smirk, "I may be the only child you have who's prepared to care for you in your old age."
"I have four kids," Dad chuckled. "I figure I'll live with the youngest, and make the older three suffer."
"You'd prefer to live with Logan than me?" I asked in an appalled tone of voice.
"Logan doesn’t threaten old age pensioners, Hope," Dad shot back with a grin.
"Let him stay, Kyle," Mom crooned, as she drifted into the kitchen, armed with a bucket full of cleaning detergents.
Mom had her dark hair pulled back off her face, and I had to hold in the gasp that tried to burst of me. As beautiful as my mother was - and she was gorgeous - the horrible scar she bore on her face still frightened me. She was scarred on every spare inch of her skin, but the one on her face was, by far, the worst one. It was so deep and distracting, but my dad never seemed to take any notice of it. He looked beyond Mom's scars.
I think I loved him a little more for that.
"He can sleep in one of the boy's rooms if you're worried, but he's a good boy. You know this."
I loved Mom even more for opening her mouth and sticking up for Jordan. Dad was a marshmallow when it came to my mother. The big, hotshot businessman in him fell to pieces when my petite mother came up against him.
"This is the last year, Hope," Dad grumbled, as he pushed his chair back and stood. "You're getting too old for this shit. It stops."
"Watch your mouth, Kyle," Mom warned.
"You like my mouth, Princess," Dad said with a smirk, as he prowled towards her.
And that's where I checked out.
Ugh.
****
Jordan
Age 18
She was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. I knew that sounded contrived, but never in all my eighteen years had I looked at someone so beautiful - so full of life.
I fed off Hope Carter's positivity, and I lived for her smiles. Being with Hope took the pain away; numbed the voices in my head; made me feel like I had a life worth living because I had her.
"You're staring again," Hope announced, stirring me from my reverie.
We were sitting at her parent's kitchen table. Hope was writing in her journal, and she was right. I was staring at her. Shaking my head, I buried the smile that was threatening to creep across my face and said, "Sorry."
"Don’t apologize," she told me, flashing me one of those amazing smiles I craved. Brushing a dark curl back from her face, she rested her cheek in her hand and grinned. "I stare at you too."
My heart slammed against my ribcage. It felt like it was trying to force its way out of my chest and into hers.
And then his voice penetrated my mind, and I remembered exactly why I didn’t deserve the girl sitting opposite me.
"Say you like it, you little shit."
"I like it," I cried out, digging my fingernails into my flesh, piercing my skin, and wanting to burst into flames and disintegrate from this planet...
I was weak.
I couldn’t defend my own mother.
I couldn’t defend myself.
I didn’t deserve shit …
The feeling of suffocation built inside me at a rapid pace, causing my heart to palpitate and my palms to sweat.
"What's wrong?" Hope asked me, ever perceptive. Reaching across the table, she covered my large hand with her small one. "Talk to me, Jordan," she urged, entwining her fingers with mine.
My throat felt like sandpaper, and I couldn’t get my words out, but I clung to her hand, savored the feel of her skin on mine like it was the last time I would ever get the chance. Hope was too young and pure to ever understand my life. But that's exactly what I loved most about her. She was untouched by the shitty things in the world – she was innocent and good.
Kyle Carter had made sure of that – her father had protected her from the bad things in the world. Like my father should have done for me – like he should have done for my mother …
"Did he do it again?" she asked me then, and I felt like dying.
"Do what?" I replied, desperately trying to hide my secrets and protect her
"I have four kids," Dad chuckled. "I figure I'll live with the youngest, and make the older three suffer."
"You'd prefer to live with Logan than me?" I asked in an appalled tone of voice.
"Logan doesn’t threaten old age pensioners, Hope," Dad shot back with a grin.
"Let him stay, Kyle," Mom crooned, as she drifted into the kitchen, armed with a bucket full of cleaning detergents.
Mom had her dark hair pulled back off her face, and I had to hold in the gasp that tried to burst of me. As beautiful as my mother was - and she was gorgeous - the horrible scar she bore on her face still frightened me. She was scarred on every spare inch of her skin, but the one on her face was, by far, the worst one. It was so deep and distracting, but my dad never seemed to take any notice of it. He looked beyond Mom's scars.
I think I loved him a little more for that.
"He can sleep in one of the boy's rooms if you're worried, but he's a good boy. You know this."
I loved Mom even more for opening her mouth and sticking up for Jordan. Dad was a marshmallow when it came to my mother. The big, hotshot businessman in him fell to pieces when my petite mother came up against him.
"This is the last year, Hope," Dad grumbled, as he pushed his chair back and stood. "You're getting too old for this shit. It stops."
"Watch your mouth, Kyle," Mom warned.
"You like my mouth, Princess," Dad said with a smirk, as he prowled towards her.
And that's where I checked out.
Ugh.
****
Jordan
Age 18
She was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. I knew that sounded contrived, but never in all my eighteen years had I looked at someone so beautiful - so full of life.
I fed off Hope Carter's positivity, and I lived for her smiles. Being with Hope took the pain away; numbed the voices in my head; made me feel like I had a life worth living because I had her.
"You're staring again," Hope announced, stirring me from my reverie.
We were sitting at her parent's kitchen table. Hope was writing in her journal, and she was right. I was staring at her. Shaking my head, I buried the smile that was threatening to creep across my face and said, "Sorry."
"Don’t apologize," she told me, flashing me one of those amazing smiles I craved. Brushing a dark curl back from her face, she rested her cheek in her hand and grinned. "I stare at you too."
My heart slammed against my ribcage. It felt like it was trying to force its way out of my chest and into hers.
And then his voice penetrated my mind, and I remembered exactly why I didn’t deserve the girl sitting opposite me.
"Say you like it, you little shit."
"I like it," I cried out, digging my fingernails into my flesh, piercing my skin, and wanting to burst into flames and disintegrate from this planet...
I was weak.
I couldn’t defend my own mother.
I couldn’t defend myself.
I didn’t deserve shit …
The feeling of suffocation built inside me at a rapid pace, causing my heart to palpitate and my palms to sweat.
"What's wrong?" Hope asked me, ever perceptive. Reaching across the table, she covered my large hand with her small one. "Talk to me, Jordan," she urged, entwining her fingers with mine.
My throat felt like sandpaper, and I couldn’t get my words out, but I clung to her hand, savored the feel of her skin on mine like it was the last time I would ever get the chance. Hope was too young and pure to ever understand my life. But that's exactly what I loved most about her. She was untouched by the shitty things in the world – she was innocent and good.
Kyle Carter had made sure of that – her father had protected her from the bad things in the world. Like my father should have done for me – like he should have done for my mother …
"Did he do it again?" she asked me then, and I felt like dying.
"Do what?" I replied, desperately trying to hide my secrets and protect her
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