Fear Me
Page 33
“Sheldon, come here!” Keenan’s voice boomed from somewhere out in the hallway.
She gave me one last look before leaving the bathroom with a terse ‘Fine’. Keiran motioned for me to follow him so I tossed the cloth into the bin and followed him to his bedroom.
“Are you taking me home soon?” He ignored me and picked my phone up from the large black dresser and tossed it to me. I took turns looking from the device to him.
“Your aunt called. Call her back and let her know that everything is fine.”
“Oh…right.” I dialed her number.
“Put it on speaker,” he ordered. I was careful not to show my aggravation and upset him. He could change his mind and my aunt would worry if I didn't call.
Her anxious voice filtered through the phone after the third ring. “Hey, Aunt Carissa.”
“Lake, thank God! How is everything?” She attempted to sound normal but I could hear the stress and fatigue, which was weird because she usually has fun on her tours.
“Everything is great here. How are you?”
“Oh you know, I’ve been signing books all day. Nothing major.”
Her answer only increased my worry. Aunt Carissa was usually full of excitement and everything dealing with her books and readers was major. She loved being a writer. “Are you sure? You sound tired.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Listen, I have to go but how was school?”
“School is school. I guess I will talk to you later,” I stated slowly with a frown and a heavy heart.
“Great. And Lake? I love you, sweetie.” The line went dead before I could respond in kind. I felt sick, despite her reassurance, remembering the last time I saw and spoke to my parents. Would Aunt Carissa leave me too?
“I should go home. Can you take me now?”
“We’re having a party. You should stick around.” He plucked my phone out of my hand and pocketed it. I didn’t like the sound of his invitation. It sounded more like the order I knew it to be.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I answered sarcastically. I would really rather go home.”
“I wasn’t asking. Do I explain this to you again? I don’t trust you. I’m keeping an eye on you. Simple as that.”
“It isn’t really about keeping an eye on me though, is it?” His body stiffened and I could tell I struck a nerve. Rather than scare me away it gave me the motivation I needed to push him. “What’s the matter? You can’t get it up unless you’re angry?” I circled around him the way he did me that day in the cafeteria over a year ago. I taunted and tested how far I could go. “Is that what you hide? Some sick, twisted fantasy? Tell me…is it special for me or is it all women? Mommy didn’t love you enough so you –”
The punishing hand around my jaw stopped me and once again my words were lost to me. He bent my body backward over his low dresser and leaned close. The coldness in his eyes could not be mistaken for anything but deep hatred.
“It’s only for you, never doubt that. No one else makes me feel this way. No one. It’s always been you. It will always be you.”
The subtle threat in his words sent a cold chill through my body. Up this close I could see the light stubble along his jaw, evidence that he didn’t shave this morning and I couldn’t help to think how incredibly sexy and masculine he looked with it.
“Is that supposed to scare me?” I sounded tougher than I was feeling but he didn’t have to know that.
“It already does.”
“Is that what you want to hear? That I am afraid of you? That I am still afraid of you? Yes, I am afraid but that is all I will ever feel for you. It is the need to survive. You can’t control me beyond that. Let me go.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not? I haven’t done anything and don’t plan to whether or not you choose to believe it, but it is the damn truth.” I searched his eyes for even a glimmer of belief but they remained unyielding. My back was beginning to shake from the strain of nearly being bent in half not to mention the effect his being close was having on me.
“Because I still hate you, Monroe. Never forget that.”
* * *
Sheldon and Keenan were already downstairs by the time we finally emerged from his bedroom. His last words were still echoing in my head. While I had accepted long ago that Keiran would always hate me it didn’t make hearing it each time any easier.
We found them in the kitchen pre-gaming and setting up for the party that I was being forced to attend. Who knew my first invite to a party would be by the one person who has kept me from them…even if he was forcing me.
The first thing I noticed entering the kitchen was the mysterious, black duffle bag that Keiran and Keenan was given, now laid open and filled with bottles of alcohol.
Well I'll be damned.
I couldn’t believe that they actually bought alcohol in an illegal, street sale. At least it wasn’t drugs. The thought didn’t make me feel better. Though, I always did wonder how high school kids found their supply of alcohol for parties. I just assumed they pilfered it from their parents, though it would be kind of hard to explain the missing alcohol.
I remember, last year, Michael Hastings parents divorced shortly after a huge party he threw. Apparently his father was an alcoholic and swore to quit drinking and one day his mother found empty bottles of alcohol hidden, not thrown away, in the house. She immediately blamed his father and filed for divorce. He’s been kind of a loner ever since. The guilt must be a bitch to deal with.
She gave me one last look before leaving the bathroom with a terse ‘Fine’. Keiran motioned for me to follow him so I tossed the cloth into the bin and followed him to his bedroom.
“Are you taking me home soon?” He ignored me and picked my phone up from the large black dresser and tossed it to me. I took turns looking from the device to him.
“Your aunt called. Call her back and let her know that everything is fine.”
“Oh…right.” I dialed her number.
“Put it on speaker,” he ordered. I was careful not to show my aggravation and upset him. He could change his mind and my aunt would worry if I didn't call.
Her anxious voice filtered through the phone after the third ring. “Hey, Aunt Carissa.”
“Lake, thank God! How is everything?” She attempted to sound normal but I could hear the stress and fatigue, which was weird because she usually has fun on her tours.
“Everything is great here. How are you?”
“Oh you know, I’ve been signing books all day. Nothing major.”
Her answer only increased my worry. Aunt Carissa was usually full of excitement and everything dealing with her books and readers was major. She loved being a writer. “Are you sure? You sound tired.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Listen, I have to go but how was school?”
“School is school. I guess I will talk to you later,” I stated slowly with a frown and a heavy heart.
“Great. And Lake? I love you, sweetie.” The line went dead before I could respond in kind. I felt sick, despite her reassurance, remembering the last time I saw and spoke to my parents. Would Aunt Carissa leave me too?
“I should go home. Can you take me now?”
“We’re having a party. You should stick around.” He plucked my phone out of my hand and pocketed it. I didn’t like the sound of his invitation. It sounded more like the order I knew it to be.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I answered sarcastically. I would really rather go home.”
“I wasn’t asking. Do I explain this to you again? I don’t trust you. I’m keeping an eye on you. Simple as that.”
“It isn’t really about keeping an eye on me though, is it?” His body stiffened and I could tell I struck a nerve. Rather than scare me away it gave me the motivation I needed to push him. “What’s the matter? You can’t get it up unless you’re angry?” I circled around him the way he did me that day in the cafeteria over a year ago. I taunted and tested how far I could go. “Is that what you hide? Some sick, twisted fantasy? Tell me…is it special for me or is it all women? Mommy didn’t love you enough so you –”
The punishing hand around my jaw stopped me and once again my words were lost to me. He bent my body backward over his low dresser and leaned close. The coldness in his eyes could not be mistaken for anything but deep hatred.
“It’s only for you, never doubt that. No one else makes me feel this way. No one. It’s always been you. It will always be you.”
The subtle threat in his words sent a cold chill through my body. Up this close I could see the light stubble along his jaw, evidence that he didn’t shave this morning and I couldn’t help to think how incredibly sexy and masculine he looked with it.
“Is that supposed to scare me?” I sounded tougher than I was feeling but he didn’t have to know that.
“It already does.”
“Is that what you want to hear? That I am afraid of you? That I am still afraid of you? Yes, I am afraid but that is all I will ever feel for you. It is the need to survive. You can’t control me beyond that. Let me go.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not? I haven’t done anything and don’t plan to whether or not you choose to believe it, but it is the damn truth.” I searched his eyes for even a glimmer of belief but they remained unyielding. My back was beginning to shake from the strain of nearly being bent in half not to mention the effect his being close was having on me.
“Because I still hate you, Monroe. Never forget that.”
* * *
Sheldon and Keenan were already downstairs by the time we finally emerged from his bedroom. His last words were still echoing in my head. While I had accepted long ago that Keiran would always hate me it didn’t make hearing it each time any easier.
We found them in the kitchen pre-gaming and setting up for the party that I was being forced to attend. Who knew my first invite to a party would be by the one person who has kept me from them…even if he was forcing me.
The first thing I noticed entering the kitchen was the mysterious, black duffle bag that Keiran and Keenan was given, now laid open and filled with bottles of alcohol.
Well I'll be damned.
I couldn’t believe that they actually bought alcohol in an illegal, street sale. At least it wasn’t drugs. The thought didn’t make me feel better. Though, I always did wonder how high school kids found their supply of alcohol for parties. I just assumed they pilfered it from their parents, though it would be kind of hard to explain the missing alcohol.
I remember, last year, Michael Hastings parents divorced shortly after a huge party he threw. Apparently his father was an alcoholic and swore to quit drinking and one day his mother found empty bottles of alcohol hidden, not thrown away, in the house. She immediately blamed his father and filed for divorce. He’s been kind of a loner ever since. The guilt must be a bitch to deal with.
