Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Thursday, just before the final bell of the day rang, I got a text each from Brandon and from Prue.
Prue’s text was a warning not to come home.
Clay was there. The text from Brandon was an invite out to dinner.
I’d managed to avoid him at lunch both yesterday and today.
Thank goodness for baseball. He’d had a game yesterday or I probably would have gotten pestered to hang out with him then.
He didn’t have a game today, though. I should go out with him. I shouldn’t press my luck any further.
Memories of Mother hitting me with the rolling pin played in my mind.
Then the time she had punished me with the heel of her Valentino pump.
I still had scars from that on my lower back.
Then the memories of Clay pulling up the back of my school uniform’s skirt while he held me bent over Mother’s desk so that she could strike me with the fireplace poker across my butt and the backs of my thighs.
I’d missed school for a week after that punishment and had to sleep on my stomach until the pain of sitting didn’t make me vomit anymore.
I’d gotten a few hours of rebellion and freedom with Roe and his friends the other night. I’d gotten a break from Brandon for the past few days. It was time. I had to do what was expected of me.
The bell rang and something in me just shut down. I felt like I was on autopilot as I left class and made my way to my locker. When I made it there, my arms felt too heavy to lift to put in the combination and get my things.
I needed to go out with Brandon.
It didn’t matter how much I was dreading it.
What else was I going to do, anyway? I needed something to do for however long it took for Clay to give up and leave my house. The perfect excuse for not being there would be Brandon.
Fuck my life!
I could already predict how the night would go.
I’d have to push around my food at dinner, pretending to eat it.
Then he would try to convince me to go back to his place or mine.
He would touch me, kiss me, and try to push things further than I wanted.
Then I would have to stop him and possibly upset him.
No, it would undoubtedly upset him. Until I spread my legs for him, he wouldn’t be happy.
I was pretty sure Mother felt the same way.
It made me sick.
If I kept thinking about it, I would vomit.
I just wanted to run away.
Where will you go, Lottie?
With what money?
She will cut you off and hunt you down before you get far enough.
If my grandfather had liked me, I would have gone to him.
I had a feeling that he knew I wasn’t really my father’s daughter.
Since my father’s funeral, I had seen him once a year for the past twelve years, when he briefly visited town each summer.
To keep up appearances that we were a true and close family, Mother and I would be invited over for his annual extravagant dinner party he held for his friends and business acquaintances here in Summerhaven.
He’d normally only speak to Mother, but in a few instances, he had spoken to me in a curt and to-the-point manner.
Mostly to make sure I was doing everything that was expected of me to get into Brown.
A voice spoke behind me. “Are you all right?”
It was Roe.
I glanced over my shoulder for just a second. He stood there with his attention glued down at his phone. He was trying to look inconspicuous while talking to me and I appreciated it. The hall still had a lot of students that were making their way out.
His question made me realize that I had been standing there for a while just staring at my locker. “I was thinking about running away.” I intended to make my voice light to seem like I was joking, but it came out sounding drained and weak.
“Run away to my side of the bridge,” he offered, and I wanted nothing more than to do just that.
I let out a sigh and finally reached up to unlock my locker. “I can’t. I have to spend time with him.”
He was quiet as if processing what I’d said as I collected my things.
“Yes, you can. Make something up to get out of whatever he’s asking,” he finally said. “Then get in your car and follow me out of here.”
I dropped my head a little. There was so much risk. I was no longer numb and rebellious as I’d been a few days ago. I was back to being terrified.
“I’ll wait until you come out,” Roe said before walking away.
Broken bones. That was what I was risking if Mother found out. I didn’t want to think about how she’d murder me if Brandon found out.
Shit, I’m going to cry.
I looked up at the hall’s fluorescent lights and blinked a bunch. I was so tired and over everything. I slammed my locker closed, for once not caring what sort of attention it drew.
Getting angry was a lot better than feeling sorry for myself. It didn’t change my situation, but it gave me a little bit more strength.
Fuck it.
I pulled my phone out and sent a text to Brandon, explaining that I had plans with Clay, who was waiting at home for me, but maybe we could do something this weekend. Then I texted Prue to tell Clay that I wouldn’t be home because I was hanging out with Brandon.
I walked out of the school. As I headed for my G-Wagon, I scanned the parking lot for Roe. I found him pretty quickly. He was parked next to my car.
I paused for only a moment in front of his motorcycle. “Okay.” It was all I said before climbing into my vehicle.
Roe’s bike roared to life just as I got buckled. I glanced over to see him waiting for me. I quickly got my car going and followed him out of the parking lot.
Roe led me to a one-story brick house located deep within a large residential neighborhood on the south side of the bridge.
There was an old car in the driveway and Roe parked his motorcycle next to it.
I parked in the street by the curb directly in front of the house.
Before getting out, I took off my blazer and only bothered to bring my phone, wallet, and keys.
Roe was waiting for me just outside my car. He tilted his head toward the house. “This is my home.”
His house had tan bricks, brown roof shingles, and brown-framed windows. A stone path cut through the middle of the yard’s freshly mown grass to lead up to the front door. I could feel Roe’s eyes on me as I took it all in.
“Wyatt’s already home,” he said as he started heading up the stone path.
I followed. “Wyatt lives with you?”
Roe’s keys jingled as he unlocked the front door. “Yeah. His parents—” He trailed off as he opened it. He gestured for me to go in first. “It’s his story to tell.”
I nodded and walked in. Just inside and to the right was a living room.
An L-shaped, light charcoal couch and black leather recliner faced a big flat-screen TV on the wall.
Under the TV was a black console cabinet.
On the far right wall, where part of the couch was up against, there were two acoustic guitars hanging as well as black-and-white pictures of motorcycles and a metal Harley Davidson sign.
In the center of it all was a photo of a man on a parked motorcycle with a little boy sitting in front of him holding the handlebars.
I wondered if that was Roe and his father.
To the left of the front door was a long hallway.
Straight ahead I could see a dining room and part of the kitchen.
I could feel Roe watching me again.
I looked back at him. He had shut the front door and was just standing by it, still as a statue.
“Are you staring to see what I think?” I asked and glanced around again.
It was so different from what I was used to.
“It feels warm and comfortable.” The moment I said that, I realized I wasn’t exactly clear in my meaning and quickly added, “I’m not talking about the temperature. ”
“I understood what you meant,” he said.
“What do we have here?” a voice I knew belonged to Wyatt said.
I glanced toward the hallway. Wyatt was coming down it.
“There’s a beautiful joint thief in our living room.” He stopped walking just as he stepped out of the hall, his beautifully unique eyes fixed on me. If he knew Roe was standing by the front door, not more than five feet from him, he didn’t bother acknowledging him.
“She’s hanging out with us,” Roe said.
Wyatt still didn’t look in his friend’s direction. Instead, he grinned and reached for my hand. “I’ll give you the tour. We’ll start with my room first.”
Even though he had grabbed my hand and was pulling me toward the hall, I didn’t feel put off or in danger. Surprisingly, I smiled.
“I didn’t bring her over here to—” Roe started to say, but was cut off by the sound of a phone ringing. Wyatt and I were halfway down the hall when we heard Roe answer it, “What’s up, Dad?”