.
I slow down to a walk as I travel down her road trying to figure out her expression. It's a mix of fear and acceptance. It's only when I see what she is staring at, that I understand.
There is a man half-standing and half-leaning on her porch. His unshaven face is slack, but fierce as hell. There is no doubt about what she is terrified of: her own father. My stomach lurches.
“Hurry up!” the man yells. He doesn't appear to see me as he does his best to walk down the steps. He's drunk.
My eyes whip over to Jada who starts walking like she's on auto-pilot. Her face is blank of any emotion.
Snapping out of my shock, I run toward her.
“Jada!” I shout.
They both look up at me as I come barreling towards them. The father glares first at his daughter then back at me.
“Tobias?” I hear her whisper, but she stays rooted where she is.
When I get to them, I step in front of Jada and place my body in between her and her father. I bend down a bit to find her eyes.
“Don't go inside with him,” I say. “He's drunk.”
She gives me the saddest smile I've ever seen on a person. “I know. Which is why I need to go inside and you need to go home.” She pats my hand gently. “I'll be fine. Go home. Please. I can handle this.”
She pushes her shoulders back and tries to walk around me, but my hand flies out and tightens around her waist. I am not about to let her go in there with him.
I hear her father slur, “Say goodbye to your friend, Jada.”
My nostrils flare when I feel her stiffen at the sound of his voice.
“Goodbye, Tobias,” she squeaks, trying to pull away again, but I don't let her. Instead, I take a step toward her father keeping my hand firmly around her waist.
“Mr. Williams, I don't believe we've met,” I try. “I'm Tobias Garret. I go to school with your daughter.”
He stumbles down the last step and comes nose to nose with me. The stench rolling off of him is almost unbearable.
“How nice.” He spits at the ground. “School's over now. I need her to get her butt in the house. If that's all right with you?”
“Actually, it's not all right with me,” I say as calmly as I can. “Considering the state you're in.”
Jada's hand balls into the back of my shirt, as though trying to pull me back.
Her dad blinks a few times, then actually smiles at me. “What state is that?”
“Drunk before dusk,” I say my voice hard and flat. “Now, you're new here, so you may not know this, but drinking before sundown is illegal in this town.”
His eyes narrow in such a way that I know damn well he knows the law.
“Is it now?”
“It is,” I say, pushing Jada further behind me. “Now, my suggestion would be that you let Jada come home with me tonight so that I won't have to report to the authorities that I'd left a minor in the care of a drunk.”
His face turns red before he spits again at the ground. “Well, ain't you the gentleman?”
Jada squeezes my hand, hard.
“That I am, sir.” I pull her slowly down her driveway, keeping my eyes on her father. “I'll see that she gets to school in the morning. You have a good evening.”
Her dad's mouth starts to open, but then stops. His eyes burn into his daughter and I hate that. I turn her around and push her forward. I never want her to endure that gaze again.
Jada’s body has gone limp as I shove her forward. It's almost like she doesn't dare leave, which makes me even more determined to get her out of here.
Chapter 17
Jada
As I walk down the road that leads me away from my house, I know my future is hanging in the balance. I hadn't openly defied my father like this in years. I still had the fake tooth to prove it.
I was fifteen. There was a dance at school that I had asked to go to with some friends I'd managed to make. Of course he'd said no, but I'd snuck out and went anyway. He was waiting for me when I had tried to crawl back in through my window. It scared the hell out of me seeing him sitting in the corner of my room, empty bottle at his side.
He raged on and on about what a tramp I'd turned into. How my mother would have been so ashamed of me. I was a disgrace to her memory.
That was the first night he had polished off an entire bottle of vodka in one sitting. It was also the first night he'd ever hit me. He used the bottle first against my rib cage, but when I stood up, he moved up to my face. All I remember is waking up in a pool of blood and missing my bottom ca
nine.
Last year when he 'quit' drinking I thought we'd said goodbye to days like that. Sure, we'd just gone from physical abuse to flat out ignoring me, but at least that didn't leave so many visible marks. Looks like he's starting to make up for lost time.
As Tobias drags me away I can't help but think; if I went home right now I might get myself out of the worst of it, but if I continued on with Tobias, I'd be sealing my fate for sure.
Glancing behind me, my house disappears in the distance. I half expect my dad to come barreling down the road after me, but then that would mean he cared about me on some small level. And – he just doesn’t.
I turn to look up at Tobias. His face is troubled, his lips drawn firmly together. He’s refused to let my hand go since he took hold of it earlier, and I don’t try to take it away. Instead, I just I hold on tight and let him lead me away from reality, if only for tonight.
Several minutes pass in silence before Tobias opens his mouth, but then closes it. I know what he wants to ask about my dad, but I can’t admit the truth, even when he’s seen a glimpse of it. Denial is a powerful thing.
After a few minutes, he tries again. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I tighten my grip on his hand. “Not really.”
He nods. “Okay then.”
As we approach his house, he slows us down to a crawl.
“My mom’s gonna be pissed at me,” he says. “I took off without permission. Again.” He gives me a sheepish smile.
“I should go then,” I say automatically. “I don't want to get you into more trouble...” I stop walking and release his hand. Coldness washes over me. I should have known I couldn't escape my dad.
Tobias grabs my hand back and his warmth returns. My skin prickles. “You're not going back there tonight.” He looks me dead in the eyes. “You got it?”
I nod and allow him to lead me to his porch. As he climbs the steps, he groans. There's a note stuck to the door.
“It's from my mom. She called Ms. Philips. They're out looking for me.”
He digs out his e-portal to send word that he's home. He unlocks the door, pushing against the old wooden door with a large heave. Once inside he asks, “How about you help me make some dinner. That might help get me out of the mound of shit I've dug myself into.”
I laugh in spite of my nerves.
“I'm a horrid cook, but sure.”
He leads me into the kitchen, which is small like mine, but infinitely brighter. Eons more inviting. Like something out of an e-mag. The walls are a pale yellow that burn bright against the afternoon sky. There is delicate daisy tile pattern that runs along the edge of the counter-tops, oozing more cheerfulness.
“We can start with these,” Tobias suggests, pulling out a large sack from under the sink. He plunks the worn canvas bag down with a thud. Opening the sack, he dumps out the contents.
“Are those what I think they are?”
He smiles, but it's an embarrassed smile. “Um, yeah. They're potatoes.”
“Real potatoes?” There hasn't been real potatoes in the states for years now. Not since the potato bugs wiped them out.
“Yeah,” he laughs, grabbing one of the spuds and rolling it across the table to me. I pick up the thing and just look at it. It's got these strange little nubs poking out of it. “Don't worry, we cut those off,” Tobias says, sensing my hesitation.
I flush red. “Sorry, I just never had to peel one, even before the contamination. We've always done boxed. Pretty pathetic, huh?”
Tobias shakes his head and smiles. “No, not really. I wish we did. It would save me a lot of work. Ma and I grow these in the basement, so we never got infected ones. Have for years. Not many people would bother to take the time to do that when boxed is so much cheaper.”
“But I'm sure these taste better,” I say, wagging the potato at him.
“That they do.”
We spend the next few minute cutting off the roots and chopping them into small bits. The quietness that surrounds us as we cut and peal the potatoes is soothing and strangely therapeutic. As they boil, Tobias and I head into the living room. He sits in an old rocker and I perch on the end of the sofa not sure what to say.
“So, you and Hawk had a fight?” Tobias coughs out after a moment.
“What?” I ask.
Tobias frowns at me. “I saw you talking to him today. At school.”
“You were there? I didn't see you.” I don't admit that I had been looking for him.
“After my mom left for work, I snuck out. I needed to get out of the house.” He shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. “When you took off, I assumed you two had a fight. I followed after you to make sure you were okay. I'm glad I did.”
I pull my legs up onto the couch, hugging them. “I don’t want to talk about Hawk.”
Thankfully, Tobias nods. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
The way he’s leaning in the chair, his sexy curls almost reaching his eyes, his soft lips looking deadly kissable — well, I can’t help myself. “I don’t want to talk at all,” I say in a voice huskier than I knew I had.
Without thinking, I'm on my feet. A second later I'm straddling him on the rocker, caging his body beneath mine. His body hardens underneath me, confirming my suspicions on what he thinks of me. Desire floods over me as he lets out a small moan. His hands tentatively encircle my hips before they get bold and pull me closer.
I lick my lips in anticipation as my fingers curl into the back of his hair, holding on tight. His skin is electric against mine.
Our lips inch closer; the heat of his breath makes me dizzy. Our noses brush against each other so tenderly that it makes me ache with need. His fingers dig in harder against my hips pulling me into a deep embrace. Our lips are seconds away from connection. My body aches with anticipation.
“Tobias Daniel Garret!” a voice booms from behind us.
I feel myself whimper as Tobias pushes me off him, cursing under his breath. I do my best to straighten my clothes and push down my hair, but the embarrassment is too thick to cover.
“Mom, you're back,” Tobias says, crossing his legs, not able to stand up quite yet.
“Where the hell have you been?” she asks in a slow and measured voice. “And who is this?” Her arms fold across her chest.
“I went for walk. I was bored. This is Jada. Happy now?”
Her eyes dart back to me. Her mouth opens, as though in shock, then a second later her hands are crossed back over her chest. She looks back at Tobias.
“We need to talk. Now.” She turns around and walks into the kitchen.
“I'll wait outside,” I say, knowing he'll need privacy. No one likes getting yelled at in public. That much I know.
He gives me a sheepish smile and takes my hand. Heat surges into me. “Thanks. I won't be long.” He looks into the kitchen and then back at me. “I hope.” Reluctantly, he lets my hand drop and goes to find his mother.
As soon as he is in the kitchen, I head outside and do what I should have done earlier. I slide down the stairs and head back home. It's time for me to grow up and take my punishment, just like Tobias is doing.
Tobias
Pushing through the kitchen door, I start thinking about what my defense will be.
“Mom, before you start in on me –”
“Are you cooking potatoes?” Ma asks before I can finish my thought.
“Yeah. Jada and I thought we'd make shepherd's pie for dinner.”
She pursed her lips. “She's staying for dinner?”
Clearing my throat, I try to find my courage. “Actually, I've told her she could stay the night.”
“Tobias!” she shouts.
I walk closer to Mom, trying to shush her. The last thing I want is for Jada to overhear us. She already feels guilty for coming and I don't want her to change her mind.
“Her dad was drunk, Ma. And he looks like a mean one. I can't let her stay there tonight.” Or ever again. But I'll start with tonight.
Mom gives a worried look towards the living room, but nods. “All right. She can stay, but she's sleeping on the couch. And you are going back up to your room and plugging yourself back in.”
“I'm fine, Mom,” I say, but she lifts a finger at me.
“She stays only if you take your medicine until dinner time. I'll see that Jada is taken care of. Don't you worry. She and I will get along all right. I'll have her help me finish dinner and then I’ll call you down. Deal?”
“But... ” I try.
She gives me a stern raised eyebrow.
“Fine,” I say, giving in and dragging my feet up the stairs.
As I climb the stairs the days events start to wear on me and I feel the strain it's put on my lungs. I guess a nap wouldn't hurt. Neither would Mom getting to know Jada. Grunting, I force myself into my room, trying to push away the knot that is forming in my stomach.
Jada
I don't remember the walk back to my house. It's like my brain shut off; which is probably for the best.
My only shot at getting out of a beating tonight is if he’s passed out, which isn’t out of the question. It’s that hope that allows me the courage to open my front door.
However, when I walk into the kitchen, he's there. Sitting at the table with his feet up, the bottle of vodka still lodged tight in his hand. His eyes are completely bloodshot and murderous when he sees me.
“Well, well, well. Look who decided to come crawling back,” he taunts, standing up and taking a swig.
“I'm sorry,” I blurt out, doing my best to hide my shaking limbs. He hates to see weakness.
“No. You're not sorry. But you're gonna be.”
As he stumbles over to me, I try to shut down my senses. Try to find a place to escape inside my mind until it's over. The first blow comes before I'm ready. Even though my eyes are closed, I know what I've been hit with. The dull thud of the vodka bottle breaking against the kitchen table is unmistakable. A second later my skin is torn open. The warmth of my own blood trickles down my face as pain sears from the corner of my left eye down to my jaw. I feel my mouth open up to scream. But no sound comes – muted after years of keeping the punishments private.
Pulled Back (Twin Flames Series) Page 12