Flirt: Bad Boy Romance

by Ashley Hall

  “I’m not—”

  “You’re lying to me,” he bellowed.

  I winced. He never talked to me in this way before, and it made me feel like a little girl, terrified and all alone.

  “What else have you been lying about?” my dad yelled. “What sins have you committed since that filth has been brought into this house?”

  I glanced at Jacqueline. She just stood there, listening to her husband blast her son, declaring him evil. Didn’t she care that Wes had left? Did she believe Yvonne? Did she honestly think her son was capable of hurting someone? If that was the case, she really didn’t know Wes at all, and that made me so sad.

  I told Wes he had no family, and it looks like I was right.

  Because I wasn’t his family. I didn’t know what I was to him anymore. A conquest maybe. Maybe he had just wanted to see how far he could push me, a good religious girl, see if he could take my virginity, see if he could bed his step-sister.

  Or maybe I had been something else. Something more. I didn’t know which I wanted to be. I didn’t know if I would ever see him again.

  Maybe that was for the best.

  “Don’t ignore me!”

  My dad’s loud voice broke me out of my thoughts.

  He scowled at me. “Tell me now.”

  Tell him what?

  “Has he defiled you?” he bellowed into my face.

  “No. No!” I scream over and over. “Let me go see my mom. She’ll clear everything up. This is ridiculous! Unless Yvonne saw him, which I’m sure she didn’t, how can you just—”

  “I’m tired of your defiance! You’ve changed so much since Wes tried to taint your soul and have you stray from the Path. The sad part is that you don’t even realize it. You’re quiet and moody all the time. You hide away in your room for hours. You’re thinking about going to a different college even though the one we agreed on is perfectly suitable. You aren’t happy anymore. You’ve lost your way, and I have no choice but to save you myself.”

  Save me? What did he mean? I was too scared to ask.

  My dad took a step back, but I still felt like he was suffocating me. He gave me a small smile that churned my stomach. There wasn’t any happiness in it.

  “You need to go pray in the backyard,” he said calmly, quietly. “You need to pray and beg for forgiveness.”

  Asking why was on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t bother to say anything. He wouldn’t listen to me. Maybe that was why Wes hardly ever talked back to my dad. He probably wanted to but didn’t want to waste the breath.

  “In a few hours,” my dad continued, “we’ll be heading to church.”

  So praying alone wasn’t good enough?

  “You’ll be married to one of the men you met at the ball,” he finished.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Wes

  The ride felt like it took forever, but it really wasn’t that long at all, and muscle memory led me back to the car dealership, which was a good thing, because I still had to pick up my last paycheck.

  Mickey strolled over to me as I walked back to my bike. “Sneaking away without at least saying hi?” he asked.

  I took a deep breath. “Thought it might make things easier.”

  He frowned and looked me up and down. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  I stuck out my hand. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

  Mickey hesitated a second then shook my hand. “Anytime. You’re always welcome here.”

  Somehow, I doubted that. Walter would be sure to come here and blast me, and Mickey would take the word of his old friend over some kid. Then again, Mickey was a good guy. He knew me so much more than Walter did, so much more than Jacqueline did too. Maybe he wouldn’t change his opinion of me. I liked to think that one person thought I was a hard worker, that I was worth something.

  I waved to Mickey, who waved back, and I took off, this time going to the hospital. I wasn’t going to tell her about Yvonne and her theory—she needed to rest up and heal and not worry about the shit going on back at the house. All I wanted to do was make sure she was getting better and give her April’s portion of the emergency stash. Despite our fight, I had raised the money for her, and it didn’t feel right to keep it. Maybe one day, they would push her away too, and she would need the money to be able to flee.

  It was easy to sweet talk the nurse into giving me Roslyn’s room number, and I made my way up to her floor. When I walked in, Roslyn glanced over from looking out the window, and she jerked as if in pain.

  “Why are you here?” she asked, freaking out. “Where’s April? What’s wrong?”

  “Calm down.” The words came out a little harsher than I intended, so I smiled at her and sat on the chair beside her bed. “There’s no reason to be alarmed. Nothing’s wrong. April’s at the house.”

  Well, on second thought, that might be something that is wrong, but I wasn’t about to get into all that.

  “I’m here because I wanted to say goodbye. I’m running while I still can.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t relax at all, her back stiff and straight. “Walter has been coming to see me. He’s been telling me all about his plans.” She covered her face with one hand.

  Why did she look like she was ready to cry? She was almost having a meltdown. A bad feeling started to come over me.

  “His plans for what?” I asked, wondering if I should be asking about who his plans were for instead.

  “Walter’s been coming to me with plans of…” She trailed off, her words hard to hear, muffled by her hand. She exhaled and removed her hand, putting it into her lap where she started to wring her fingers. “He plans to marry April off. And he’s been very passively threatening me into making sure April obeys. He…”

  It was a good thing I was sitting down. Our fight had been why I just stormed off and left April behind. I hadn’t bothered to stop to think about what Walter might do. How could I have been so selfish? Thinking about myself first. That’s what Jacqueline always did. I’m turning into her.

  The thought sickened me.

  Roslyn shuddered and fiddled with her bed sheet with the hand from the non-dislocated arm. “Walter has just been waiting for the right time and excuse to cart me off, and with you and me out of the way, April’s in danger of never being seen again. Her new husband…Oh, God…” Roslyn covered her face again.

  Screw giving Roslyn the money for April. April needed it now.

  Walter had purposely driven me away. Maybe he’d even orchestrated the fight, had maybe even told Yvonne to say that about me pushing Roslyn. He knew what buttons to press to push me away.

  And I had walked right out of the house and April’s life, just like he had planned.

  I could feel myself grow pale. I didn’t even bother to say goodbye to Roslyn. I just got up and ran out of the room and into the hallway where I promptly crashed into a woman. “Sorry,” I muttered.

  She straightened and grabbed my arm before I could go. The woman was covered in tattoos and piercings, and she took one long look at me and then grinned. “Wes, right?”

  What in the Hell? Who the fuck was she?

  I was baffled and in a rush, but she had been right outside of Roslyn’s door.

  Wait a second. She called me Wes. Only April ever called me that.

  Now I felt justified in asking her, “How do you know my name?”

  “We share a mutual friend we both care about very much,” she said, “and if you want to save April, you’re going to need my help.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  April

  The sun beat down on me, and I felt like I was wilting, melting away. Like the April I was was dissolving away into nothingness.

  I also felt numb and so, so alone.

  My knees felt sore. I was near my garden, one of my happy places, but I felt anything but happy. I was trapped. There was nothing I could do. I had thought about taking my car and driving away, but it was almost on empty. I should’ve filled up the gas tank after my last s
hift.

  But where would I have gone anyhow? Sure, I had my friends, but their parents were friends with mine, and there was no way Dad wouldn’t have found me. I couldn’t just drive away. I didn’t have any money. Dad kept it all in savings for me, for college.

  Just another way for him to have a measure of control over me. He had the account in both of our names, and he always made the deposits. I didn’t have access to a card. Would showing them my driver’s license be enough for them to give my access to my funds?

  My head was swimming. I had been in the backyard for forever, or at least it sure felt that way. My hands were clasped in front of me. I was supposed to be praying and begging for forgiveness. When I first came out here, I had started praying, but not for the reason Dad wanted me to. I was praying that I could get out of this, that my life didn’t become a disaster, that I could live my life the way I wanted to and not the way my dad wanted for me. That I would have a better life than my mom. This last prayer made my stomach churn. I hated that Mom was stuck in this life, that she was stuck in the hospital. That I hadn’t seen her yet.

  I should’ve tried to find a way to go see her. I was a horrible excuse of a daughter.

  I felt sick and dizzy. I hadn’t eaten since that morning, and the sun had been burning my skin for hours now. I had never felt uglier or more terrified, and as the minutes ticked on by, I gradually started to try to resign myself to my fate. There was nothing I could do. Wes would be long gone by now, and I didn’t blame him. And Mom was in the hospital.

  I glanced toward the front of the house and my car. Even if it did have a tankful of gas, I still wouldn’t be able to leave. It I tried to run, I just knew my mother would be the one punished, and I couldn’t allow that to happen. Not after everything she had already done for me.

  A car drove up, and the sound of it parking out front startled me. Before I could try to see who it was, the back door opened.

  Yvonne popped her head out. “Come inside and clean yourself up,” she hissed.

  My legs felt like jelly as I stood. My feet had fallen asleep. I shook them out and managed to walk inside the house and upstairs to the bathroom. I took my time washing up, not because I wanted to look nice but because I wanted to avoid everyone. When I walked out of the bathroom, my skin was red but clean and the sweat and grime and tears were gone. I hadn’t even realized I’d been crying outside until I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror.

  That’s how out of touch I was.

  I stood at the top of the stairs, screwed up my courage, and headed on down. In the living room, I found Mickey from the car dealership talking to my dad. His eyes widened when he saw me, but his face quickly returned to normal, and he got up and walked toward me. “April! Good to see you again, my dear.”

  As he reached out to shake my hand, I felt something strange and tried to smile back. But then my gaze fell on my dad. His hard gaze had me shrinking back.

  Footsteps approached from behind, and I looked over my shoulder to see Yvonne there.

  “You need to go start packing,” she said, her voice not quite as sharp as earlier. Probably because of Mickey.

  Head down, I went upstairs, following Yvonne. As if I needed an escort to my room. I felt like a prisoner.

  I waited until I was sure Yvonne had gone back downstairs, and then I looked at the paper Mickey had handed to me when we shook hands. In large, looped cursive letters, the words gave me so much hope.

  Bring what you need and your sister to the end of the street ASAP. Love, C

  For a long moment, I looked back on everything that had happened, starting all the way back at seeing Wesley looking so handsome and so out of place at the baptism to the look on his face as I walked upstairs a few fateful hours ago.

  Hardening my resolve, I grabbed my duffel bag and started to pack as quickly as I could. I only took what I felt was absolutely necessary. When I was ready, I stood at the top of the steps and checked out the scene down below. Mickey was out front with my dad. The car dealer was talking animatedly, pointing and gesturing to the parked vehicle. My dad looked impatient, tapping his foot and peeking at his watch, but he seemed to be trying to be polite.

  From behind me, I heard Yvonne talking to the boys in their room.

  Now was the best shot I would have.

  I scurried down the stairs and headed to the nursery. Penelope looked so peaceful in her bassinette, napping like a little angel. I grabbed the baby bag and then gently took my sister out of the bassinette. It was ridiculous to feel like a thief, but I did as I walked to the door and glanced to the left and right before I headed toward the back door and the backyard. Before I could leave, though, I spied a figure out of the corner of my eye. It was Jacqueline. She was kneeling on the floor of the master bedroom, deep in prayer, her eyes closed.

  At least it wasn’t my dad.

  I rushed once more, silently opening and shutting the back door and then making my way across the huge lawn to the gate. Penelope, thank goodness, was still sleeping in my arms. She was heavy, and the weight of her and the bags made it so I couldn’t move quite as fast as I would like to. If someone were to look out the window, they would see me, and I would be screwed, but the farther I went, the faster I moved, adrenaline giving me strength despite the load I was carrying.

  But then Penelope, my sister, woke up and started to cry. By now, I was sprinting as fast as I could down the sidewalk, tears running down my cheeks again. I didn’t know if anyone was following me, or if any of this was going to work, and I couldn’t stop to think about whether or not this was smart or if my mom would get punished for my action, I just had to keep on going and not look back. Deep down, I knew that if I did look back, I would be destroyed.

  Just as I reached the corner, an SUV peeled out, and Aunt Caroline was yelling, “Jump in!” as the door swung open.

  I scrambled in and into the arms of my mom as the door slammed behind her, and then we were speeding off.

  I was breathing so hard my lungs were burning and Penelope was wailing up a storm, but I slowly realized that we were safe. It had worked.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Thankfully, my mom and aunt had had the foresight to get a car seat, and I struggled to put Penelope in it. She was still crying, and my hands were shaking, so it wasn’t easy, but once she was settled and buckled in, I buckled myself. My hands were still shaking though. I couldn’t calm down. I couldn’t believe it.

  We ran away.

  What would my dad do? How would he react? Would I ever see him again?

  Did I want to see him again?

  And what about Wes? Did he have any idea what was going on? Would I ever see him again?

  The tires squealed a little as Aunt Caro turned onto the highway. She glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “You know, I’ve been saving up and planning for years now in order to get you and Roslyn out.”

  She had? Why hadn’t she told me? And Mom was in on all of this?

  I stared at my mom, my jaw lowered. I was still out of breath yet form my dash to freedom, and I hadn’t said a word yet. I had stopped crying though.

  Roslyn smiled at me then Penelope, and I thought my heart would burst from the look of love she gave us both. Then she smiled at me again before frowning slightly. “I was arranged to marry Walter when I was young as well, and I tried to be the perfect wife for so long. I had you and everything was perfect, but then I didn’t get pregnant again, so he married Yvonne, and she gave him boys. And then I did get pregnant again after such a long time and Yvonne too, and everything with Penelope…I think he married Jacqueline to try to serve as a distraction. But even before Penelope, long before her, I came to my senses.” She inhaled deeply.

  I hated to see her in so much pain, but I didn’t know what I could say that might help her, so I kept silent and let her tell her story without interrupting her.

  “By the time I realized just what my life as Walter’s wife entailed, you were still young, and I was frightened. I decide
d that when you graduated high school, we would leave for good, but before that could happen, Walter…well, when a few years passed that I didn’t get pregnant, he married Yvonne, and he stopped…we didn’t…one night, Walter exercised his right as my husband to have sex with me, and I became pregnant with Penelope.”

  Watching Mom’s face as she talked was incredible. The array of emotions…she looked so bitter and angry when she talked about my dad, but when she talked about my sister or me, she looked so peaceful and happy. By now, Penelope had fallen back asleep, her tiny thumb in her perfect little mouth.