by Ashley Hall
Chapter Twenty-Three
The evening was finally over, and I couldn’t have been happier. I just wanted to go to bed. In the morning, we’d go back home. I couldn’t wait. I had to get away from all of this—all of the reminders of my dad and how strict he was, how controlling he was, how terrible it was that so many others thought and acted like he did. I just needed to get away from all of this. College. That would be when I could discover who exactly I was and who I wanted to become. While at the house, I’d been too confined and trapped to learn about myself. I’d never be able to expand my horizons or explore.
And that was something I wanted. Desperately. Even more than I wanted Wes.
We went up to our hotel room, but before I could get changed and brush my teeth, Dad cleared his throat. “We need to talk, April.”
I nodded, even though I knew it wasn’t really going to be a talk. A talk meant back and forth. A discussion. No. This was going to be a speech. There wasn’t a point in my even trying to voice an opinion. Dad wouldn’t listen. Now that I thought about it, I kinda always knew he was this way, but it didn’t bother me. I just blindly accepted it. What had changed? It wasn’t really that Wes had. It was more my watching Dad interact with Wes that opened my eyes. Dad talked about God and religion, but he didn’t practice what he preached, not if he couldn’t really accept a step-son into his life.
“It’s important for you to know and accept God’s will.” Dad motioned for me to sit on my bed.
I shook my head and remained standing near the bathroom door. I didn’t want to get comfortable. I didn’t want him to think I was willing to listen for him drone on for hours.
“It’s not always easy to know what God’s will is, but He sends us signs that are easy enough to read. Do you think it’s a coincidence that I have friends involved in a college near our home? No. And it’s a good college at that. You don’t need to go to a fancy school. You don’t need to leave the state to get a quality education.”
As he continued on, I fought the urge to yawn. Was he talking about God’s will? Nope, not at all. He was talking about his will.
“Order is just as important,” he added. “In fact, there’s not much more out there that is more important than order. Without order, everything descends into chaos.”
Whoever said chaos was such a bad thing? Spontaneity wasn’t evil either. Letting go, having fun…you didn’t have to be a stick in the mud. You could live a little.
I almost snorted at the idea of Dad letting down his hair and going wild. He’d been a teenager once. Had he always followed the rules then? I doubted it. Maybe he had been a real hellion himself, and now he was overcompensating with his children to try to keep them from making the same mistakes he’d made.
But mistakes were a part of life. Maybe sleeping with Wes had been one. Maybe it hadn’t been a mistake. Even if it had been, I still didn’t regret it.
“You see, April, the way things should be is going to be how things actually are. You will understand in time what is demanded of you, and you will grow to not only accept it, but to respect it, to want it. Life isn’t about making choices. It’s about accepting your role in life. Ah, yes. The importance of roles. You’re my daughter. As my daughter, I have a duty to you…”
A duty to not be a controlling asshole? I shouldn’t think this about him, but I did. Whenever I thought about the Hell he was putting my mom through, by taking away her baby girl and giving that baby to another of his wives, to have that wife flaunt the child back in Mom’s face every chance she got…I grew so angry I just wanted to lash out.
Or to run away. Maybe that was what I should do. After high school. I could run away to college, spread my wings, live my life, and do whatever I wanted.
But that would mean I’d be cut off. I’d have no money for food, no place to go home to during breaks. And where would I live during the summers? It was a scary thought. Thrilling but terrifying too.
“As your father…”
He was still talking? I forced myself not to glance at the clock. I shifted to the side. My feet were getting sore, so I kicked off my heels.
“I’m older and more experienced than you are. I’m the one who is most equipped to help you see yourself for who you really are and to help you realize your path.”
He knew me better than I knew myself? Doubtful. If he knew what I had done to Wes, that I wasn’t a virgin, that I thought so little of him and his opinion because of how he treated people—especially Wes and my mom—then he would know that I didn’t give a crap what he wanted for me. I knew what was best for me, more than he did.
“The gentlemen we met earlier,” he continued, and I couldn’t help wondering if he would ever stop talking, “they are of a similar mind to me. I believe they’re going to help restore order in our home. Don’t you think that’s necessary? It is,” he answered for me.
I didn’t nod or blink or react. What could I say or do? Nothing. I knew what he was implying, what he was really trying to do. Outwardly, I was calm, but inside, I was fuming. This was his gambit at gaining control over me again. He was punishing me for testing him in the first place. Right then and there, I made a vow to myself to do whatever I had to in order to ensure he couldn’t or wouldn’t marry me off to one of those pigs.
Dad opened his mouth to talk more, but his phone rang, and I took a deep breath and darted into the bathroom. I was about to brush my teeth when I heard his tone go sharp. Something was wrong, but he was talking too quickly and quietly for me to make out what was going on. My stomach twisted into knots. Had something happened to Penelope? Or Wes? P and P? My mom?
Not bothering to brush my teeth after all, I left the bathroom. “What’s going on?”
Dad ended the call. “Pack up your things.”
“Dad, what’s going on?” I repeated. I couldn’t help feeling nervous and scared. My stomach—filled with too much food—churned enough that I thought I might have to rush back into the bathroom.
“I said to pack your things.” He already has his suitcase opened and was packing himself.
Although I wanted to bug him until he started talking, I didn’t. I raced around the room, grabbing my things, my anxiety building with every passing second. I almost forgot to grab my toiletries from the bathroom, but I got them too.
“Hurry up,” he grumbled. “I won’t talk to you until we’re back in the car.”
The way he said that, his tone of voice…I was even more worried now. He left to take out his luggage, and I kept on packing. Had to check beneath the beds and every drawer. Dad was notorious for leaving things behind.
The entire time, I was panicking. What if it had nothing to do with someone getting sick or an accident? What if it was something worse? The worst it could be—had someone found out about Wes and me? Dad wouldn’t take me to be married off right now, would he?
Dad came back into the room as I was zipping up my suitcase. “Please, just tell me,” I begged. “I have to know.”
He grabbed the handle.
“Dad. Please,” I pleaded, grabbing onto his arm.
He looked down at me. “All right,” he relented begrudgingly.
I held my breath.
“Roslyn…your mother. She is in the emergency room. She fell down the full flight of stairs.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The ride home took forever. I couldn’t stop praying and worrying. My chest hurt. My stomach ached. My palms were sweaty. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. Even praying didn’t make me feel better, even though I tried hard.
When we finally arrived home, I balked. “The hospital…”
“Get out. I’m going by myself.”
What? He couldn’t be serious!
“Please, Dad. I really want—”
“Get out of the car, April.”
“But—”
“Are you that selfish?” he exploded. “You’re keeping me here when I could already be on my way to her.”
Meekly, I climbed out of th
e car. Dad didn’t even give me the chance to get the luggage out of the car. He just took off.
Dazed, I watched his car until it disappeared from sight. My mind was whirling, and I had to force myself to walk to enter the house. It was oddly quiet and felt empty.
Jacqueline closed the door for me. “April, how are you?”
“Fine, I guess,” I muttered. “Where is everyone?”
“Wes is at work, and the boys are at youth group.”
“Oh. Right.” Great. So it was just Jacqueline, Yvonne, Penelope, and me.
Feeling like I was in a fog, at a loss, I wandered through the house, more than a little distraught. I needed a distraction, but I wasn’t in the cleaning mood. Penelope. The baby. Maybe holding her would help.
It took me a little bit to find Yvonne and Penelope. They were in the parlor. They seemed happy enough, and I hesitated in the doorway. I wanted to hold Penelope, at least I thought I did, but Yvonne’s expression on her face, it was a little strange. It was like she was in her own little world. And like she was almost pleased.
Just then, Yvonne glanced up. “April. How was the ball?”
“Fine.” I stayed in the doorway. Yvonne and I had never interacted too much before. She was normally chasing after the boys, trying to get them to behave. Now she was all about Penelope. Granted, the boys were older now, and they knew how to behave, but seeing her with Penelope angered me. And right now, I would rather be angry with her than worried sick over my mom.
Although that wasn’t quite happening.
“Your father is worried about you. Thinks you need to learn your place.”
I needed to learn my place? No, that was Yvonne. She couldn’t accept what had happened. She had been the one to lose a child. Yes, that was terrible and tragic, but to take Mom’s baby away, to raise her as her own…
“I can help you with that,” Yvonne continued.
“Help with what?”
“Teaching you your place.”
Why? Because you think my mom isn’t a good enough parent to teach me lessons by herself?
Best to ignore her. “Can I hold Penelope?” Holding out my hands, I approached them.
Yvonne held the baby tighter. “She’s so comfortable right now.”
Seriously? She was refusing to let me touch Penelope?
I jerked around and left the room, so angry I wanted to hit something. Beneath the anger, worry and fear welled up. With each step I climbed, I imagined Mom falling down them, slamming her back, hitting her head, over and over again. The stairs were high and narrow. How badly hurt was she? It had to have been a serious fall in order to warrant going to the emergency room.
I walked past my room and entered Wes’s instead. I curled up on his bed. It smelled like him, and it made me feel safe. For a moment, my emotions fled, and I felt better.
But then my phone rang, piercing the silence, and everything came rushing back. I fumbled to grab my phone and frowned at the unfamiliar number on the caller ID.
“Hello?”
“April? How are you?”
“Mom? Are you all right?”
“How are you?” Mom repeated. She sounded frantic.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Are you—”
“You’re okay?”
“Yes.”
“Are you home?”
“Yes. Mom, stop. You’re scaring me. What about you?”
“Are you sure you’re all right?” My mom sounded so beside herself that I wanted to cry.
“Yes, Mom. I swear I’m all right.” I could barely get a word in with all of her questions. “I’m home. I’m fine.”
“Good. That’s good.” Mom seemed to melt, not so frantic and worried. Why wasn’t she concerned about herself?
“What happened, Mom? Why were you even upstairs to begin with?”
Mom had a bad knee, and she hardly ever went upstairs. Usually only to talk to me. I thought back to the last time she came upstairs. I thought it was the morning of Wes’s special lunch. She’d reminded me that I needed to go get my paycheck from work. The stairs were too much for her knee, so I almost always went down to see her rather than her trekking all the way up to me.
“April, I love you,” was all she said. “I can’t talk.”
And she hung up.
I stared at my phone. I wasn’t stupid. It was so easy to piece all together. As I figured out what happened, tears dripped from my eyes, and I suddenly understood. My mom must have fallen on purpose because Wes told her I was in trouble.
Overwhelmed by guilt, I collapsed into Wes’s pillows and sobbed as hard as I could.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Wes
Work was going well. I enjoyed it. It gave me a sense of purpose, something my life had lacked for so long. It felt good to work with my hands, and it felt nice to feel smart for once.
“You’ve been working with some kind of crazy vigor,” Mickey commented. “Getting things done twice as fast, taking up even more projects and requests. It’s great. Keep it up. Just don’t burn out, you hear?”
“Don’t worry. I won’t. I can handle it.” I played it off, but, internally, I knew I had to keep going, keep pushing myself. I was saving up as much as I could so I could share with April. I had a feeling she wouldn’t want my money, but she was going to get it anyhow. She needed it more than I did. I was doing this for her. And myself. We both needed to get the hell away from here.
Building her this emergency fund felt like the only productive thing I could do to stop me from throttling Walter in his sleep. After I got off the phone with April, I was so tempted to wrap my hands around his throat. I was that angry. Picking out a college was one thing, but to pick out a husband who would abuse her like Walter had abused her over the years? That was crossing the line. The only thing that saved Walter was that I had been distracted by P and P after I told Roslyn what her ass of a husband had in store for their daughter, and then I had been the one to find Roslyn at the end of the stairs. I had been the one to take charge, to call for an ambulance. Yvonne had been dealing with the baby, I guessed. P and P were getting ready to leave for youth group, and Jacqueline…I wasn’t sure where she was. Useless. She could never be counted on for anything. But as much as I resented her, I hated Yvonne almost as much as I hated Walter. She was a class A bitch, and she almost painted Jacqueline in a good light, which was saying something.
So, here I was, working extra hours just so I wouldn’t have to go the house. I would’ve stayed by Roslyn’s side in the hospital as a proxy for April, but since I wasn’t family, they wouldn’t let me stay, not even after I worked up the nerve to say I was her step-son. They probably thought I was lying. People tended to take one look at me and my ripped and stained clothes and my leather jacket and not believe me. Whatever. I didn’t care what they thought.
I took off for work straight from the hospital. I wasn’t sure when April and Walter would be getting back. Hell, for all I knew she could be returning with a wedding ring on. The thought made me furious. I should’ve paid more attention whenever the whole Virgin Ball or whatever it was called had been brought up, but I just couldn’t deal with it. Not the idea behind it, not that Walter was dragging her to it.
Although it did give me delicious chills that headed straight to my cock every time I thought about what we had done while she wore her dress, that we had slept together, that she wasn’t a virgin or pure for that ball.
But that would be it. A one-time thing. I knew it. I kinda accepted it. I also knew that, realistically, no matter how much I wanted to run away with April, we couldn’t. Not even if she wanted to too. It would ruin her life. She had dreams to fulfill and so much potential. Walter shouldn’t stand in the way of it, but then again, neither should I.
And the difference between us was that I would step aside and let her go, let her grow, let her become the woman she wanted to be. I didn’t want to force her to come along with me. Hell, I didn’t want her to choose me. I was bad news. Yeah, so I
had a job, but it wasn’t enough to be able to support us both long term. She deserved a better guy, a better life.
The thought of her leaving me, though, was killing me.
When I did make it back to the house, I was shocked to find April there. And not only here when she should be at the hospital, but here in my room, on my bed. I closed my bedroom door, shrugged out of my leather jacket, letting it fall to the ground, crossed over to her in three long strides, and pulled her into my arms. I had to smell like grease and sweat and oil, but she didn’t pull away. She clung to me, holding me so tight, and I didn’t want to let her go. I rubbed her back and murmured into her ear. I wasn’t even sure what I was saying. I just was trying to get her to calm down, to stop crying.