He doesn't answer. I can see he's trying to find the words to respond. I know my tone is harsh and I know I have no right to judge him or question his actions. He is, after all, an adult and can make his own choices. As reckless as they might be. I have no hold over what he does. I decide to change the subject, pushing down my need to take him upstairs and punish him. A few spankings would do it. We haven't discussed anything of that nature, though, so there is no second thought about it.
I heave a deep breath. "Are you hungry?"
He looks at me again. The barest tilt of his chin is answer enough. "I'll take Riley out and make a sandwich while you get ready for bed. I'll bring it up to you."
"Thank you." He nods once more, glances at Riley with a small smile, and turns to walk up the stairs. I watch him for a couple of steps before moving through the house.
I let my mind wander as Riley starts sniffing around for the perfect spot to do his business. My mind jumps from one thing to another in quick succession: work today, the camp, seeing my friends with their Littles. I know the history between Remington and Austin; Remington told me the highlights of what happened. Looking at Austin now and how happy he is with his Daddy, you'd never know the pain he's gone through.
My thoughts naturally go to Orion. He looked interested, standing in Dreamland. Interested, but hesitant. Maybe he would be a good Boy. Not so much the age play side of things, which is definitely more Remington and Rachel's speeds. I'll talk to him over breakfast about it. I don't have to be at work until noon. Perks of owning my own business.
Riley trots up to me, tongue lolling. The wind is blowing slightly, giving the air a chill. I open the sliding door and let him back in. He goes right through the kitchen and disappears down the hall. He's most likely looking for Orion.
I move to the fridge and grab the fresh sliced sandwich meat, turkey and ham. I've been getting it sliced at the bakery by my work building for years now. Bougie, maybe, but totally worth the money and time to get it.
I cut the sandwiches diagonally and plate the triangles haphazardly. There's no noise coming from the rooms or the bathroom when I reach the top of the stairs. I don't even see Riley. He usually lays in the hallway or right at the steps waiting for me to come to bed.
The second guest room door is open. I peek in, ready to offer a sandwich, but stop short at the sight before me.
Orion is curled up on his side in the middle of the bed. I can see his hair is damp and he's only in his underwear. He didn't even untuck the blankets, passing out on top of them. Riley, acting like he has no sense, has curled himself into a ball against Orion's stomach. Orion's body shifts, his arm wrapping around my dog and snuggling closer to him.
The sight is adorable.
Chapter Three
Present Day
Forthefirsttimein over a month, I wake up warm and semi-refreshed.
My first paycheck from the coffee shop job went to paying bills. Making sure I kept a place to live for at least another month. I saved some extra money by being smart about the allocated amount of money we get for lunch at the shop. There aren't a lot of food choices, but I've lived off of less for longer. My second paycheck was for me. Well, half went to paying on a credit card I really am trying to keep from going to collections. They've been hounding my phone for weeks now.
The other half went to buying things for the apartment, things I need. I tried to be smart with the money. I had a couple hundred dollars, but things are expensive. I never realized how much it cost to buy a pot to cook in. Or sheets, blankets. Curtains.
I got rid of the bed frame once I realized that a Queen sized mattress was way out of the budget for me. I bought one of those mattresses that come in a box and found a cheap, well used, bed frame for sale at a yard sale a block from the apartment. I know it's meant to be for a child, with the faded red paint and the stickers that were attempted to be pulled off, but it works. My next big purchase was a good blanket and a pillow.
I aimed to go for a plain colored blanket, something simple, but when I spotted the Ninja Turtles one, I couldn't resist. I grew up watching Ninja Turtles. It came on after I would put my siblings to bed for the night, the one time I had to myself. Those four turtles and rat kept me company while I did homework or cleaned up the house.
My alarm goes off for the second time and I sit up to reach for it off the folding table next to my bed. It's only six in the morning. My shift starts right at opening time. I have a little bit of time, but it takes me at least thirty minutes to walk to work.
The floor goes from carpet to linoleum in the bathroom and I curl my toes at how cold it is. I can't afford to turn the heat on much. The bathroom is… small. It's a shower that I barely fit in, toilet, and sink. The grout around the tiles on the floor is old and stained. The sink has peeling caulk where the counter meets the wall. I've cleaned the mirror, but it still looks dirty. There is only one light above the mirror and it gives a whole 'serial killer lives here' vibe.
I brush my teeth and relieve myself before heading to the tiny kitchen. It's just as plain and used as the rest of the place. Simple, white fridge. Countertops are green and the cabinets below are a medium wood color. It doesn't really match. I have a microwave and a stove but that's it. Which means it's another quick breakfast of a fried egg on untoasted toast.
"It's called bread. Untoasted toast is just bread, genius." I grumble the thought to myself as I try to wake up. I open the fridge and stare at the lack of food. It's sad. Nothing like the fridge at Garrett's place.
I sigh, remembering that morning. It's been six weeks and I haven't once used the number he gave me. I thought about it more than once, but I felt so embarrassed last time. I'd fallen asleep within minutes of getting out of the shower. When I woke up the next morning, I was covered by a blanket and Riley, his dog, was curled up by my feet.
He was already awake and making breakfast when I walked down in my clothes, which I suspect he washed while I was passed out. He smiled and asked if I had any allergies before making me a plate with hash browns, pancakes, and bacon. It was the first real meal I had in weeks. First homemade meal in even longer than that. I devoured it before he even finished his two slices of bacon. He didn't comment on it, just asked if I wanted anything else. I declined.
We made small talk while he finished eating. Where I lived, how I found the club, if I wanted a ride home or to stay another night. I was tempted to take him up on the offer, but I didn't want to impose. After I said my goodbyes to Riley, he did drive me back to my place. I could sense his judgement of the apartments, though he didn't say anything. Neither of us really spoke outside of me giving him directions.
The memories of a warm house and comfortable bed fade when I step outside. It's the week before Christmas and freezing. I pull the thin jacket a bit tighter around me and fold my arms across my chest. There's no wind this morning, thankfully, but it doesn't cut the cold any more. My apartment is on the second floor and I clomp down the stairs quickly. I have exactly half an hour to get to work, but only ten minutes to pass by the corner of Greenway and Tinker Street.
The biggest selling point on the apartment— the only really, because there isn't much to be grateful for other than cheap rent— is that it's close by to where my siblings still live. I haven't talked to them in years, but I've kept tabs. I've made sure they were okay without them seeing me. If they saw me, chances were they'd tell our parents. Then my parents would try to manipulate them to ask me for things. I want to help my siblings, I know that my harsh feelings are toward the two that gave us life isn't their fault. I can barely afford a one bedroom, much less support three others.
They're standing by the Stop sign, just like each day they have school. Jayden has his hood up, Katy is saying something but I'm way too far to hear it. My youngest sister, Quinn, is huddled close to Jayden for warmth. She's wearing a hoodie that looks like she outgrew last year. While I'm twenty-two, the others are still middle and high school ages: Jayden, sixteen, Katy, fifteen, and Quinn just turned twelve. Katy will be celebrating her Sweet Sixteen at the end of February.
I watch them for a minute before I continue on. I hate that I can't talk to them. Maybe now that I have money coming in, I can buy a few things and leave it for them. I'd drop it by the house, but I don't know if my parents would take the items or not. Try to sell them or use them for themselves. Maybe leave breakfast? I always made them food before school, so they would know it was from me, right?
