Текст книги "Falling Away"

Автор книги: Penelope Douglas

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

My eyes were closed, but I was sure I looked as if I was in pain.

“Jax, damn,” I groaned. “What are you doing?”

It was like a goddamn roller-coaster ride of sensation every place his lips touched. How can anyone feel butterflies on her neck? In her mouth? On her cheeks?

His hands groped my ass, bringing me in rough and hard against him, grinding for more, and I even loved how the fabric of his shorts dug into my inner thighs. Jesus, I was so hungry. Sucking his tongue as hard as I could, I let go and snatched his bottom lip between my teeth, biting down.

“Shit.” He pulled back, dropping me to my feet and bringing his fingers to his lip where I bit.

I dug my nails into my bare legs, the agony of his loss scaring me. I hadn’t meant to bite him that hard. But I played it off.

“I told you you were going to take your fucking hands off me,” I taunted him.

He pulled his fingers away from his mouth to inspect them, and I think he saw blood, because he yanked me by the arm, pulling me away from the car door.

“No, I’m not,” he challenged. “Biting? You just kicked me into sixth gear. Get in the fucking car,” he growled, swinging it open and pushing me toward it.

I clenched my teeth to keep the smile at bay. Climbing in, I scurried over the console, out of Jax’s way, when I saw that he was following me in the same side.

I swallowed the dryness from my mouth, and I waited, feeling a need I’d never felt. Not even with Liam.

He slammed the door and looked over at me as if he wanted to beat me up or something.

But he didn’t.

Grabbing me under the arms, he hauled me over onto his lap so that I straddled him. Taking my hand, he lowered it to his groin and panted into my lips. “Bite me, hit me, scream at me. I don’t care. I want to feel it. Fucking hurt me, K.C. Let me see you.”

And then he grabbed the back of my neck and brought my lips to his, immediately pushing his sweet tongue into my mouth and running his hands up my thighs under my skirt.

“Jax,” I panted, moving back and forth, in and out, meeting his lips and pushing back. “I love how you feel.”

I wanted this. I always wanted this. He was a carnival ride under my fucking skin, and there wasn’t one inch of him I didn’t want to taste.

Holding one side of his smooth face, I let my mind and my body slip into his warmth, and I forgot everything.

Just kiss him. That was all I heard—all my brain told me—as if it were just him and me in the world.

He held my ass in both of his hands, and I pulled my mouth away and looked down at him.

Placing my palms on his shoulders, I rubbed myself against him, really slow but really fucking hard, so I could feel every inch of him from the top of my clit to my entrance.

“Christ.” He bared his teeth, looking up at me, our lips an inch apart. “I knew you were this beautiful.”

Grasping my ass, his shoulders flexed under my hands as he pulled me into him and rolled his hips into mine.

Reaching back, I tried to pull his hands off my thong-clad ass. I couldn’t let this go too far, but there was no way I wanted it to stop, either. I felt I should at least try, even though my effort was pathetic.

I just knew that it should stop. Sooner or later we were going to get to the point of no return, and the more his hands touched all the places he shouldn’t, the more I wouldn’t want it to end.

Touching his mouth with mine, I whispered, pleading, “I have to feel you, Jax. I need more,” rolling my hips into his faster, again, again, and again. “More, Jax. Please,” I moaned, loving the friction on my clit.

He reached down, and I heard a zipper, feeling my heart picking up pace, knowing that I was going to get closer. Shifting underneath me, he slid his shorts down just a little, grabbed my ass, dug his fingers in, and pressed me hard into his warm cock.

My underwear. The only thing separating me from him. The only thing keeping us apart.

“Jax,” I whimpered, the heat flooding my pussy making me wet. “Oh, my God.”

I swallowed again and again, the pleasure of him right there making me a mess of nerves.

“We have to stay on top of the clothes, okay?” I started dry-fucking him, loving what I was feeling but scared by it, too.

His head fell back against the seat, and he closed his eyes. “I don’t care. Just don’t stop touching me.”

As if I wanted to stop! He loved what I was doing, and his ragged breathing, his muscles flexing under me, the sweat on his neck as we panted and moaned in the thick air of the humid car—I loved it, and I wanted to cry he felt so good.

With his hands gripping my hips, he rocked me into him, rubbing against his cock, over and over again, harder and harder until I didn’t fucking care that the material separating us was causing rug burn.

He flicked my lobe with his tongue. “Mmmmm … you’re so wet. I can feel it.”

I sucked in a breath, wrapping my arms around his neck and leaning into his mouth. “And you’re hard,” I rasped, “so hard.”

His tentative, slow fingers inched under my shirt, his thumbs rubbing circles on my stomach.

“Jax, no,” I protested pathetically, sliding his hands back out of my shirt. “We can’t go that far. We won’t want to stop.”

“If you only knew how much you saying no was turning me on …”

I licked his bottom lip, dragging the tip of my tongue across it. “Doesn’t this feel good?”

He maneuvered under me, pulling his wet shirt over his head and tossing it on the floor. “Hell yes, it feels good.” He grabbed my face and nibbled at my mouth. “But having you so close and not being able to move this one little piece of fabric”—he reached down and teased the elastic of my thong, his soft touch sending shivers down my arms—“that keeps me from sinking inside you is fucking torture. I want you so bad, K.C.,” he growled low. “I’ve always wanted you.”

And I cried out, his hard-on all of a sudden jerking, pressuring my clit. I leaned into his lips, and we breathed each other in as I rode him.

“Oh, Jax,” I cried out, the burn at my entrance making me want more.

God! I wanted more. I slammed my palm against the window, barely noticing the steam we’d created, but Jax held strong. Pushing me back, pulling me forward, sucking the breath out of me, and wanting it just as much as I did.

“Yo, Jax!”

Someone pounded on the driver’s-side window, and Jax and I jerked, looking up.

“What the …?” he bit out, gripping my shaky thighs. The orgasm that had been so close was now slowly ebbing away, and the throbbing between my legs turned vicious. I breathed hard, the need so bad it hurt. Did he feel it, too?

“Jax?” the guy called again, and I scurried back over to my seat.

Jax pounded the steering wheel once, growling. “Stay here,” he ordered.

As he pushed the door open, Jax’s body was rigid and noticeably hard. I groaned to myself, embarrassment warming my face.

“Hey, man.”

“What the hell?” Jax chided, stepping out of the car and not hiding as he zipped up and buttoned his pants.

It had stopped raining, but I didn’t know when.

“Oh, man.” I saw the man’s legs back away. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“What? Did the steamed-up windows confuse you?”

I dropped my face into my hands. He did not just say that.

Jax left the door open and took a step forward. “Just take off,” he warned. “Seriously.”

“Hey, baby,” a woman’s voice piped up, and I dropped my hands, straightening instantly. I hesitated only a moment before I threw open the door and peered over the roof to …

My shoulders sank. No. Shit.

It was one of the blondes I’d seen Jax with that night before college when he drove Liam home. I didn’t want to, but my eyes darted to Jax to see if he moved or anything. Did I care if he was still close to her?

I definitely didn’t want her near him.

She stood with a hand on her hip and a friendly smile on her lips, but it was weird. She looked at Jax more as if they grew up together rather than that they’d been naked together.

And then her blue eyes flashed to me and her eyebrows shot up.

“She’s hot.” She nodded her approval to Jax. “Call me later if you guys want company, okay?”

Huh?

“Excuse me?” I blurted out.

She hadn’t just offered … I ran my tongue over my dry lips, not sure I’d heard her right. Her lazy smile played with me, and it was very clear that she wanted to … yeah.

“Honey.” She laughed. “It usually takes two girls to wear this one out.” She pointed to Jax.

“Cameron, Jesus.” Jax ran a hand through this hair. “Use your filter. Please.” And then he turned to look at me, concern in his eyes.

She held up her hands in defense. “Sorry. Okay? She’s cute. You can’t blame me for trying.” And then she turned her eyes on me and made a telephone with her hand, mouthing, Call me.

“Your brother is waiting,” Jax hinted, jerking his chin behind her to where her brother had climbed back into his car.

I barely saw her smile and walk off. I barely saw Jax turn around and look at me. All I thought about was whether to like her for having the courage to live how she wanted or whether to hate her for being with Jax.

I didn’t like the image of her with him.

Jax stared at me, unmoving and waiting. “Cameron’s a friend, okay?” he explained gently. “An old friend.”

I hardened my jaw, the lump in my throat growing. “I see that.”

“K.C…. ,” he started, but I climbed back into the car before he could finish.

I didn’t want to lose it in front of him. Was I mad? Was I upset? Shit, I didn’t know. All I knew was what Cameron had said. Two girls. Two damn girls to wear him out. Which meant he did it regularly. How could I compete with that? What the hell did he want with someone like me?

I shook my head, going from sad to angry, and regaining my control just in time for him to climb back into the car.

“I’m tired,” I said right away, lying. “I need to go home.”

I stared out the window, but I still saw him. His grip so tight on the steering wheel that his tanned knuckles turned white. The long cord of his tensed arm. The lips closed tight, because I could hear him breathing through his nose.

But he slammed the door shut.

As he made his way back through town, the only sound we could hear was the water on the streets being kicked up under the tires. He’d silenced the radio, we weren’t talking … and I felt as if he’d switched off.

Everything had felt alive when he kissed me. His heart under my palm. His breath in my mouth. His hands roaming over my skin as if they were trying to memorize every inch of me.

Now he was a bullet. Going from point A to point B without hesitation.

Until his flat tone finally filled the car. “Come home with me.” It wasn’t a question, and I couldn’t hear a trace of emotion.

I turned to him, stunned. “Are you serious?” I asked. “I don’t think I’d be enough for you.”

“Don’t do that,” he shot back. “Don’t ruin what happened between us. You were fire in my hands, and I want you to remember it, K.C.”

I could feel his eyes on me as I clasped the strap of Tate’s messenger bag sitting on the floor.

“Clothed, naked, I don’t care … ” He trailed off, sounding almost sad. “As long as your lips are on me again.”

I shifted in the seat, trying to buy myself time. What I wanted and what I should do were two different things. I’d fought that battle with Liam, my mother, and hell, the list went on. It was true when I told Jax that I wanted to be a mess. But I didn’t want to get hurt.

“Thanks for the lesson,” I said. “And the ride. But I’m not like you, Jax. I don’t just ignore the rules and take what I want.”

“You don’t know me.” His tone turned defensive. “You know nothing about me.”

“And what do you know about me?” I threw back. “Other than you wanted me to spread my legs in high school? You want to have fun with me and nothing more, Jax. Find someone else.”

He jerked the steering wheel to the right, and I grabbed the door handle to keep from vaulting over to his side of the car as he sped up into his driveway.

My heart jumped into my throat, and I shot out my hand, grabbing the dash when he skidded to a quick halt in front of his garage.

“Jax!” I scolded.

He shut off the car, yanked the parking brake up, and turned to look at me, leaning his forearm on the steering wheel. “You think I don’t know you?” he challenged.

I pursed my lips. “Other than that I’m gutless and helpless, no.”

He shook his head. “You want to travel. To unusual and dangerous places. You hid a binder full of National Geographic pages in your locker in high school because you didn’t want your mom to see all the pictures you’d torn out to keep track of the places you wanted to visit.”

My jaw dropped slightly, and I widened my eyes. What?

He continued. “You didn’t eat lunch for an entire month senior year, because you saw Stu Levi not eating and found out his single mom was out of work and couldn’t afford to put money on his lunch card. So you put your own money on it. Anonymously.”

How did …?

“You love dark chocolate,” he kept going, “Ricky Gervais, and any movie with singing and dancing.” His voice filled the car, and my heartbeat was in my ears. “Except The Wizard of Oz, because the witch freaks you out, right? And you’ve collected almost an entire set of vintage Nancy Drew books. You had the most badges in your troop in Girl Scouts, and you had to quit swimming when you were fourteen because your mom said that your shoulders were getting too muscular and you wouldn’t look feminine. You loved swimming,” he added.

I wrapped my arms around my stomach, the air turning cold. Tate and Liam didn’t even know all that.

“I didn’t drool all over you in high school, K.C. I listened to you. I paid attention to you. What the hell do you know about me?”

And he swung the car door open, climbed out, and slammed it shut, not waiting for an answer.

I sat there, watching him walk into his house and close the door.

Then the tears spilled over, and as much as I wanted to prove him wrong, I couldn’t go after him. He didn’t know that I’d watched him, too. He didn’t know that I’d paid attention as well.

I always saw him.

“Music centers you,” I whispered to an empty car, staring at his front door. “You listened to your iPod between classes and while you sat on the bleachers before school every morning.” I smiled, letting more tears run down my cheeks and thinking back to him and his black hoodies, looking so dark. “You love popcorn. Almost every kind and flavor but especially with Tabasco sauce,” I said, remembering the times he would come into the theater where I worked. “You hold the door open for women—students, teachers, and even old ladies coming out of Baskin-Robbins. You love movies about natural disasters, but they have to have some comedy in them. Your favorite one is Armageddon.” I swallowed and thought about how little I’d ever seen Jax truly smile. “And while you love computers, it’s not your passion,” I concluded. “You love being outdoors. You love having space.” My whole face hurt, the last words barely audible. “And you deserve someone who makes you happy. I’m just not that person.”

CHAPTER 7

K.C.

“Hey, K.C.” Simon, one of the other tutors, came up to me after the sessions ended on Friday. “Doing anything fun this weekend?”

“Probably not,” I said, without looking at him as I loaded up my bag—or Tate’s bag.

“Well, we’re all going out for coffee. Wanna join us?”

I stopped what I was doing and looked up. Peering around him, I saw the other tutors gathering their materials and some waiting by the door.

Smiling softly, I apologized, “Sorry. It’s kind of hot for coffee.”

“Iced coffee, then?” he shot back, grinning playfully. “They have smoothies, too.”

I swung the bag over my head, legs tensing with the urge to walk.

Simon seemed like a nice guy. And good-looking, too. I wasn’t sure if he was feeling me out or just being friendly, but I clutched the strap over my chest, wishing he had just left me alone.

Not that he’d done anything wrong. I should spend time with people. With a potentially nice guy, too. But last night—and nearly every night this week, actually—I’d opted to ignore Shane and texts from Nik and Tate and either take long, long walks or sit on a lawn chair in the backyard and zone out listening to the iPod. Alone but not really lonely.

How was that even possible?

Throughout high school and college, I was always lonely.

At parties. Lonely.

With Liam. Lonely.

Around my family. Lonely.

Standing in the middle of a group of friends. Completely lonely.

But it was weird. Now that I was alone more than I’d ever been in my life, the doubt and the anxiety were replaced with something else.

Time to think. Time to unwind. It unnerved me, but it also felt kind of good. I started putting my feet on the coffee table, drinking from the carton, and playing music every morning when I woke up. It was as though I was starting to meet myself.

I put my head down, feeling bad as I walked around him toward the door, but I just wasn’t up for being social. “Thanks. Maybe another time, Simon.”

As I walked into the hallway, turning right to head out the front doors, my phone rang from inside the bag.

Picking it out, I looked, only hoping to avoid calls from my mother, but I didn’t recognize this number.

I held it to my ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, Trouble,” a deep voice greeted me with humor.

Jared.

“Great,” I mumbled. “You’re teasing me, too? I seem to remember you getting arrested once.”

I heard his quiet laugh on the other end. Jax’s brother—also Tate’s boyfriend—and I were friendly but not particularly close. I hadn’t seen him in forever.

“It’s Tate’s fault, you know?” I explained. “She’s a bad influence.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

Tate was a ballbuster, and the whole town knew it. While she and Jared used to be childhood friends, he’d begun bullying her in high school for reasons I still didn’t know. When Tate started fighting back, she literally started fighting back. There was a broken nose, a knee in the balls, some slaps, and a whole lot of damage to Jared’s car.

Tate was awesome.

“So, how does everyone know?” I asked, remembering the principal’s now useless advice of keeping my trouble a secret. “Was there a press release or something?”

“Tate doesn’t keep things from me. You know that. And, yes,” he continued, “there was a sort of press release. Liam, your asswipe ex, posted it on Facebook.”

I halted in the middle of the parking lot.

“What?” I burst out, every muscle in my body tightening.

“Let it go.” He tried to calm me. “Damage is done, and he got what was coming to him. Jax put a nice, fat fist in his gut.”

Dropping my head back, I closed my eyes to the sky and felt my chest flood with emotions so strong my nerve endings felt like sparklers. Burning, sizzling, searing sparklers.

“Unbelievable.” I sighed. So that was why Jax had jumped Liam last week. It wasn’t about the incident between him and me at the party but about Liam humiliating me publicly on social media.

“Don’t get mad at Jax,” he scolded. “It would’ve been worse for Liam if Madoc and I had been there, too. Fuck,” he continued, “if Tate had been there? Yeah.”

Yeah. Tate would’ve done even worse to him.

I shook my head. People—hundreds of old classmates and Liam’s family members—were now laughing at me.

Now I wanted to put a fat fist in his gut. Was this how Tate felt when she’d finally had enough? I suddenly felt as if I were five and wanted to push people.

I heaved out sigh after sigh, remembering that Jared was still sitting on the phone. Jared. Tate’s boyfriend. A guy I’d kissed before they were together. Tate’s boyfriend. Yeah.

“Why are you calling me?” I asked finally, getting to the point.

He was silent for a few moments, and my other hand started tapping my leg. Jared never called me.

I heard him suck in a long breath. “Relax. Tate knows I’m calling. I just want to know”—he trailed off, hesitating—“how my brother is doing,” he finally finished.

Jax? Why would Jared be asking me that? And then I remembered Jared and Jax’s fight when Jax was in the nurse’s office.

“Um … ,” I drawled out, trying to find an innocent reply but thinking about the weight room and the Loop. “I’m not sure how to answer that, actually.”

“Does he look healthy?”

“Healthy?” I repeated. I thought of Jax’s muscles that had seemed to double in size in the last two years and the bright white smiles he wore on the field when I tried not staring at him out the window. “Yes. Very,” I said.

“What does he do with his days?”

“Jared, what’s going on?” I prodded.

Jared calling me. Weird. Jared asking me about Jax. Weird. Jared acting worried about anyone other than Tate or himself. Very weird.

“Sorry,” he offered, sounding unusually embarrassed. “It’s just that you’re right next door. I don’t think it’s escaped your notice how much weight he has to throw around, right? The changes at the house. The Loop. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

“He’s your brother. Ask him.”

“I have,” he shot out. “And I have no reason to suspect he’s not okay. I’m just not there, and I … I …”

I raised my eyebrows, finding his stuttering amusing.

“I just hate not being there,” he finished. “I need to make sure he’s happy and taken care of, is all.”

Hmm … I started walking again, thinking about how worried Jared must be if he resorted to calling me. “Well, everything seems fine.” Not normal but fine.

“Fine.” He started laughing. “You really have no idea, do you?”

I rounded the parking lot and stepped onto the sidewalk, my heels digging into the concrete. “What are you talking about?”

He paused long enough to piss me off. “Kind of convenient how the state of Arizona let you come all the way back to your hometown to complete your community service, huh?”

I pinched my eyebrows together. “Well, why wouldn’t they?”

Yeah, why wouldn’t they?

“Mmm-hmm,” he teased. “And it’s pretty awesome that you’re sitting all comfy in your old high school tutoring a subject you love instead of cleaning up trash on the freeway, isn’t it?”

I slowed to a stop on the sidewalk under a canopy of trees.

Principal Masters didn’t know where the e-mail had come from to suggest me for the tutoring at the school.

I let out a breath.

And Arizona let me out without bail.

I clenched the phone.

And the judge let me off with no fines when the standard penalty for a first offense carried a minimum two-hundred-fifty-dollar penalty.

I could barely whisper the question. “What are you saying?”

“Nothing,” he chirped. “I don’t know shit. See you in a couple of weeks, Trouble.”

And he hung up.

Rocks flew across the street as I kicked the gravel on my walk home.

Jared sucked.

What the hell was he trying to tell me?

Oh, I knew what he was trying to tell me. I wasn’t an idiot. Sometimes I was a dipshit, but I definitely wasn’t an idiot.

I mean, did Jax really have the pull to get my community service transferred from one state to the other? And then Jared suggested that Jax got my placement at the high school, too?

I shook my head, my eyes wandering as I tossed his words around in my head.

Yeah. No. For one, Jax didn’t have that kind of power. Two, Jax wouldn’t care. And three?

Jared sucked.

And Jax sucked, too. They both acted as if they had the whole damn world figured out, and everyone else was clueless.

“Okay,” I thought out loud, letting out a sigh and ignoring the whistles from cars passing by.

“Jax could’ve suggested me to Principal Masters when he heard I was coming back to town. But …” I paused, mumbling to myself, as Fuel’s “Hemorrhage” played through my earbuds. “Jax wouldn’t have known I enjoyed writing. In fact, I’d be a hell of a lot happier picking up garbage on the side of the road,” I grumbled.

“Hey, baby!” a male voice yelled out the passenger window of a car passing by.

I flipped him off without looking up.

I didn’t know why guys thought cattle-calling was sexy. It wasn’t as if I was dressed to impress or anything.

Even though all the other tutors dressed casually, I’d stuck to my skirts or dress shorts and nice blouses, hoping to at least look as though I hadn’t been forced by the state to be there.

And even though I hadn’t seen my mother, I knew she’d be disappointed if she saw me dressing unprofessionally in a professional situation.

But I had taken one risk.

Tate left behind some purple Chucks that went well with the white shorts and lavender peasant blouse I’d worn today, so I took a chance.

“And also,” I continued out loud, talking to myself, “I definitely don’t enjoy tutoring. No one that knew me would think I had the temperament to teach, and Jax had to know that much about me.”

“Those kids don’t need an attitude adjustment. You do.”

I stuck my hands in my pockets, narrowing my eyes.

Kids. Those kids. Guilt crept up on me. I might have been only three years older than them, but technically speaking, I was the adult. They were youths needing direction, inspiration, and encouragement.

And I was failing them.

I walked and walked, thinking about Jax’s words, thinking about Tate telling me to get wild, thinking about all the things I could’ve done differently the past two weeks in tutoring.

I walked up streets I’d only ever driven through and down lanes where I’d seen the seasons change so beautifully growing up. It was funny how much I enjoyed walking now. Even though I was sweating, and my hair, flatironed and shiny this morning, was now stuffed into a high, messy bun, my head felt clear.

And I’d finally come to a conclusion.

“Juliet? You could serve God, serve your country, or serve the ones you love, but to find true happiness you must always serve someone or something other than yourself.”

My dad. He told me that one day when he was still in the hospital, on a rare occasion he didn’t think I was my sister. One of the last times anyone other than Shane called me Juliet.

Walking past Tate’s house, past Jax’s house where I noticed Madoc’s GTO parked, I continued the few blocks until I reached my house. My house that had never felt like a home once my dad left.

Looking up at the two-story redbrick Colonial, I clenched the fists in my pockets as my chest flooded with heat.

My mother wasn’t going to be happy.

I reached for the door handle but pulled back, wondering if I was supposed to knock. Swallowing the sudden rush of saliva in my mouth, I fisted the handle and gritted my teeth.

And pushed through the unlocked door.

“Mother?” I called out, stepping calmly into the foyer.

The scent of lemon furniture polish hit me, and my nose started to sting. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the light hardwood floors were soaked in it. Everything shone, from my left to my right. Up the sterile white walls of the staircase to the glimmering tabletops in the dining and living rooms.

Glancing up the wall along the stairs, I saw the same pictures of my sister and me that had been there forever. But the pictures never portrayed us as siblings but instead as a single child growing up. My sister’s photos hung on the wall showing her growth until her death when she was five, and then photos of me after age five took over as if K.C.’s life continued.

All photos of K. C. Carter, a sister I never met. Not one photo of me as Juliet.

I had looked it up on the Internet once. A child conceived to replace another is called a ghost child.

Me.

I heard footfalls above me and looked up, my heart starting to pound double time.

“K.C.?” My mother’s voice preceded her as she rounded the staircase and stopped at the top to peer down at me.

I peered back up, absentmindedly tapping my fingers on my leg from inside the pockets.

My mother looked like Mary Poppins. She always did. Thin and beautiful. Creamy skin that looked fantastic with red lipstick. And black hair always done up in some kind of twist or bun. Her clothes, even the casual ones she wore around the house, were always clean and pressed.

Today, she wore a yellow, flared, knee-length skirt and a white button-up cardigan. Lightweight, from the looks of it, but it still had to be hot as hell if she stepped outside.

“Take your hands out of your pockets,” she instructed in a calm voice.

I obeyed, suddenly feeling as though I should’ve showered and cleaned up before I came here.

“Hello, Mother.”

“It’s nice to see you. I’ve been calling. And texting.” She sounded annoyed as she clasped her hands in front of her.

I hadn’t returned her calls, and I knew that would piss her off. That wasn’t my intention. I just didn’t want to talk to her.

Licking my lips, I clasped my hands in front of my body as well. “I apologize. Tutoring has kept me busy.”

She nodded and began stepping down the stairs. “Now is a bad time. You should have called before showing up at someone’s house unannounced. You know better.”

Someone’s house?

There was a time when my mother was a little warmer with me. Before my father started losing control. But she had always worried about appearances, and I wondered why. Her brother—the doctor—was very much like her as well. Clean and unemotional. But her sister—Shane’s mother—was very loving. What was my mother like as a child? Did she laugh? Did she make messes? Did she make mistakes?

As she came closer, I straightened my back. “I was in the neighborhood, Mother.”

“No, you wanted something.”

I ran my hands down my shirt, noticing how wrinkly the linen was. I had thought I looked cute this morning, but now I felt uncomfortable. I looked ridiculous in this outfit. What was I thinking?

“I wanted to … I’d like … ,” I stuttered, looking away from her gaze raking over my body, taking in my appearance.

“Do not speak until you are prepared, K.C.” She spoke to me as if I were five.

I let out a breath and steadied my body, squeezing my interlocked fingers so tight the skin was stretched.

“May I please retrieve my journals? I’d like to use them in my tutoring lessons.” And I evened out my expression to appear confident even though it took an effort to keep my knees locked.

Her bangs didn’t even move as she cocked her head and regarded me.

“That sounds reasonable,” she answered finally. “But first you need to shower.”

“I’ll take a shower at home,” I said, and started to walk around her toward the stairs, but she grabbed my arm, causing me to wince.

“You are home,” she said sternly. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. It’s time to come home.”

I swallowed. Come home? Dread filled my stomach and spread through my system, slowly eating away at me.