“I really don’t feel good, Pop. Please…” I trail off, and he shushes me, his large hand squeezing my shoulder.
“It’s fine, hun. You don’t have to go tonight. Do you need anything?” he asks sweetly. The glimpse of the stepfather I’ve always known shines through. Maybe Dave and Paul were fucking with me, or I misunderstood? “Do you want the heatin’ pad, some Tylenol?” he asks, and I nod my head, sniffling a confused sob. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squeezing my shoulder one more time.
I curl up and hold my knees to my stomach, willing the pain to go away. All I hear are footsteps as he returns, but he doesn’t enter my room right away. After a short pause, muffled voices filter through my door.
“What are you doin’ here?” Kurt demands, his voice not soft. He sounds more irritated than anything.
“I wanted to talk to you,” the voice responds. It’s obnoxious that I immediately know it’s Tate speaking
“Nothin’ to talk about,” Kurt dismisses.
“I come home after a decade and you really don’t want to talk about it?” Tate asks.
“You left. You didn’t want to be a part of this—now that there’s no other options for you is when you grace this club with your fuckin’ presence. What? You expect me to be fuckin’ happy to see you again?” Kurt snarls, and I wince at his tone, along with the cramp rolling through my abdomen.
“I was hopin’ we could start over, try to mend this,” Tate reasons.
“You’re patched in, you’re a part of the club, that’s all you’re gonna get from me,” Kurt states coldly, and my heart breaks for Tate.
“If that’s all that you want, fine,” Tate says, but through the door I can’t see his expression. There’s a silence as the handle of my doorknob turns. “Is she okay?” Tate asks, his voice a little louder now. Kurt must have the door partially open. I’m curled up facing the window so I can’t see them.
“It’s none of your business. She’s my family, not yours,” Kurt sneers. There’s silence as he walks through and then shuts the door behind him. I take a shuddering breath, having heard their conversation that was clearly not meant for my ears.
Kurt plugs in the heating pad and hands me the Tylenol. Maybe in my current state, he’s more willing to answer my questions. “What happened between you two?” I ask, and Kurt sighs. His hand rubbing up and down on my back.
“Nothin’ for you to worry about, hun. We’ll figure our shit out,” he says, in lieu of answering the question.
“It sounded like you don’t want to figure it out,” I reply. His hand pauses on my back, and he looks down at me contemplatively.
“I guess… maybe, I’m still hurt by the past,” he admits.
“Giving him the cold shoulder isn’t going to help,” I tell him honestly.
How in the world does he expect to have a relationship with his son when he talks to him the way he does? I barely remember Tate being around when I was growing up. He left the compound not long after Kurt bonded my mom, and I only saw him every now and then. Tate was always kind and generous to me, but always kept me at an arm’s length. I guess I was too young to read the tension between him and Kurt. But now, I’m justwondering how we got here. To the point they can hardly share a few words.
“I’ll work on it, hun,” he says softly. He goes to stand up, and I turn onto my other side.
“Kurt?”
“Yeah?”
“Would it be okay if I set up my own dates?” I ask, feeling bold. I’m not telling him who my planned dates are, but I can totally lie about it later.
He scratches his beard and looks down at me. “The last two dates were that bad?” he asks, his brow furrowing as he looks at me.
“Yeah, they really were.”
“We can try it your way, but I need to know the details. You’ve got to be safe,” he urges. I nod my head, but remember how un-fucking-safe I felt on the last two dates he set up for me.
“Alright then, feel better,” he says, leaving my room. I turn on my side, enjoying the small victory, which is shortly lived by another round of blinding pain.
I’m notsure how much time has passed, but I note that it’s dark in my room. I pick up my phone and groan as I see one am flash across the screen.
My stomach rolls, and it’s then a tap on the window catches my attention. It must have been what woke me up in the first place. I feel too gross and in pain to even get up and get it. I just groan, knowing that the window is unlocked. If it’s Axel, he’ll just let himself in.
The window opens and shuts softly; I clench my eyes tightly closed and breathe as the presence comes to sit by me on the bed. With their weight and scent, the person who snuck into my bedroom takes me by surprise.
I say nothing, just lying there as let his leather and earthy scent wash over me. It soothes the pain more than pain medication or a heating pad ever could. I’m not sure how to handle that realization, so I just continue to be silent and take whatever relief I can get.
