Braeden threads his fingers through my arm and grabs my biceps when my mother answers the door. She looks older than when I’d seen her over Christmas, almost a year ago.
Her hair is still frosted blond, and her eyes are green like mine. She’s always been a beautiful woman. She still is at sixty-five. Too bad she’s ugly on the inside.
“Well, you’re actually here. Surprising.” Before I can get defensive, she smiles brightly. “And you must be Braeden. It’s so nice to meet you, sweetheart.”
“Hello.”
“Come in. Come in.”
Her putting on her charms is hardly surprising. Everyone who meets her likes her.
We step inside to memories from hell. Every corner of the home brings them all back like a sledgehammer, and my anxiety skyrockets. But one thing I’m good at is blocking out the noise long enough to get through whatever I need to. Later on, I’ll find somethingto distract me and bring me happiness until I feel better, since sex is currently off the table.
For the rest of the day, we have lunch and talk. Mostly, Mom does the talking about herself and how great a mother she was to me. Braeden sat quietly and only answered questions when asked. He clung to me the entire time, not letting me go, which was a sure sign he was stressed.
At least she wasn’t entirely an asshole, so I came away from that rather unscathed, except for being home again. I never want to step into that house again, if I can help it. I can’t believe it’s been fifteen years since I’ve been here. It’s… suffocating.
It’s just after four in the afternoon, so Braeden and I decide to drive the five hours back home. I’m eager to get back, too. I need to check in on Seth.
My eyes are focused on the road, and both hands are on the wheel as I drive through Houston. You have to pay full attention around here. They drive like fucking maniacs.
“I don’t like her,” he says out of the blue. “Sorry.”
First, I snort a laugh. Then, all of a sudden, I’m in a fit of laughter. I’m laughing so much that even Braeden cracks a smile. It’s not even that funny, but I’m in a weird mood. “It’s okay, kiddo. I don’t like her that much myself.”
His dislike of her shows his level of emotional intelligence. I can’t wait for the day he feels better and opens up to me. I bet he’s an interesting kid.
Chapter 18
Seth
“Seth,honey,pleasepresscharges,” Mom says on the phone. I’ve asked my dad and her to watch the kids for a bit longer since my throat is still pretty bruised. I don’t want them to see it. Makeup helps cover it up, but it doesn’t last forever. I need more time, despite how much I miss them. Thank god for amazing parents.
“I don’t want to take him away from his son, Mom.”
“At least go to therapy. Please.”
“That’s the plan. I need to come to terms with this.”
She sniffles, but I know she’s trying to keep it under control. When I told my parents what went down, they were appalled and afraid for me. It took a lot of reassurance from me to calm them down. Weird, considering I’m the one freaking out. In hindsight, maybe I shouldn’t have told them. What purpose did it serve, other than having someone else to talk to about this beyond Calvin? Now, they’re stressed out.
Calvin.
I’d never seen him angry in the short time that I’ve known him. Is he intense? Yes. Is he a snarky butthead? Definitely. Sure, we’ve become friends, but I didn’t expect him to want to protect or defend me. The way he looked like he was ready to kill someone while on the phone had my heart beating harder for him. My attraction toward Calvin skyrocketed after that short phone call. I can’t want him, especially after whathappened. It will look like I’m leaning on him as a rebound or something. That’s the last thing I want.
“Seth? Are you still there?”
“Sorry, Mom. What?”
“I was saying that I understand you want to protect his son, but what if that… man hurts someone else?”
“I don’t think he will. He was terrified by what happened. He didn’t mean to.” At least I don’t think he did, but I don’t tell her that. “I promise I’ll be fine.”
And I will be. That’s not a lie. Regardless, I’m still rattled by it all. It doesn’t help that my throat still kills.
“I trust you, honey, but please don’t see him again.”
“No way I’ll see him again. So, how are the kids?” I ask to change the subject.
