I skirt his car and move to get in quickly, inhaling heavily to calm my rattled nerves, I slide in and put on my belt while he stows my bags in the rear then comes to join me inside. He looks me over for a second, a hint of sheer bewilderment, before starting the car. The frown and the sudden silence I know only too well. He is mulling it over and I can’t tell what conclusion he has come to. I also know him that if he doesn’t like a subject, he drops it fast and moves on quickly. I already know that’s what he is about to do.
“To the Hamptons,” he finally states as he maneuvers us back into traffic, not really looking at me. He shifts in his seat to get comfy, adjusts his mirror and fiddles with a couple of dials on the stereo without looking my way. Fidgeting is something he does rarely. Okay, never, and it only super sensitizes my already frayed nerves. That bite of anxiety and I take a long, slow, deep inhale to calm myself. I hate that these l
Cynthia, my mom, hugs me like we have been parted for years, squeezing the absolute life out of me as tears wash down her pretty face. I hug her back awkwardly, a little stiff in her hold, but deep down somewhere inside of me is, a tug of genuine joy. We’re in the immaculate, beautiful hall of our home in The Hamptons, a place that used to be seem a fairytale castle to me so long ago. The home and family of my dreams and it had taken an age to accept it as real.All my bags are sat by the stair as Arrick lingers behind, giving us the space to reacquaint now he has delivered my little homecoming speech on my behalf to tearful parents. He’s been my mature and loyal protector once more, doing the hard things, so I don’t have to.A
“Shut up and listen to me.” He pulls me the last stretch of stair and into the familiar room I spent the past few years growing up in. All pink, white, soft, and frilly. Everything still as it was, as though I never left. My room looks like my parents have preserved it as such from the day I walked out. My taste in décor has never grown from childish and cute; stuffed animals litter my bed, and shelves are filled with teen romance books and trinkets. Arrick has seen this room a million times and pulls me to my silver-gray chaise longue in front of the huge window, evicting fluffy pillows and blankets as he plonks me down harshly.“I didn’t get you home so you could up and run again. Stop being selfish, Sophs. For on
“Neither of them was raped and beaten by their father for fourteen years while their mother turned a blind eye.” The harsh biting tone that evicts the words from my mouth lands heavily between us. Lashing out viciously because of how raw the pain is making me, how his admission he’s leaving me has hit my heart like a blunt dagger. He stiffens at my words but catches himself and sighs.Arrick smooths a finger down my cheek as a stray tear manages to escape without permission, ignoring my outburst as something I do when I’m in pain, because he’s seen it all before. I bite down on my bottom lip, trying hard to curb the urge to push him away. I don’t want his hands on me if all he is going to do is let me down again.“Don’t let that bastard take your life
“You up and left me for some big city life and a girlfriend who doesn’t want me hanging out with you. You left me! So I found my own way, and now because you don’t like it you think I should stop.” I smart, biting hard, sounding every bit the catty bitch I have become over the past months. “See, the funny thing is, you want me to go back to being your little sidekick, but you’re not even going to stick around more than forty-eight hours to even see that I make it. Doesn’t sound like you really have any intention of seeing me through anything.” I throw my shoes off into the open walk-in closet, rifle through the display of shoes distractedly, and pull out some high black stilettos, studded with mini spikes from two seasons ago that will work with this top. Trying to keep my cool so very painfully, I slide them on my feet then haul out a matching belt and sling it around my low-rise jeans. Glam rock, to suit my ‘piss off, I fucking
I’ve mulled around my room for the last few hours, sitting on my bed and sewing embellishments to a pair of jeans I’ve revamped into a new short denim skirt, trying hard not to get frustrated with the feelings inside. Partly to amuse myself and partly to piss Arrick off after leaving my other one in Amber’s apartment. That childish part always has to win in some way. Too defiant for my own good.I used to do this sort of stuff when I was bored; customize my clothes and jazz up anything I felt needed it. It has a way of focusing my mind as I watch the small stitches neatly form wherever I work my needle. I forgot how much I missed this.My sewing box is laid on the bed beside me, my box of assorted trim scattered in front of me and the mess of cut denim and scraps trailing off to one side as the housekeeper finishes unpacking what’s left of my luggage and removes herself with items for the laundry. She smiles my way with a warm affectionate look,
This whole conversation just puts a sour taste in my mouth. Still too pissed with Arrick to do the whole cozy heart-to-heart with my mom, and too many raw topics I’ve never gone through with her trying to be forced out. Even though I know I should be groveling, making amends for acting like a spoiled psycho brat months ago and running out on her, I just need some cooling off time to simmer, and some space to get a handle on my brain and heart if she really wants me to do this with her.It’s too much, building in epic proportions, like I’m going to explode. For my own sanity, and for my mother’s sake, I need to get out of here and calm down. I can’t let my defensive, snooty, catty, explosive side loose and make this a thousand times worse on the woman who only ever means well. She is the perfect example of a mom, of what a mother should be and how one should love her child, and I never deserved her in any way, shape, or form. She means everything
“Have you been to see Emma yet? She’ll be over the moon to see you; feels like it’s been years.” He moves back to lean his butt against his car, hands pushed in his pockets as he regards me seriously with that hotshot twinkle in his eye and that infuriating Carrero half smile that brings out the dimples. Family feature.“Umm, nope. I was thinking about maybe popping in later if she’s going to be around.” I answer evasively, non-committedly. I’m not sure if I’m ready to face this one particular person just yet.Emma and I have history, a special relationship, and I’m truly terrified about how exactly she is going to react at finally seeing me again. I have dodged her calls and emails for weeks, maybe months, and I know I’ve been putting this off. My stomach churns with nerves, an image of her beautiful soft blue eyes and pretty face in my mind’s eye. Emma is one of the few people who can reduce me t
I plod to the door and go to walk in without hesitation. Jake, close on my heels, tugs me back by my ponytail, so he can jump in front of me with a chuckle, and meets another rain of light slaps on his arm as I try to muscle him out of the way. We have carried on this way ever since I got used to the force that is Jacob Carrero, and months away have changed nothing. He is still a massive annoying douchebag that reminds me of every one of my four adopted big brothers, only more irritating and less mature than any one of them at any given time.“Bambinos, I’m home.” Jake yells out and muscles me under his arm to squeeze my face into his armpit and ribcage so that I am almost suffocating on whatever body spray he uses and fight him with little effect. He drags me through the marble hallway as the small squeals of young children flood this way; small feet and excited fa