“Son, once you turn eighteen, your body is yours to do with what you like, but until then, you belong to me. No tattoos until you’re old enough to at least buy smokes.” Mr. Palmer winked.
“Don!” Mrs. Palmer yelled jokingly. “Don’t tell him that. No smoking allowed ever. Got that, Brian?” She pointed at him with a fork.
The entire table laughed, and once again, I was taken aback by how lucky I was to be a part of such an amazing family. I tried not to think about what I had to do to receive that luck, but my recurring nightmares were sure to remind me.
After dinner, Nicole and I washed the dinner dishes while Brian and Mr. Palmer left for some early Black Friday sales at GameStop. Brian hadn’t stopped talking about the new war game he wanted to get before they sold out.
I didn’t mind doing dishes. It was the least we could do, considering how much Mrs. Palmer had cooked. The woman spent the two days before Thanksgiving preparing and then spent all of Thanksgiving Day in the kitchen cooking. She was such an amazing mother, and I thanked God every day that he brought the Palmer family into my life.
Even if I had to kill to have such wonder in my world.
I rinsed the dishes as Nicole handed them over to me. My eyes stayed glued to her bubble covered hands. She had beautiful hands—long, slender fingers I’d often imagined on my skin. She didn’t wear a lot of jewelry, only the ring her parents had given her on her sixteenth birthday and her high school ring.
Around her neck, she wore a thin gold chain with a ballerina charm. Growing up, I’d watching the tiny, golden ballerina dance against her growing cleavage. My eyes took in her flushed skin, and my mouth would go dry wanting to taste her salty flesh when she’d come home after being at dance for an hour or two.
I finished the dishes, rinsing a final glass and tucking it into the dish drainer as Nicole wiped at the dish foam that had escaped the deep sink and slid over the granite countertops. Turning off the water, I took the dishtowel when she offered it and dried my hands. Our eyes connected, and even though I tried to look away from her, I couldn’t.
“I’m glad you came to dinner,” she said, tucking a stray blond hair behind her ear.
“Me too.”
As if I’d miss it. I’d longed for family dinners for most of my life. Up until the moment the Palmers took me in. I wasn’t about to take advantage of my good fortune by missing such a special holiday. Especially since I knew Mrs. Palmer had gone out of her way to make a special batch of stuffing just the way I liked it for me … no onions.
“Are we ever going to talk about it?” she asked.
Breaking our connection, I squeezed my eyes shut. I knew she would eventually bring up that day in her room. The day she left for New York when I’d let my control snap. Still, I pretended I didn’t know what she was talking about. It was safer that way.
“Talk about what?”
She moved closer to me, the top of her forehead skimming my chin. The Palmers had a large kitchen, but suddenly, the room felt too small—too warm. I backed away from her, my hips slamming into the countertop, but before Nicole could follow me, Mrs. Palmer interrupted.
“Hey, guys, everything okay?” Her brows pulled down in question.
Nicole and I nodded quickly, probably making ourselves look even guiltier.
She chuckled. “Are you sure? You can cut the tension in here with a knife.”
Nicole saved us by saying, “We’re fine, Mom.”
Mrs. Palmer turned away and starting rearranging some of the leftovers pans of food.
“If you say so.” She shrugged. And then her blue eyes were on me, making me feel guilty for lying to her. “Ty, sweetie, do you think you could run Nicole to the store to pick up a few things for me? I called Don to see if he could stop on the way home, but the old fool left his cell on the table.”
She continued to move around the kitchen in her usual busy fashion, gathering leftovers and making sure to make me a plate of everything she’d cooked to take home.
My eyes clashed with Nicole’s, and she smirked up at me. She wanted to get me alone so we could talk about things I didn’t even want to think about—things that made my body hard and my craving for her intensify.
Just Nicole and me.
Alone.
In a car.
Together.
It was going to be hell, but I couldn’t say no. I’d never been able to say no to the Palmers, and I wasn’t about to start now.
I nodded, pulling my eyes away from Nicole’s. “Yes, ma’am. What do you need?”
“Just some aluminum foil to cover these plates and paper towels. I’m not sure how we managed to run out, but I’ll definitely need some to get this stuff ready to take to the shelter.”
I collected my keys from the counter and went for my coat. Nicole followed behind me, grabbing her scarf from the coat rack and wrapping it around her slender neck.
Already, I was swallowing harder with the thought of being alone with her, and we hadn’t even left the house yet.
“Anything else you need?” I called out before I went to the front door.
Mrs. Palmer peeked her head around the corner with a smile. “No, hon, I think that’ll do.”
I nodded and opened the front door. Cool air rushed into the foyer, and the smell of autumn filled my senses. The door was cold in my grip as I held it open for Nicole to go out before me, and when she did, my eyes went directly to her tight ass.
The long sweater she was wearing wasn’t long enough to cover her ass completely, and her black tights hugged the curves of her hips and ass like a dream. My eyes dipped down her lean thighs as we took the sidewalk to my car until my eyes were resting on the back of her knees and moving over her suede knee-high boots.
She was killing me. The way she walked. The sway of her hips. I wanted to fill my hands with her ass and squeeze.
I opened the passenger side door for her, and she turned and faced me with a smile before she dipped down and fell onto the black leather seat.
“Seat belt,” I murmured before I reached for the door to shut it for her.
“Yes, sir,” she said, looking up at me with a grin.
Quickly, I slammed the door and took a deep breath. White clouds of heat filled the air in front of me on my exhale.
I hadn’t been in a car alone with Nicole since high school. Once I was driving and had my car running well, it only made sense for her to ride to school with me since we were going to the same place.
Back then, Nicole was still extremely shy and quiet. I didn’t have to worry about her speaking up or asking questions. By that point, nothing had happened between us other than the innocent smiles and stares. That wasn’t the case on this ride. Things had happened between us, and she’d gained confidence since graduating high school.
It was hell.
It was going to be pure torture.
Of course, anything involving Nicole had always been torture.
Sweet, sweet torment.
I kept the radio volume up on the ride to the store, which thankfully was only a few minutes from the house. The music flowed through my car, making it next to impossible to have a conversation. Every time she moved, I went tense, thinking she was moving to turn the radio down so she could talk to me, but she never did. I breathed a sigh of relief once we pulled into the store parking lot and got out.
It was a quick trip, her getting the paper towels while I found the aluminum foil. I followed her to the checkout, keeping my eyes on everything around me to prevent me from staring at her perky ass.
The young boy behind the register rang the two items up, and I pulled out my wallet to pay before Nicole could dig the money out of her back pocket.
“I got it,” I said, shoving my debit card at the cashier.
She nodded, stuffing the money her mom had given her into a tiny donation cup sitting on the side of the register.
I smiled inside.
She was selfless that way. Then again, her entire family was. I could
remember when we were younger, I watched from across the cafeteria as Nicole gave her lunch money to a girl who never ate lunch. She snagged an apple from Amber’s tray and ate it with a smile as the other girl sat across the lunchroom and filled her stomach for what I was sure was the first time in a long time.
She never wanted recognition for these things. Honestly, anytime I brought up her good deeds, she’d shrug it off or deny it. It was one of the many things I admired about Nicole.
She was an angel.
My angel.
No … my tiny dancer.
Even if I could never have her, I could dream about it. Even if I would never allow myself the tiniest taste of her, Nicole had already given me so much over the years. I’d forever be grateful to her and her family.
The plastic bag stretched under the weight of the paper towels and aluminum foil when I picked it up. Nicole thanked the cashier and followed me toward the door. When the automatic doors opened, I stepped out into the cool autumn air, but she remained behind.
“What’s up? You comin’?” I asked.
She nodded. “I forgot something. Go ahead. I’ll be right out.”
Then she turned and sprinted back toward the aisles.
Pulling my jacket collar up closer to my neck, I walked to my car and climbed inside. The engine roared when I cranked it, and loud music filled the cab, prompting me to turn the radio off completely.
The beginnings of a headache were already forming, and I knew once Nicole got in my car, I’d have to crank the music back up. All I needed was a few minutes of peace and quiet before she climbed into my space again.
Resting the back of my head against the headrest, I closed my eyes and waited until she returned. It was a holiday, which meant the parking lot wasn’t full, but still, the sounds of the world outside filled my ears. I heard a mom yelling at her kids to get in their van. The sounds of a large truck engine coming to life had roared before the truck pulled away and the sounds slowly disappeared.
Then I heard Nicole’s voice.
“No, thank you,” she said.
I kept my eyes closed, waiting for the sound of the passenger side door to open, but it never did. Instead, her voice sounded again.
“Seriously, guys, I said no thanks.”
My eyes scanned the parking lot until they landed on her. She was trying to step around two guys who continued to block her path. She’d step to the left, and they’d follow her, keeping her from leaving.
“What? You don’t remember us?” the taller of the two said as he shifted to the side and blocked her path once again.
Her plump lips went tight, and aggravation filled her expression.
“You’re being ridiculous. Just let me pass.”
I was out of the car and headed in their direction. My fists flexed at my sides. In high school, I’d gotten into many fights over Nicole. Guys were always pulling shit like this with her—being annoying pricks to get her attention—but we weren’t in high school anymore. These were grown men pulling stupid bullshit with her, and I wasn’t having it.
“If you want to pass, you gotta give up that ass,” one of them muttered.
Fire shot down my spine. I saw red before I even stepped foot onto the sidewalk just outside the store.
“What the fuck did you just say to her?”
My vision was tunneling around the two—everything around me blacking out except for the view of their faces. Surely, I’d heard them wrong. Surely, these motherfuckers weren’t sitting on the corner outside of a store talking shit.
Then I got a good look at them, and I remembered them from school. If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d already beat their asses for something similar our junior year.
“Nothing, man, I was just fucking around,” the taller one backpedaled.
Chris.
His fucking name was Chris. I definitely remembered him.
“Just fucking around? That’s a pretty shitty way to fuck around, don’t you think?”
Nicole’s fingers dug into my arm, her touch sending me reeling and turning my attention on her. Her blue eyes glowed in the dim lighting around us.
“Come on, Tyson. Let’s just go. It’s no big deal.”
I shook my arm for her to release me, but her fingers tightened, her tiny fingernails pinching at my skin. Her touch—I hated it, and I loved it, but the bite from her tiny fingers only fueled me—pushed me harder. She was so much smaller—so helpless. I couldn’t let these assholes disrespect her like that.
“Tell her you’re sorry,” I demanded.
The smaller one had the audacity to laugh. I smelled the alcohol on his breath when his chuckle filled the air with the white clouds of his breath.
“What?” Again, he laughed.
My anger was growing, and the muscles in my arms were starting to ache from being so tight and ready to strike.
“Tell. Her. You’re. Sorry.” I spoke each word slowly and clearly.
His face split into another smile, and with courage I knew he’d found at the bottom of a bottle, he pressed his palm into my chest and said, “Man, get the fuck outta here with that shit.”
His touch was totally different than Nicole’s. It zapped me, pushing me from the man I was to the boy I used to be. I shook my head to rid myself of the memories it invoked.
Needles.
Fingers.
Touching me.
His touch burned me all over, pushing memories to the front of my mind like a movie and snapping my sanity. I felt it coming … the moment when I’d lose all control. That part always scared me. I worried that one day I’d hurt someone too much, and part of me knew if these fuckers didn’t apologize or if one of them touched me again, I’d hurt them.
They turned to walk away, but I was way past that point. Reaching out, I grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to put my fist through this goofy grin, but I never hit first. It was a rule of mine.
“I said tell her you’re sorry.”
Again, he pushed at my chest, and the binds holding me in check loosened once again. Every time he touched me, it sent me spiraling.
“Man, get the fuck off me. This ain’t high school anymore, Tyson.”
He remembered me too, which made him even dumber. I’d already kicked his ass once; I wasn’t afraid to do it again.
His fist dug into my chest, pushing me further away, and I felt myself losing a grip on the situation. I blinked, trying to hold the control, but I was slipping.
“Stop,” Nicole called out. “You guys just stop. Come on, Tyson. Let’s go.”
She slid between us, replacing his rough fist with her soft fingers against my chest. I looked down at her tiny fingers before taking in her beautiful face—her perky nose and plump lips—and the slight flush on her cheeks from worry. And I knew I had to walk away. For her, I’d do anything—at least anything that didn’t involve her ruin by me.
I nodded, letting her press me back toward the car, but before I could turn away, the dumb fuck spoke again.
“I’ll see you again, sexy,” he called out to Nicole. “And next time, your little boyfriend won’t get in the way.”
My memory lapsed, and all I could see were his fingers—the tattooed needles—touching me, hurting me … hurting Nicole.
Needles.
Needles.
Needles.
I broke my never hit first rule. Somehow, I went from standing in front of Nicole to being on top of the asshole that wouldn’t shut his fucking face. I hit him square in the nose as his friend tugged at my shoulders, trying to pull me off. I didn’t care. I’d had my fill with these assholes and the way they were treating Nicole. I hit him again, his cheekbone cracking my knuckles.
Still, his friend cussed me and pulled at my clothes ripping my shirt and pissing me off even more. Every time he touched me, it was like throwing fuel on the fire. I reared back to hit him again, but his friend caught my arm, and the blaze inside me grew hotter.
I shook him o
ff, not even bothering to turn and face him, but as I shook him from my arm, the back of my hand caught something soft and warm—sucking me from my fire burning haze and bringing me back to reality.
I turned around, realizing it wasn’t his friend I’d hit, and when I did, I saw Nicole sitting on the asphalt behind me cupping her cheek. Her eyes were wide and full of pain—her mouth open in shock.
I’d hit her.
Everything shut down, and devastation swooped in squeezing my heart until I felt like it would pop. I rushed to her side, leaving the asshole and his friend, and tried to move her hand to see if I’d left any damage. She turned away, not allowing me to see the side of her face.
Forgetting my rule to never touch Nicole, I scooped her into my arms and carried her across the parking lot to my car. She leaned into my chest; her touch made my skin ache yet brought relief at the same time.
My body was tense, but I breathed her in, the scent of her shampoo invading my senses. She smelled amazing, and I hated myself for even thinking those kinds of things when there was no telling what kind of damage I’d done to her cheek.
I set her on the hood of my car and turned her to face me. Moving between her legs, I brushed at her hands to get them away from her face, but she refused to move her hand. Still, the air was punched from my lungs when I saw the reddened skin of her cheek between her slender fingers.
“Nicole, I …” The words broke on top of my tongue, and when I opened my mouth to try again, only a squeak sounded.
I couldn’t even speak. Nothing I could say would make what I’d done better. I’d never in my life put my hands on a woman, and the thought of hurting Nicole physically made me sick to my stomach.
“Don’t worry about it, Tyson. It’s fine. Don’t freak out or anything. It was an accident.”
And then she moved her hand, and I saw the red splotch of skin on her cheek where the back of my hand had struck her. My stomach bottomed out. Without even thinking, I took her cheeks in my palms to examine the damage in better lighting, tilting her head toward the parking lot lights. I’d always hated myself and everything I stood for, but seeing what I’d done to her delicate flesh made me despise myself even more.
Black Sheep Page 5