Taeja

8. Chapter 8

8

Gently closing the door behind him, Zain pulled his phone out while walking down the hallway. He found his brother’s number and dialed him.

“Damon Stark,” Damon answered after the third ring.

Zain stopped walking. “Today’s your day off, Damon.”

Damon exhaled a heavy breath. “You’re right. What’s up? Is our girl good?”

Zain’s jaw clenched as he remembered how the man — Jerry, was his name — spoke to Taeja. The man even dared to try calling her a whore. In Zain’s presence, of all places. Zain wanted to teach Jerry a lesson. And he would. Not today, but soon. “She’s not,” Zain answered.

“What happened?” Damon asked, his tone clipped.

“She got into some shit with her dad.”

“What? Where are you?” Damon sounded angrier than Zain felt.

“My house.”

“I’m coming over,” Damon replied, his tone one of urgency. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Without a word, Zain ended the call. He gritted his teeth, looking over his shoulder at the closed door. He could hear her loud sobs, even from down the hallway.

It’d been a while since they shared a girlfriend, so he was a bit rusty in the department. Last time, he had the privilege of offloading their girl onto Damon whenever the emotions became too much for him to handle, but he was trying to be different this time. Zain knew he couldn’t wait around for Damon to arrive. She was his girlfriend, too.

He was hurting because she was hurting. He was angry because she was angry. Whatever she was feeling, he was feeling times ten because he couldn’t take away her pain with a snap of a finger.

Sighing, Zain walked back toward the door. He sat on the ground beside it, then leaned his back on the wall. He stared at his phone for a few antagonizing seconds.

Was he about to do this?

Yes. He was.

Releasing a breath, Zain sent the first text.

Wanna talk?

This was what Damon had always done to him growing up. It worked, sometimes.

He waited in angst for her to reply. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He hadn’t felt this nervous in a long while. What was he supposed to say if she replied? ‘I’m sorry you had to go through that’? No. That wouldn’t suffice. He needed to say something more meaningful.

Remembering their conversation from earlier this morning, the fog drifted away from his mind.

Damon wouldn’t get her like he did. Damon wasn’t fucked up.

But he was.

Just like her.

A ping drifted through the hallway, and his eyes darted to his phone.

I’m sorry you had to see that.

Don’t apologize.

His brows furrowed while he waited for her to finish typing her response. He realized Taeja tended to apologize constantly, even over trivial stuff. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but he thought it was a bad habit.

I ruined your mom’s day.

You didn’t.

Well, my day ruin.

Mi father really kick mi out without so much as two drawz to mi name.

You can stay with us.

You don’t need them. You look better naked.

Behave.

We just met, and I’m a burden to you guys already.

You’re not a burden.

I am.

You can be our burden to carry.

Is that your attempt at a joke?

Depends. Did you smile?

Zain, I’m not going to feed your big ego.

Zain snickered.

This wasn’t as bad as it seemed… talking to someone, listening to them express their feelings. Now, he only hoped he didn’t ruin it. He tended to do that with these kinds of stuff.

He’d been closed off since he was a kid. And his time in the army made him colder. Most times, he didn’t mind it. Not feeling was better than reliving memories from his shitty childhood. But on rare occasions he allowed himself to feel something other than bitterness and anger, he realized emotions weren’t much of a bad thing at all.

Inhaling a breath, he sent a text and waited with a bated breath for her to answer.

Taeja didn’t answer.

But it didn’t drop his spirits because she opened the door.

His heart stilled when he saw her. He was sure he’d sound like his brother if he said this, but Zain had to admit it, anyway.

Taeja was beautiful.

Her eyes were watery, looking doe-like. Her lips looked fuller. She was at the highest peak of vulnerability, and he’d never been more attracted to a person.

But it wasn’t her outer beauty that had him feeling this way. No, it was her bravery that made her look this attractive. He’d never dared to make himself look this vulnerable around anyone. Ever.

But here she was.

Sitting across from him with nothing but the door separating them. Looking down at the folder in her hands and sighing heavily.

Finally, she broke the silence. “I haven’t seen my mom since I was eleven. Jerry says she’s not fit to be a parent. He was supposed to take care of me, but he didn’t. Nannies and private tutors raised me, and now he’s angry at me because I’m like this.”

Zain leaned his head against the wall. “That’s fucked up.”

Taeja chuckled sadly. “It is,” she admitted wiping a hand beneath her eyes. “I don’t know who Jerry wants me to be. I tried being what I thought was the perfect daughter, but that didn’t make him love me. I’m not proud of what I’m turning into, but he only gives me attention when I’m like this.”

“Like this?”

Taeja looked from the folder, her brows furrowing as her eyes met his. “What?”

“You keep saying like this .”

She returned her focus to the folder. “It’s nothing…”

If he was anything, Zain was an expert at reading people. It was clear Taeja was hiding something. But he couldn’t manipulate or torture it out of her.

In fact, it didn’t even cross his mind.

Taeja greatly confused him.

He looked away from her and at the vibrant painting hanging on the wall in front of him. He glared at it, making a mental reminder to throw it away. Adelaide had picked it out for him. Just like she picked out everything else in this house — down to the faux potted plants and polka dot welcome mat.

His focus was ripped from the painting when he sensed movement out of the corner of his eye. Snapping his head in that direction, he saw Damon taking long strides toward them.

Damon stopped before Taeja, stooping before her. He held her face in his hands and asked softly, “Are you okay?” he asked, and Taeja shook her head. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Taeja glanced at Zain before she looked at Damon. “Can you just hold me?”

Damon nodded, stood to his full height, then helped Taeja off the floor. They walked into the bedroom, with Damon throwing his brother a look before he closed the door behind them.

With the slam of the door, Zain’s shoulders slumped.

Fuck, he was messing up with her already. Taeja wanted to be held while he was there talking to her. Earlier, she probably wanted him to hold her too, but he’d stupidly listened when she said she needed space.

Zain sighed before standing. He went downstairs, pausing outside the door of his gym. It wasn’t big and fancy like Damon’s, but it was a great stress reliever.

He decided against working out. If it wasn’t Jerry’s face, he doubted he’d rid any of this tension.

So, he decided to head to cook. It was minutes after twelve now. Maybe Taeja was hungry after all she went through. He hoped she liked chicken tacos.

He went to his kitchen and cooked up a storm. Cooking was a hobby he picked up when he was younger. If Damon never sneaked and gave him treats Andrew made, Zain would’ve missed out on a lot of stuff. The hobby helped him a lot when he was in the army, traveling and being exposed to different cultures .

Minutes later, Damon strolled into the kitchen. Zain turned off the stove and gave his brother a pressing stare.

“She’s okay for now,” Damon said. “Did she tell you what exactly happened?”

Zain raised a brow. He thought that was what they were up there doing for the past thirty minutes. “She didn’t tell you?” he asked, and Damon shook his head. Zain looked away, unsure of what to say. Usually, they’d share everything about their girlfriend so they could keep her happy. But Taeja was a tricky case. He wasn’t sure if she’d like it if he shared something hard for her to talk about, so he gave a vague answer. “Some shit with her dad.”

“That had her crying in my arms until she finally fell asleep?”

Zain met his brother’s stare and held it for a few seconds. “Yeah.”

Knowing that look all too well, Damon looked from Zain to the pot. “I see… Well, I’ll wait until she wants to talk to me about it. Is it something I need to worry about?”

“Not right now.”

“Okay.” Damon walked toward the stove and licked his lips. Inhaling a deep waft of the mouthwatering aroma, he smiled. “Thank God one of us can cook.”

Zain rolled his eyes and pushed away Damon with his elbow. “Fuck off. This is for our girl.” He made sure to cook a lot. Most of the food he made this morning was gone, so he figured she was a big eater.

“You made enough to feed a horse,” Damon said, helping himself to four tacos. Then, he sat on a stool around the island. Flipping through pages of a cook book idling on the counter, he asked, “Did you have sex with her this morning?”

Zain froze. Images of Taeja naked and kneeling before him rushed to his mind, making his dick harden in his pants.

He liked that Taeja. The Taeja who, beneath all the sexual boldness and witty comebacks, was a woman eager to submit.

“No,” Zain said finally.

Damon paused bringing the taco to his mouth. His brow raised as he looked at Zain. “No? Then why’d you take that long to shower?” he asked, and Zain’s brows crinkled. Damon rolled his eyes. “You’ve been taking three-minute showers since you joined the army. That lie might have worked on Mom, but not me. Were you beating your dick or something?”

That was exactly what he’d been doing.

He visualized every memory he had of Taeja while stroking his dick with fervor.

How her tongue swirled around his tip. How warm her throat felt. How tight her pussy wrapped around his fingers. How sweet her moans were.

Zain shook his head to get rid of the memories. Now was a bad time to be thinking like this. He glared at Damon and changed the topic. “Mom walked in on us.”

Damon gasped. “No way.” He laughed as Zain’s face blanked. “I wish I could’ve seen the look on her face,” he said, and Zain scoffed. “You know she’s going to send us a bill, right?”

“ Us ? I’m the one she’s going to send it to,” Zain stated bitterly.

Their mother tended to send them a bill whenever she heard them having sex or stumbled in on the action. It happened a lot when they were in high school, but their mother never billed them or confronted them about it, minus the time she sat them down to have the safe sex talk Andrew had already given them.

It wasn’t that they didn’t respect her. Because they did. They just didn’t care to hide their sexual escapades.

“You’re Mr. Rich now, so I don’t know why you’re sulking,” Damon said.

“I’m not sulking. I just don’t get why I have to pay her when she’s the one who didn’t knock,” Zain countered.

“You know how our mother is…” Damon shrugged. “Anyway, I was thinking of asking Liza to buy clothes for our girl.”

Zain froze. Recovering quickly, he turned his back to Damon and forced down memories as he started to wash the utensils in the sink. “Liza?”

“Yes. They’re the same size.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“You’re probably right, but our girl’s going to complain if she has to wear a big shirt.”

Zain scoffed. “I’ll force her into it then. The fuck.”

Damon laughed while Zain dried his hands, then sat on the stool beside him. Damon placed the cookbook atop the pile of mail that Zain had on the island. “ You need to start checking your mail.”

“I check the mailbox every day.”

“You need to read them.”

Zain scowled at the letters. He’d developed a tendency to avoid reading them. He never wanted to stumble on one from a certain sender. “If it was important, they’d call.”

Damon scoffed, pushing aside the empty plate to sort through the stack. “The only call you’ll be getting is if one of these companies comes to your door to arrest you.”

Zain almost laughed. No one would ever come to his door to arrest him. The government would rather kill him than allow anyone to throw him in prison.

“Look at this one. It’s from the army—”

“What?” Zain snatched the letter from Damon’s hand. A bitterness settled in his mouth and all his scars ached.

There it was. The official seal of the army.

Before he could even think of what this letter meant, his phone rang. It was their mother.

Zain dropped the letter as if it had burned. Damon raised a brow, glancing between Zain and the letter. Zain pretended to not notice as he answered the call.

“Zain?” Kacian said.

“Yeah?” he answered.

Kacian sighed heavily. “I’ve told you countless times to say hello or something, so I know you’re on the other line.”

Zain had much to say, but he was incapable right now. The last thing he wanted was to be the target of his mother’s nagging. He had more pressing issues at hand…

Their girl’s well-being.

The letter that scorched his skin when he touched it, burning memories into the forefront of his mind.

Damon took the phone from Zain and put the phone on speaker. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hey,” Kacian said. “Is Taeja okay now?”

“Yes… ”

“Good,” Kacian said, her tone chirpier. “I can’t believe that man.”

Zain’s jaw clenched at the mention of Jerry. He saw too much of his own ‘father’ in that man.

How Jerry spoke to Taeja was exactly how Andrew spoke to him every day since he turned thirteen. That was an unforgettable year for him. Not only was it the year he found out he was not biologically a Stark, but it was the year his life started going downhill…

Zain’s fist clenched atop the island as his mind drifted from Andrew and back to Jerry.

They were in Taeja’s life now. And if he could help it, she would never feel belittled or shed tears of hurt again. He wasn’t sure how he’d do it when he was such a fuck up himself, but he’d do his best.

She deserved the best.

He glanced at his brother, then backtracked on his thought.

They all deserved the best.