Chapter Thirteen
James
We keep up our routine for the next couple of weeks.
Colton and I talk every night. I see him in class two days a week.
He sorts out my days and makes me lunch, sticking little notes in each and every one—telling me how proud he is of me, how good I am.
I fold them all and stuff them away, unable to part with them.
I do everything on his lists, feeling better about myself for making him proud. I’ve found something special to do for myself each week as well. Nothing big, but still, it’s something for me.
When I was a kid, I loved swimming. I used to dream about having a pool—or friends with a pool who would invite me over—or joining the swim team in high school, but those weren’t the kind of things that happened for me.
I used to go watch the swim meets, though, and like on my walks, pretend I was out there. That I’d bring home a gold medal.
We have both an indoor and an outdoor pool at my apartment complex, and I don’t remember the last time I went swimming.
It’s what I chose for my activity the second week.
I swam laps for close to an hour. The next week, I had to choose something different for my activity, so I listened to one of my favorite records, but I also went swimming again.
I hadn’t thought it was a big deal, but Sir had made me come twice that night because of it.
It made him proud in this way that shouldn’t feel like someone is handing me my very own star, but everything with Sir seems to make me feel that way.
And speaking of orgasms, those have been plentiful as well.
We keep them to video calls the way we should, though he often gets me off by telling me things he would do to me at school…
in my office…in a classroom. I’m ashamed of how much that turns me on, so I try not to think about it.
He teases me about making me go to work plugged or in a cock cage, but he hasn’t made me do that either.
Apparently, Sir is the king of edging, and he wants to make me suffer.
It’s Friday today, and I didn’t go to campus, instead opting to work from home.
The basketball I got Nash is on the bench by the door, and as far as I know, he hasn’t used it once since I got it for him.
Sir says I need to give him time, and I know he’s right, but it makes me feel like a failure.
Some days I wonder if I’m any better than Sandra.
When our caseworker visited last night, she seemed satisfied, though, and the kids, despite not being happy with me, must’ve told her they’re happy here, so I take that as a good sign.
The door opens, and I look up from where I’m sitting at the island with my laptop to see Sadie walk in first. Her face is red, and she runs past me, down the hallway and to their room, slamming the door behind her.
“What happened?” I shove off the chair, heart in my throat.
“None of your fucking business,” Nash curses, heading her way.
“Yes, it is my business.” I catch up with him, reach for his wrist and stop him. “What happened?” I’m choking on nerves, trying to bite them down, counting backward in my head five, four, three, two, one…to settle myself.
“I have it under control. I’m the one who’s helped her through everything her whole life because you weren’t there, remember? I’ll fix it.”
I jerk my hand away. “I wasn’t there because I didn’t know. Are you going to hold that against me forever?”
“Yes.”
He heads for the room, and I linger there for a few seconds before following. He can hate me all he wants, but Sadie is coming around, and she’s hurting. I’m not going to let her hurt because he can’t forgive me.
I open the door just as Nash sits on the bed with her. He has his back to me and doesn’t seem to know I came in or has decided to ignore me.
“What happened, Sades?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says, head in her arms, lying on her stomach.
Nash rubs her back, trying to soothe her.
He’s a lot of things, especially with me, but I’m not sure there’s a brother in this world who loves his sister as much as he does.
My heart pinches at the thought, the longing there growing.
“Come on. You can always talk to me. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong,” he tells her. As angry as he makes me, as hurt as I am by him, my heart breaks for Nash too. There’s nothing he wouldn’t try to fix for her if he could.
Sadie rolls to her side, her face streaked with tears. Her gaze catches on me, then shoots back to Nash.
My gut tightens, nausea rolling around in there.
“I can go, if you’d like. It’s okay if you only feel comfortable speaking with Nash, but I’d like to help too, if I can.
We’re…family.” There was no one there to take care of me.
I spent most of their lives not taking care of them either, but I’m trying now.
“You can stay,” she says softly, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her legs.
Nash scowls at me.
“Some girls at school were making fun of my hair because I don’t know how to do it.” She doesn’t look at either of us, instead staring at her bed as if she can’t bring her eyes to look anywhere else. “They were being mean, is all. It’s fine.”
“I’ll call the school,” I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket. “What are their names?”
“No!” Sadie shouts, panicked. “You can’t do that. It’ll only make it worse!”
“Fuck them. Who cares what they think?” Nash says.
But it’s not always that easy to ignore bullying. I know from experience. Maybe Nash is better at it than I’d been or maybe he’s never had to deal with it.
“Kids can be mean.” I slowly make my way into the room. “I was relentlessly bullied when I was younger, and Sandra…she didn’t do anything about it. I don’t want to do the same with you.” I stop beside the bed, watching them.
“You were bullied too?” Sadie asks.
“I was. For being poor, for not having nice clothes, for not always being as clean as I should have been. And as I got older because I’m…different.”
“Different how?” Sadie asks. Nash watches me but doesn’t speak.
“I just…can get a little obsessive about things. I was quiet. I never broke any rules. I always had to have my pencils set a certain way on my desk, and they would come by and knock them down or make them crooked and then tease me as I tried to fix it.” My breathing is getting heavier, my chest tightening, but I do my best to push through.
“I don’t want you to have to deal with that. ”
“Please don’t call the school, James. It’ll be okay. It’s not like I haven’t dealt with it before. I won’t ever tell you anything again if you call them.” She tightens her hold on her legs, then looks down again.
“Okay, I won’t, but only if you promise to tell me if it happens again. I’ll make sure they deal with it without it coming down on you. Do you promise?”
Sadie nods.
“We can practice braiding again.” Nash fingers her hair, making me realize this is another way I’ve let her down—another way I’ve let them both down. I’ve seen him wash her hair and know they’ve worked on it together, but how have I tried to help? All I did was buy some good leave-in conditioner.
“I’ll call some salons and get you an appointment.”
Her gaze shoots to me, her eyes wide and glassy. “Really?”
Her excitement makes my heart break. I should have done this earlier. Someone should have done this in her life. Even more importantly, Sandra should have taken the time to learn how, and to teach Sadie.
“Yes, absolutely.”
“Thank you.”
I freeze when she pushes off the bed and wraps her little arms around my waist, hugging me. She smells like strawberries, and I wonder if that’s the scent of the conditioner I bought. Her hold on me tightens, but I’m not sure what to do, so I just pat her back in this awkward way I’m ashamed of.
“Of course. I’m your brother. I want to help.”
When my gaze catches Nash’s, I see his glare, see the anger, and…is there hurt mixed in too?
“Thank you,” she says again, before sitting back down and taking Nash’s hand. He tries to cover his frustration with me, smiling at her.
“That’ll be fun—getting your hair done,” he tells her.
“I can’t wait!” She beams.
Feeling oddly out of place and unsure what to do or say, I add, “I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll research some places tonight.”
Sadie says bye, and Nash ignores me altogether. I feel antsy, so I change clothes and go to the pool to swim some laps. Each stroke takes some of the tension from my body, gives me something to focus on and relaxes me.
When I’m done, I make dinner and we eat together—Nash silent all the way through. It’s not until Sadie goes into the bathroom to shower that he speaks to me. “Don’t try to take her away from me. I was there her whole life, and now you’re going to come in and try to steal her from me!”
“What? No. I’m not—”
“Yes you are. Just…don’t. She’s all I have, do you hear me? She’s all I have.”
“I would never.”
“Don’t let her down either. You made that promise, you better keep it.”
Without another word, Nash disappears down the hallway, leaving me standing there, trying to figure out what happened.
*
“How was your day?” Sir asks over video call. I’d just crawled into bed. Normally, I’m earlier than this, sitting here waiting for him.
“I don’t even know how to answer that,” I reply, and he frowns.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sadie came home crying after school. Some kids were mean to her because of her hair.”
“What’s wrong with her hair?”
“Nothing. She has beautiful curls. It’s really thick and long.
She’s got a lot of it. We don’t really know how to do it, but that’s no reason to make fun of her.
” And by we, I guess I mean Nash because I haven’t even tried, have I?
At least he’s attempted to help her. “I’ve been searching for a salon, but I think I need someone who knows curls well, and I’m completely out of my element with this.
Not to mention, Nash still hates me, and he accused me of trying to take Sadie away from him.
I’m making a mess of this already.” I let out a deep breath, surprised I shared all that with him.
He grins.
“What is there to smile about?”
“You told me all that and I didn’t even have to threaten to take away your orgasms or remind you to be honest.”
True. And weird. And something else I don’t want to dissect.
“Let’s handle this one thing at a time. First, Sadie’s hair. I’m probably not the best one to ask here either, but I agree with finding someone who knows curls.”
“She’s biracial. Her dad was Black. Maybe I should find a Black salon… I wonder if there are classes to teach me how to do it. I watched some videos and—”
“I might be able to help with this,” Sir replies.
“I thought you didn’t know how to do hair?” I tease.
He snickers. “I don’t, but Hannah is Black, and I know she would be willing to help. But also, her girlfriend, Tasha, is Black and a stylist and the owner of a salon.”
“Hannah has a girlfriend?” I ask, then silently curse myself. That’s not what I should be concerned about right now—or ever. While he talks about Hannah often, he’s never mentioned Tasha. Because he’s in love with Tasha’s girlfriend, perhaps?
“Yeah. I never mentioned her? She’s great. She and Han will do whatever they can. I know it.”
The tension in my chest loosens. I don’t want to let Sadie down. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Of course. That’s what I’m here for. As far as Nash goes, as I said before, he doesn’t hate you, but he’s scared, hurt, and fifteen. He doesn’t know how to respond. All you can do is show him you care—for Sadie and for him. It’ll take some time. He knows you don’t want to take her away from him.”
I’m not so sure he does, but I don’t argue with Sir about it. “I went swimming today. When I was stressed out after my conversations with Sadie and Nash, I went swimming, and that helped.”
His grin spreads wide at that. It’s wild to me that he can be so happy, so proud over something so small done by a random guy he dominates and makes come. It’s not like we’re more to each other, and we never can be.
“That’s very, very good. You’ve made your Sir very proud. I’ll have to bring you a reward the next time I see you.”
“What is it?” I find myself asking.
“I’m not telling. It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t do surprises.” Or maybe it’s really that no one has ever done surprises for me. I’ve never let anyone close enough for that.
“Well, you’ll do one for your Sir, won’t you? Because it would make me happy, and you want to make me happy.”
I do, and it’s incredibly frustrating. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy. I’m not going to make you come tonight, though. We’ll save that for another day. Is there anything else you need from me?”
I’m disappointed our call is being cut short today, but no, there’s nothing else I need from him. I just…wanted to talk to him. “No, Sir.”
“I’m going to make another phone call, then. I’ll send you a text after I talk to Han and Tasha.”
“Okay. Thank you for that. I appreciate…” You. Everything. “This…and the other stuff.”
“I know.” He smiles cockily. “That’s what I’m here for, dreamer.”
Dreamer. There goes that nickname again. I still haven’t decided what I think about it. “Good night, Sir.”
“Good night, James.”