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I walk inside the house, shoving the door open with a forceful grunt. Work was fucked. I’m fucked. Between working and spending a few nights fucking Tracey, the woman I’m sort of seeing, I haven’t been able to get any rest. Fuckin’ women. I ought to give her up and go back to casual fucking, was a heck of a lot easier. I toss my keys down and walks around the corner into the lounge and stop when I see Damon and Ellie sitting on the couch, laughing.
They stop when I walk in.
My eyes go to hers.
Hers go to mine.
And damned if my first instinct isn’t to lift her off the couch and throw her over my shoulder. Where I’d take her, is anyone’s guess. But I have no doubt it would involve a room, and my cock. She’s fuckin’ perfect, in every way that counts. And she’s pure. It’s written all over her face. Beauty, raw, untouched, beauty.
“Hey bro,” Damon says.
“Hey,” I mutter, dragging my eyes from Ellie and looking at him. “Where’s dad?”
Damon’s face goes a touch harder, and I fuckin’ hate that. I hate that slowly, dad’s drinking and the way we live, is eating away at his spirit. He’s the happiest out of all of us, the best without a doubt. But he’s starting to experience too much, shit I didn’t want him to have to experience. Tryin’ really fuckin’ hard to get us out of this mess, but right now, it’s a long and winding fuckin’ road.
“Bed,” he mutters, glancing at Ellie, then back at me. “Made a fool of himself in front of Ellie. We came home and he was tryin’ to cook dinner, at midday. He burned all the food we had out for dinner, and then vomited all over the kitchen floor. Ellie helped me get him to bed.”
My eyes flick to Ellie, and she gives me a soft smile. As if to say it doesn’t bother her, that I have a fuckin’ shitty father and she had to help Damon out.
“Don’t need the whole fuckin’ town knowin’ our business, Damon. You shouldn’t have let her see that.”
Ellie’s face falls, just a touch, but her eyes don’t move from mine.
“She’s not the whole fuckin’ town, she’s Ellie. And she’d never speak about us to other people.”
“Don’t fuckin’ care who she is, our business is already hot topic, don’t need any fuckin’ more attention.”
I turn and walk out, frustrated, but fuckin’ angry at myself for going off on Damon. Not his fault dad is a fuck head. I walk upstairs and stick my head in dad’s door. He’s face down on the bed, snoring. I exhale, fighting the urge to go in there, rip him off that bed, and shake him.
I’ve about had enough.
Know Lincoln has, too.
He’s a grown ass man, we can’t afford to keep proppin’ him up and pullin’ him out of shit.
I go into my room, take a really long shower, call Tracey and tell her tonight is a no go because I’m tired. I then listen to her complain because she wants to see me, and asks if she can come over for dinner, because all we do is fuck. Tell her no to that, too. Then I head back downstairs to make dinner, out of fuck knows what because dad ruined what I’d already planned.
When I reach the kitchen and step around the corner, I stop when I see Ellie already chopping vegetables. She looks up when I walk in.
“Your dad ruined what you had out, I’m helping out. You can yell at me if you like, or you can help, either way, I’m making you all dinner.”
I narrow my eyes at her, but she doesn’t back down, she holds my eyes and stares at me, almost challenging. There is a fire inside this angel. I’m surprised, I’ll admit it. I didn’t think she had it in her, she seems so quiet and sweet.
“Whatever you want,” I finally say.
“Okay Slater Knight,” she murmurs, getting back to her vegetables, “Whatever I want.”
The side of my mouth quirks up in a small smile, but she doesn’t see it because she’s back to making whatever it is she’s making.
“You know we eat a lot,” I say, stepping in beside her.
“I know,” she says, still chopping.
“Care to share what you’re makin’? I can help.”
She looks over at me. “You want to help? Are you sure about that? I might tell everyone in town you’re not as scary as you make out.”
My mouth quirks again, and her eyes light up. “Sorry about that, but you gotta understand I don’t know you, and I don’t need any more shit in my life, especially when it comes to dad.”
“Noted,” she tells me. “And I’d never speak about other people’s business, not when my own is something I myself hate being shared with the world. Believe me when I say I know how it feels, try being the new foster girl at school, everyone wants to know my story.”
I see she has chicken chopped in a bowl and a heap of pasta set to the side, taking a guess that she’s making some sort of chicken pasta bake, with vegetables on the side, I grab the bowl and pull out a pan, putting it on the stove to start browning it.
“What is your story?”
She stops chopping, and contemplates it for a moment, before speaking softly, “My parents both died when I was younger. Car accident. I got put into the system because nobody wanted me. My dad only had a brother, and he was a drunk. My mother had no siblings. I had no choice.”
“How old were you?”
“Five.”
“You’ve been in the system since you were five?”
She nods.
“Fuckin’ sucks.”
She nods again.
“You got no siblings, then?”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s just me. I can’t complain, I’ve been mostly lucky. The families I’ve lived with have all been nice. I hope this will be my last home, and then I’ll go off and create my own life.”
“Takes a lot of courage to do that.”
“Everyone does it, Slater Knight. We all have to create our own lives eventually.”
I stare at her. “You don’t have to say my whole name.”
She stares back at me. “I like it.”
Fuck me.
And I like her.
A little too much.
She’s too young for me.
~*~*~*~
