“Oh, hush girl,” Aunt Monica says, working her way down another braid. “I’m not that old. I know stuff. I’m hip.”
“If you really were hip, then you wouldn’t have used the word hip.” Kai chuckles as she starts on another braid.
“I hate to agree with her Auntie, but she’s right.”
“Whatever.” Aunt Monica rolls her eyes and playfully swats me on the head with a comb.
I giggle and tilt my head to the side while they work, letting my body relax for the first time since the night in the treehouse.
We moved to Newton shortly after the accident. My scar tingles at the memory. I was having a hard time processing my grief, and I couldn’t handle the guilt. One night, when Dad was on-call and I was home alone without mom for the first time, I freaked. I dug a steak knife in the side of my arm, hoping the physical pain could lessen the emotional hell, only I went too deep. Dad found me the next morning, bloody and weak. I’d never seen my daddy afraid of anything in his life, but that day, the look in his eyes, I knew I needed to be stronger for him. A month later, he’d quit his job and we moved to Georgia.
Dad’s mom passed away before I was born. He never knew his father and didn’t have any siblings. So, my mom’s family is the only family I’ve ever known.
“Are you excited about the trip?” Auntie asks.
“Yes, excited and nervous.”
“We were crazy, your momma and me, but it was one of the best times of my life.” There’s a fondness in her voice, as if she’s recalling the adventure she and Momma went on when they were my age. I’ve gotten glimpses from Momma’s diary, but Auntie says she left out all the incriminating stuff. She told me she’d tell me all about it when I was grown.
“I think it’s brave,” Kai throws in. “Driving all that way, just the two of you.”
“It wasn’t brave then. It was necessary. Mel was going to college, even if Momma had to drag her there herself.”
“Amen,” Nana calls from the kitchen. We have an inside joke that she has selective bionic hearing. She’ll pop you across the head if you swear under your breath, but watches her game shows on the highest volume because she can’t hear what the man is saying.
Auntie looks down at me with loving eyes. I blink back the emotion because she looks so much like Mom that it hurts to look at her sometimes. “She would be so proud of you, Tru.”
“What was she like back then?” I ask, changing the subject because I’m not actually sure how proud she’d be. Momma wouldn’t have kept quiet about the treehouse. She would have marched right to the police station and demanded her justice. I stayed in bed crying for three days, then let the asshole corner me in a fitting room.
“Your momma?” Aunt Monica asks, oblivious to the shift in my posture. I nod. “She was bullheaded.”
“Sounds like her. Daddy used to call her Melody the Mule. She’d get so mad at him.” I giggle, picturing her with her hands on her hips, glaring at him when she didn’t think I was looking.
“Yup. You couldn’t tell the girl nothing. Only one she’d half-way listen to was Momma.”
As if on cue, Nana pokes her head out of the kitchen. The smell of fried chicken, collard greens, and baked mac and cheese waft through the air making my stomach growl. “The girl was stubborn, not stupid. Y’all about done?” she asks. The smooth mahogany skin around her mouth turned up as she assesses my hair. The purple obviously hasn’t grown on her as much as it has Auntie.
“Yes, ma’am,” Kai says. “Just a few more braids.”
“Alright. When you finish, go and wake up your daddy so he can eat before work.”
“Yes ma’am.” I nod as she turns and heads back into the kitchen.
“Anyway, your mom got it in her head that she didn’t need school to be a writer, that she needed to live. Momma wasn’t going for that, so they compromised. If she could drive across country to school, then she’d go without a fight. Somewhere along the way, I got roped in, as some sort of chaperone. Me.” Auntie scoffs. She lifts her hands over Kai’s ears and murmurs. “The girl who got knocked-up at sixteen.”
“I can hear you, Momma.” Kai rolls her eyes.
“Anyway, your nana had no choice but to agree, otherwise, Mel threatened to turn down that scholarship and use the money she’d saved up for a one-way ticket to Europe. She’d got it in her head that she was some sort of Ernest Hemingway, only instead of Cuba, she’d live in Spain.”
“I remember her talking about her Hemingway period. I just thought she was crazy.”
“She was.” Auntie throws her head back, and a deep belly laugh spills from her lips. “And smart. And kind. And full of adventure. I was blessed to be her sister. To experience her.”
This time, I can’t help the tear that rolls down my cheek. Kai comes to the end of the last braid and swipes it with her thumb. “All right, girl, you’re all done.”
I stretch my arms over my head. The weight of the added hair and holding the uncomfortable position for so long has caused stiffness in my neck. I stare at my reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall. Long, purple braids cascade over brown skin and I make a silent promise to myself to be a girl who would make my momma proud.
After dinner, we say goodbye to Aunt Monica, Nana, and Kai. Kai needed to get on the road before it got too dark, though part of me wished she could’ve stayed a little while longer.
“This is for you.” Dad hands me a present, wrapped in shiny pink paper and tied with a big white bow. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a college t-shirt, his duffle parked at the door.
“Dad, you didn’t have to get me anything. You’ve already spent too much.” My graduation present was funding this trip because the handful of babysitting gigs and a part-time job at Dairy Queen barely covered gas let alone hotels and food.
“I know I didn’t have to.” His brow wrinkles, the dark brown skin creasing with amusement. “But I also know this is important to you. It’s the only reason I’m letting my seventeen-year-old—”
I hold up a hand to stop him. “I’ll be eighteen in two weeks.”
He snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. It’s a practiced move, his dad stance. The one he gives me when he wants to remind me which of us is the parent and which of us is the child. “It’s the only reason I’m letting my teenage daughter go traipsing across the country without adult supervision.”
I take the gift and walk over to the couch. Dad follows. “Mom did it when she was my age,” I remind him, giving the box a little shake.
A sad smile tugs at his lips. He tosses a gray throw pillow aside and takes a seat next to me. “How are you doing, Tru? I know you must miss her like crazy right now.”
“No more than usual.” I lift a shoulder as guilt claws its way through my chest. “I’m sorry you didn’t get more time with her.”
“No, don’t do that baby girl,” he warns. His dark eyes shine with concern. “The accident wasn’t your fault.”
Tears cloud my vision. No matter how many times he says it, I can’t believe it. The scar on my wrist itches, and I have to force myself not to scratch. I’ve caused Dad enough pain. He’s already worried about me leaving; I don’t want to add more stress. Swallowing back my rebuttal, I tear open the package and stare down at the camera box. Not just any camera, A Sony a6000. It’s lightweight, perfect for traveling. I’ve had my eye on it for as long as I’ve been planning this trip. “Dad.” My eyes dart up from the camera to his.
“Is that the right one?”
“This is…” Words fail. The little voice inside my head is telling me I don’t deserve any of this, but I do my best to ignore it. I’ve wanted one for so long... I’ve waited for this trip for so long... Finally, everything is falling into place. “Amazing.”
He tips his chin to the box in my hand. “Your mom had her diary. I want you to be able to leave your kids with memories of this time too. Who knows, maybe it can be like a Parker tradition?”
I throw my arms around his neck, inhaling
the clean scent of his soap mixed with peppermints. “I’m gonna miss you.”
“Me too, baby girl.” He gives me one last squeeze, then reluctantly lets me go. I follow him to the door. “I’m sorry I have to work.”
“It’s okay. I get it, you’ve got lives to save,” I say as bravely as I can. Deep down, I wish he didn’t have to go either, but I’m about to set off on a three-week road trip, then college in the fall. Life is changing, I’m changing. I can’t hide behind my daddy forever.
“I’ll be here in the morning before you and Becca jump on the road,” he promises, as he unlocks the front door.
The Georgia sun sits low in the sky as we step out onto the porch. Warmth greets me followed by an instant sense of dread. Noah’s Jeep is parked directly across from my house. His massive body is leaning against the passenger side door. A pair of gray joggers hang from his hips and a Newton t-shirt stretches across his broad chest, highlighting the dips and planes of what’s hidden underneath.
My heart thuds in my chest.
My body buzzes with trepidation.
Dad, apparently noticing the shift, follows my line of sight. He makes a low grunting sound in the back of his throat. “What is this?” he asks, probably wondering what Newton High School’s star basketball player is doing at our house.
I force out a breath, steadying my frayed nerves. “I don’t actually know.”
Dad lifts his hand, gesturing for Noah to come closer.
Noah looks left, then right, his floppy black hair falling in his face with each movement. Pushing off the side of his car, he rakes a hand through his hair as his long legs eat the distance. “Mr. Parker, nice to finally meet you.” Noah extends his hand like he’s some well-mannered boy here to take the girl he likes on a date.
My dad arches a skeptical brow but takes his hand. “I hope this goes without saying, but I’m going to say it anyway. Truly is my only child. I will kill to protect her.”
My mouth drops open in surprise. “Dad!”
He ignores me and continues addressing Noah. “I don’t know where you came from, or what happened to the other boy, but there will be no sex in my house.”
“Oh my God, Dad!” I move to pry his hand from Noah’s.
“Truly, I know that you’re almost eighteen, and I know that you’re about to go on a cross country road trip without any parental supervision. I also know that I’m an ER doctor, on a night rotation, so there isn’t much I can do if you want to sneak your boyfriend in the house, but I can scare you with the statistics of teenage venereal disease.”
“Dad.” I hold up my hand to cut him off. “I’m a virgin, and also I’m not an idiot, and Noah and I are not boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“I wasn’t born yesterday, baby girl.” Dad looks between us. “I see a boy looking at a girl the way this boy is looking at you, and I know it’s only a matter of time before he makes a move. That kind of intensity…it’s more than just friends.” He eyes Noah, sizing him up, the same way he did the first time he met Devin.
I’m hoping he sees the evil and sends him away, but he doesn’t say another word. Just releases his hand and gives him a clipped nod.
Noah nods back, some unspoken understanding between the two, and it honestly makes me want to barf. He hated Devin and never missed the opportunity to remind me. Yet, with Noah, who I’m convinced has a hole in his chest where his heart should be, he likes. If only he knew.
“Have a good night, baby girl.” Dad pulls me in for another hug. “I’ll be back in the morning before you girls take off. I love you.” He turns to Noah. “Tedesco.”
Noah straightens. “Goodnight, Sir.”
Dad bounds down the stairs, slides into his car, and pulls out of the driveway, leaving me alone with my tormentor.
“What are you doing here?” My voice is resigned. I’ve just got to put up with his shit for one more day, and then I’m free.
“You’re leaving tomorrow,” he says simply. Something in my chest aches at the simplicity of his words. My tormentor came to say goodbye, yet the boy I spent the last two years worshiping hasn’t even responded to my text messages. When I don’t reply, he thumbs toward the swing on the porch. “Sit with me.”
He’s not forcing me inside, so I reluctantly turn. It’s that time of the evening, where it isn’t quite dark, but it isn’t quite daytime. People are out, kids are playing, families living, which is the only reason I nod. I’d rather deal with Noah in public than Noah alone.
We swing in silence for a minute before he speaks. There’s a cut under his right eye that wasn’t there the other day. I absently wonder how he got it, then I remember I don’t care.
“I like your hair,” he tells me, fingering the end of one of my braids.
I yank it from his hand and toss it over my shoulder. “Why are you here?” I demand, getting straight to the point. I’m too tired after a long emotional day, in what seems to be a never-ending stream of long and emotional days, to waste time with small talk.
“I contemplated slashing your tires,” he says nonchalantly, lifting his foot to rest on the edge of the swing. “But your dad’s car was still here, so I had to wait.”
“What?” I nearly choke. My eyes shift to my silver Corolla, which is thankfully unscathed.
Noah, unaffected, continues. “Then I realized, I’d probably have to slash Becca’s tires too, and logistically, it didn’t work, because what if you guys were renting a car or something?”
“You’d have done all that slashing for nothing,” I muse, marveling at the casual way Noah talks about committing felonies.
“Exactly.” His gaze lands on the camera box that’s still in my hands. He snags it from me, the muscles in his forearm flex as he flips it over and reads the back. I hate myself for noticing. I hate myself for staring at the way the veins pulse. I hate the way my pulse roars in my ears at his nearness. The way my hands still shake when he’s around. I want nothing more than to exorcise the memory of him from my brain, but his new-found obsession with me is making it nearly impossible.
“I take it this is for your stupid fucking road trip?”
I snatch my camera back, not trusting Slashy McTire with nice things. “What is your problem with my road trip?”
“I thought I had the summer.” He shrugs.
I gape at him as a couple pushing a stroller walk past, smiling at us, in an aw look, young love, kind of way. “You thought you had the summer to terrorize me?” He’s fucked in the head. It’s the only explanation I can come up with. Seriously, who says shit like that?
“I got drunk at the party because I had a shitty day. Saw you there alone, without my stupid fucking brother, and took shit a little too far.”
“A little?” I want to punch him in his stupid perfect face. Taking things a little too far would have been kissing me without permission. Maybe an ass slap or a boob grab. He pole-vaulted over the line of human decency with a casualness that’s as fucked up as it is frightening.
“I like the way your pussy tastes, and I really like the way you look with my dick in your mouth.” The corner of his mouth tips up in a lopsided smirk. His whiskey eyes glaze over, as if he’s picturing it now.
I’m gonna be sick. “Can you not casually bring up the time you sexually assaulted me? It might have been fun for you, but I still have trouble sleeping.”
Noah assesses me, sucking his plush bottom lip into his mouth, chewing on my words. “It could have been worse. I deserve a medal for showing restraint.”
“Am I supposed to thank you for only raping me a little bit? You know what? It doesn’t even matter. This.” I gesture between us. “Whatever you think it is...it’s not. I don’t want anything to do with you.” I stand, anger coursing through my body. It’s better than fear, and it’s damn sure better than checking out his muscles in his whore outfit. “I’m sorry, my stupid fucking trip ruined your summer plans, but you’ll have to go back to getting lazy head from Lucy and leave me the fuck alone.” I storm towards t
he door, appalled by Noah’s level of entitlement. It isn’t until I reach the threshold that I realize he’s following me.
Oh shit.
His hand on my wrist halts my exit. “I could give you good memories,” he says, pressing his chest against my back. “Memories of me being gentle to erase the bad ones?” The door clicks open, and I stumble inside. Noah locks the door behind us.
We stand in the entryway, toe-to-toe. My skin is on fire. My heart feels like it’s trying to leap out of my chest. I’m home alone with the beautiful monster from my nightmares.
“Get out.” My voice shakes as I try to formulate a plan of attack. I will not let him use me like he did the other night. I can’t let that happen again. It will without a doubt break me.
“No can do, Truly.” He shakes his head. “I like having you at my mercy a little too much, and I’ve only got one more night with you.”
Hot tears roll down my cheeks. I am a fucking idiot. I let a madman get away with a crime and now he thinks he has free rein to do it again. “Noah, get out.” I set my camera down on the table and discreetly reach for my phone, but he’s too quick. He snags the damn thing and pockets it.
“I was there, Tru.” He advances, backing me into the corner. “I felt the way your body reacted. How wet your pussy was for me. The exact moment you went from being afraid for me to push you too far, to secretly hoping that I would. Do you know how much of a cock tease you are?”
“I’m not teasing you. And I don’t know how your psychotic brain processes information, but the only thing I want is for you to leave me alone.”
“That’s your skewed moral compass talking. Not you.”
I push him hard in the chest, but he barely budges. “My moral compass isn’t the one who led me to hold a girl captive in a treehouse.”
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