“Mr. Xenakis, I can’t live here anymore,” I whispered. Everyone had an opinion on what I should be doing, but no one wanted to help. It made me want to scream. Everyone just thought I should put up with everything Dad dished out. Really, I knew they didn’t know the whole story, but what was the alternative? What if he did get arrested? Would someone finally help then, or would I just be thrown under the bus for not being here?
“Next time, I maybe call,” he said, nodding his head.
“You do that,” I bit out.
He straightened, perhaps surprised, but I couldn’t take any more of this. My eyes felt too hot and everything went watery for a moment as I blinked fast on my way back into the brightness of the house. I stomped inside, closed the door, and stared around at the filthy floor. Sighing, I went to get the broom from the closet. There were crumbs and trash everywhere because Dad didn’t do anything at all when I wasn’t here. While I swept up the mess, thoughts raced around in my head… about… Casey Uhlig, CEO and apparently a guy whocouldapologize.
Unease slithered through me along with a strangely scary interest. Casey hadapologizedto me today, gone out of his way to do it. There was no way he could know how bizarre the idea of receiving an “I’m sorry” was in my life, or how much it meant to me to get one. I knew the fact that he’d needed to track me down to be all regretful and stuff wasn’t okay—it was very, very bad—but I still couldn’t get over the fact that he’d done it.
And while I still thought he was kind of scary—up close his wide shoulders and height had made me feel even smaller than I usually did—I could appreciate the handsome angles of his harsh face and his self-deprecating smile. His hands were huge, and the fists they could ball themselves into would be like rocks if he hit me, but… would he ever use them on me? He’d yelled, and that didn’t bother me as much as it should. In fact, even though his off the charts anger had scared the shit out of me, it was strangely comforting.
It was familiar.
I knew I was fucked up.
No one needed to tell me my head was a mess.
Hell, I’d even read a couple of books on toxic families, and they all said that people who had been…. I sucked in a deep breath and bent to pick up a lighter from the floor that I didn’t want to go into the dirt pile. The books said that people who had beenabusedtended to gravitate toward similar people when they dated. They all told survivors they would want assholes just like the person who hurt them, but none of the books I’d read had any tips on how to avoid that unhappy ending.
Casey was scary and his apology made him attractive, but was that what I was doing? Going for someone just like dear old Dad?
Shaking my head at myself, I shivered at the horrifying idea of Casey with control over me like my dad had as I popped the plastic dustpan off the broom and bent to sweep the pile onto it. I wasn’t stupid. He’d acted like he was interested in me—date interested—and maybe that was even why he came to apologize. His attention had me scared and excited all at once.
No one had ever come on to me like that. Normally I didn’t allow it. If someone started getting too close, I always found myself backing off. More often than not, men scared me eventually because they did things like say something they thought was funny but was only rude, or they would be too loud.
But he hadn’t given me much of a choice, except to say yes.
And he’d decided we were going out tonight. He’d decided it was okay to track me down. He’d decided I should be okay with him in my personal space after he’d been terrible. And I hated that.
I loved it, too, because it meant I couldn’t run. And I hated it because it meantI couldn’t run. I had no idea how to feel about the maybe-date I was going on, other than being happy and confused and scared and worried and a thousand other things.
As I stood and walked over to the garbage can near the stove, I frowned at myself and then tipped the dirt in. I’d more or less invited him back to my place later. That was as good as offering my ass, right? What would he think if he got me naked? Closing my eyes, I took a deep, steadying breath. I wasn’t sure how I felt about sex with him, but I’d spent an hour after he left jerking off under my blankets to the idea of him holding me and telling me he was sorry for scaring me. I’d blown my load three times.
Three.
Times.
My balls were a little sore.
I knew that was fucked up, too.
I knew that was weird.
But it had feltso good.
He seemed nice when he wasn’t yelling, and I’d had a minute to get used to the idea of a man his size in my space. The apology had been enough for me to think about what it might be like to have someone that strong on my side, rather than being scared of what he could do to me, and that had been an interesting fantasy I couldn’t quite shake.
How nice would it be to have someone like Casey standing between me and the world? I glanced toward Dad’s bedroom and felt stupid. No one else would ever want to deal with this mess. Casey might like me, and he might even want to fuck me, but the things that happened in this house would always be my problem because no one else would want to put up with it.
I finished sweeping the rest of the room while I thought about the additional fact that dating the man who ran the company that paid me might be extra stupid, though I couldn’t bring myself to care too much. It took two more trips to the garbage can with trash and debris to finish. When I got over to the front of the room where the busted out window was, however that had come about, I picked up chunks of glass and just took them straight out to the curb. Thank fuck, Mr. Xenakis was nowhere to be seen.
When I came back inside, Dad was in his wheelchair next to the couch dressed in jeans and a ratty old blue Southeast New Gothenburg High sweatshirt with a knight on the front. His metal cane rested across his knees, so he must have been planning on coming out and sitting down to watch TV. My first impulse was to offer to help him get situated, but I didn’t want to be yelled at again. I went and stood next to him, hoping he would get the hint.
He rested his hands on his cane and squeezed until his knuckles were white. “Do you have any money I can have?” He glanced up and jerked his head to toss his shaggy damp hair out of his eyes. His blond strands were dark from water and I couldn’t wait until they dried. Right now, he looked far too much like I did.
Frowning until my lips ached, I made myself relax a bit. It was neverborrowwith Dad when it came to money, just have, but he was my father. I wouldn’t have asked for any money I gave him back anyway. My fingers twitched to reach for my wallet. Instead, I asked, “What happened to your disability money? It’s the beginning of the month. Didn’t you just get it deposited?”
He cracked the cane on the arms of his chair. “I don’t need to answer your fucking questions.”
