Chapter 4
FOUR
I wake up in the morning and forget everything that happened last night. I pull the blankets closer to my chin and close my eyes, taking a deep breath as I prepare myself for whatever hell my father has in store for me today.
The memory of Talon scooping me up from under the bleachers and bringing me to his house, bathing me in his bathtub, and wrapping his arms around me while I fall asleep is fresh in my mind. However, it feels more like a dream than anything else.
It isn't until I feel the weight of his thick, muscular arm wrapped around my waist and hear the soft heaviness of his sleeping breath that I realize it was more than a dream. My eyes widen, and my heart races faster. Not only is his arm wrapped around me, pinning my body against him, but I feel his dick rising as it presses against my back.
“Good morning,” Talon whispers in my ear, his voice still heavy with sleep.
“Morning,” I reply, smiling and eagerly biting my lip.
I've had a lot of fantasies that start just like this, but never in my wildest dreams did I think it could actually happen. I still can't believe I'm waking up in Talon Mitchell's bed. He could have any girl in the entire school here, but he chose me .
Before I can say anything else to him, he slides out of the bed, and I watch his back muscles tense and shift as he stretches. A familiar excitement rushes between my legs as I imagine him on top of me, my fingernails digging into his flesh. He turns around and catches me thinking about it, which makes my face turn a dark shade of red.
“How do you like your eggs?” It takes me a moment to realize it isn’t some cheesy pickup line, and he’s genuinely asking me how I prefer my eggs because I slept in his bed last night . With him. And now, we’re having breakfast together.
I've learned that dreams don't usually come true for me in this life, so all of this is bizarre. I'm just waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under me again. But until then, I'll enjoy every moment of this.
“It doesn't really matter to me,” I say, sitting up and covering myself with the blanket to fight off the morning chill.
“It matters to me,” Talon says with a sly smile. “How do you want them?”
I laugh and smile back. Ever since Mom died, nobody has actually cared about my preferences or what I think. It's refreshing to be with someone who does, even if it's something as simple as my breakfast order. “Scrambled with a little bit of cheese and pepper.”
He nods his head and walks toward the door. “Scrambled eggs with cheese coming right up.”
I go to the bathroom and do my morning wake-up routine, finding a spare toothbrush in one of Talon's drawers. I catch myself tousling my hair in the mirror to make sure it's perfectly placed. Since I lived with my dad, he was always very controlling about how I appeared to the outside. I couldn't wear makeup because it would make me look slutty. If I wore shorts or a skirt, he would tell me guys would get the wrong impression of me. If I wasn't in a full-length pair of pants covering every inch of my skin, I was basically begging for male attention. Whatever happened after the fact would be my fault.
I've gotten used to throwing my hair up in a ponytail and tossing on a sweater. Seeing my blond hair around my shoulders and the waves falling just around my face to frame it, I feel confident for the first time in ages.
When I'm done, I make my way back to the kitchen and take a seat at the table while Talon stands at the stove with bacon frying in one pan and eggs cooking in another.
Talon doesn't say anything to me, and my mind goes completely blank. Now that I'm here, what are we supposed to talk about? I really don't know much about sports, and I doubt he's read the latest Sarah J. Maas books. It really hits me that the two of us have nothing in common, and this fantasyland I'm living in could come crashing down at any moment.
I'm distracted from my internal spiraling when Sawyer walks into the kitchen, wearing a pair of green basketball shorts and nothing else.
“Mornin’, everyone!” he says in a chipper voice. I stare at him for a moment, offering a smile as I study his appearance a little more. His skin is normally a perfect sun-kissed tan that most people would kill for, but this morning, it’s slightly reddened and glistening with sweat. I figure he must have just gotten back from a workout. “And how’s our girl doing today?”
Once again, my skin turns red under their attention. It's hard for me to focus on anything but his perfectly chiseled chest and the veins pressing against his toned arms.
“I'm feeling much better today,” I barely manage to choke out as Talon turns away from the stove and puts a plate of eggs and bacon in front of me. Both he and Sawyer sit down with plates of their own shortly after, and I feel like I'm sitting in the center of a spotlight.
I can't stop focusing on Sawyer's chest, no matter how hard I try. I can feel myself getting flustered from both of them showing off their physiques so freely, and I squeeze my thighs a little tighter to give myself a momentary relief from the excitement.
Talon catches me shifting in my seat, and he smirks, cocking an eyebrow at me before taking a bite of his food.
“What time are we going to your place?” Sawyer asks, ignoring my glances while scarfing down his breakfast.
I'm too distracted to answer. Does Talon really not mind me ogling Sawyer this way? I didn't mean to, and I don't want to offend him in any way. Sawyer is a good-looking guy, and I've had my fleeting fantasies about him, but if I had to choose between them, I would choose Talon.
God, what am I even doing thinking about both of them this way? Just because I'm here doesn't mean I'm in some love triangle with them. They rescued me from my asshole of a father. That's it.
“I figure we'll head out after breakfast so we can make sure we get there when he's not expecting it,” Talon answers, looking at me for approval. I nod my head and bite into the food he made for me. “The last thing we want is a run-in with Mr. Wright. God knows I won't be able to hold back next time I see him.”
We finish our breakfast and pile into Talon's car to make the short drive to my house. Pembroke isn't a big town by any means, but it's large enough for a clear class division between the different parts of town. Even living on his own away from his family, Talon's house is in the upper-class side on the west, and the small duplex I share with my father is to the east.
I can't help but feel shame and embarrassment driving by the raggedy old cars and overgrown lawns with clothes hanging out to dry in the front yards. It's just another reminder of how different Talon and I really are.
I fish my key out of my pocket and unlock the front door for the three of us when we get to my house. Dad's car isn't in the driveway, so I assume he must be out looking for some quick contracts he can pick up to paint people's houses, or he was out all night on a bender and sleeping on a sidewalk somewhere. It wouldn't be the first time I've gotten a call from the local sheriff telling me to come pick him up from the curb outside of a bar.
In the past, I've been thankful he wasn't stupid enough to drive drunk at least. But now, having people from school recognize him as he sleeps one off outside is nothing shy of mortifying.
The three of us step inside and freeze by the front door. I always did my best to make sure the house was tidy, but it looks like a tornado ran through the living room. Pillows are tossed off couch, and the coffee table is upside down with the books and knickknacks on top broken and ripped on the floor.
“What the hell?” I whisper, looking between Talon and Sawyer with my heart beating rapidly in my chest. It looks like someone broke into the house and ravaged it.
“Stay behind me,” Talon says, immediately taking a defensive stance with his posture as he steps forward. Sawyer is right beside him, and the two of them walk through the house on high alert as if they expect someone to jump out from behind a corner.
Thankfully, the house is empty. There's no sign of my dad or any kind of robber or crazed lunatic. When we get to my room, it's obvious that nobody has broken in to steal anything. Everything in my room is ruined.
My clothes are yanked out of the closet and ripped down the center. The heavy scent of rum lingers in the air. I bend down to pick up one of my favorite sweaters—one that belonged to my mother and was one of the few things I had left of hers—to find it ruined.
Tears sting my eyes as I drop the shredded fabric on the floor and walk to my bookshelf. I didn't own many books, so my library card was my main source of new stories. The few that I have are ones I cherish. They’re copies I've read from cover to cover countless times, annotating my thoughts and feelings in the margins. I hold sentimental value to these stories because they've carried me through difficult times. Now, the pages are ripped, and Sharpie has been taken to the margins, scribbling out text and writing the words bitch and slut over them.
“This is seriously fucked up,” Sawyer says as he digs through the pile of clothes on the ground for any salvageable goods.
I can't help the tears that spill from my eyes. Talon approaches me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to bring me close to him. I practically collapse in his arms when I feel its safety net around me. “You don't deserve this.”
I try to say something back, but all I can manage to choke out are sobs at seeing everything I've known of my life destroyed at my feet. My laptop, which I need for school, is practically bent in half with a very clear fist mark on the screen. Sawyer digs through my drawers and closet and discovers that every article of clothing is ruined. We didn't have a lot of money, so a majority of my clothes were hand-me-downs from my mom's closet.
What hurts the most is seeing a framed picture of me with her on my bedside completely destroyed. As soon as I see the frame smashed and the picture shredded beside it, my knees give out, and I collapse to the ground, crawling over the wreckage of my life to grab the scraps of paper.
“Merrit, it's going to be okay,” Talon says as he sits across from me, reaching a hand to mine to try to comfort me. “Whatever you need, we’ll replace it. I'll get you a new laptop and a whole new wardrobe. What matters is you're out of this place now.”
I pick up every piece of the shredded picture and try to piece it back together on the ground, my tears staining the inside of my broken glasses. This is the only picture I have of my mom. My dad knows that too. He simply doesn't care.
Seeing that the picture will never be put back together again, I lose all control of myself. I had been trying to maintain some composure in front of Talon, but I can't pretend. My entire life was just ripped to pieces by the man who was supposed to love me and protect me no matter what. How could he do something like this to me?
How could he seriously blame me for what happened to my mom? I was a child.
Honestly, I don't know why I'm surprised. Ever since she died, he's always found a new low to sink to. He gets fired from a job? That's my fault. A woman he picked up at a bar and dated for two weeks dumps his ass? That's because no woman wants to date a man with baggage, and I'm nothing but baggage holding him down.
I hate him. I hate him more than anything in the world. He's taken my life and held it within his grasp, choking out any semblance of happiness for far too long. I'm done with him.
I'd be better off without him, and I know that without a shadow of a doubt. But nothing can compare to the pain of knowing that my own blood could do this to me. He's supposed to care about me. He is biologically programmed to love me and have my best interests in mind, and I have never seen that from him.
Talon's arms wrap around me again, and I sob into his chest for what feels like hours. My entire system is so shaken by everything I've seen that I hardly register him picking me up and carrying me out of the house.
I look back at it one last time, seeing as neither Talon nor Sawyer carry anything out with them, and I silently say goodbye to the hell I've been living in. I'll do anything to make sure I never have to come back here again.