More Than Lies (33 page)

“And last night?”

“Just a misunderstanding. No biggie.” I’m an idiot to think Shawn wanted something more or to even try anything with him again. I don’t know, being around him most of the day yesterday, being in some form of physical contract, I clearly wasn’t thinking very clear. “I sent Matt a text last night before bed. I’m going to ride back to Oxford with him this morning.”

As if on cue, my phone chimes telling me I have a message. Picking it up, I confirm it’s my best friend.

Matt: Waiting outside.

“He’s here. I was going to change and then get my bag out of Shawn’s truck.” Mason stares at me, but doesn’t say a word. I grab my dress off the top of the dresser and make my way into the bathroom, but I’m stopped as I place my hand on the doorknob.

“No need to change into your clothes from yesterday. Just grab a pair of gym shorts from the bottom draw over there.” He points in the direction of the tall chest of drawers across the room. He’s not looking at me; instead he looks to be texting on his cell phone.

Thinking about it, I really don’t want to put back on a dress that’s only going to be constricting. Loose, comfyness is what I want right now. Mase’s clothes will do until I get home to shower and put on sweats.

“Okay, thanks.” I pull out a pair of black basketball shorts. After I have them on, I roll the band a few times because I can’t stand them falling past my knees. When I’m done, I grab my purse and head toward the door that leads to the back yard. “Thanks again. You coming home today?”

“Yep.” He smirks down at his phone. I wish I were in on whatever is so humorous. I could use a laugh right now.

Exiting, I stop by Matt’s car and place my purse inside.

“I need to grab my stuff. Be right back.” He doesn’t say anything, but nods.

Walking up to Shawn’s truck, I open the back door. He always leaves his truck unlocked. Not sure why. Probably isn’t smart, but it’s not like the neighborhood is shady so I guess I get it. He only does it at his parents and back home too.

Before I’m able to reach in and grab my heavy tote bag, someone wraps their hand around the bend at my elbow and yanks me backwards. In a quick motion, I’m turned and my back meets the steel of the side of the truck. It doesn’t hurt, but I’m caught off guard.

“What the hell, Tara? Why did you take off last night?” I look up to see hurt eyes looking back at me. I wanted to avoid this conversation. That’s why I asked Matt to pick me up this morning. I didn’t figure Shawn would be up this early.

“I don’t want to deal with this. Let’s forget it ever happened. I’m going home.” I point toward Matt’s car to indicate my ride is here and waiting.

“Well, too bad. That’s exactly what we’re going to do. Right now.” He crosses his arm over his broad chest and leans back a few inches.

He can go blow smoke up a bear’s butt. I don’t give a crap. I’m leaving and I’m leaving right now.

“No!” Screw it. He has to come home eventually. I’ll get my things out of his truck then. I make a move to get past him, but Shawn quickly stops me by stepping in my path.

“You aren’t leaving. We need to talk.”

“Move,” I bite out. Last night was embarrassing enough as is. I don’t need a reminder. I certainly don’t want to rehash it out; not with him anyway.

“Not until you listen.” I don’t think so. I step in the other direction only for him to mimic my move. “Just hear me out.”

“Why?” I don’t give him time to respond. I don’t want him to. “There’s no point. Bye. See you later.”

I don’t get a chance to move an inch past him. Instead, I’m picked up and toss over his shoulder. He starts to walk, but not in the direction of where Matt and Mason are standing next to Matt’s car. My guess, he’s walking toward his parents’ front door.

“Put me down.”

He doesn’t comply.

“Shawn, put me down.”

Nothing!

When I’m jolted up and down a few times, that confirms my thoughts of him taking me into Mr. and Mrs. Braden’s house. The door swings open and he enters with me.

“Grab that for me and close it, would ya, Tara?” He sounds smug.

“Put me down.” I yell.

“That’s not gonna happen, darlin’.” I watch as he raises his leg to kick the door closed with his boot.

“Shawn Douglas, what do you think you’re doing?” Pam’s voice rings out. Thank God. She will make him put me on the ground, hopefully soon, too because I’m getting dizzy. “Put her down.”

“Stay out of this, please, Mom.” Shawn starts to ascend the stairs. I’m once again jolted which only make the vertigo worse. I have to close my eyes.

“Shawn.” I call out. He has to stop soon.

“Zip it, Tara.” He hits the landing then turns. I’m pretty sure in the direction of his bedroom. Although mine is across the hall from his so he could be heading to either one. I keep my eyes closed. A door opens and then I propel backwards where I land on a plush surface.

Opening my eyes, I see it’s a bed. His bed.

I make a move to rise up, but get nowhere when he straddles my torso. Oh, hell!

“Why did you run from me last night?”

“You know why.” I don’t want to do this. Why can’t he leave it alone? After everything I’ve been through the last few days, I want to feel nothing. I want to black everything and everyone out. Especially him. He makes me feel too damn much. Want too much.

“If I did I wouldn’t be asking you.” I stare up before turning my face to look away. I can’t look at him and say this. I don’t want to see the truth in his eyes.

“God, Shawn, don’t, please don’t, I know you didn’t want me. You don’t want me. Hell, you’ve told me over and over again. You would think I’d learn by now.” He grabs my jaw, gently turning my face to look at him. The one thing I don’t want to do. He lowers getting inches away from my face.

“I’m pretty sure my hard dick said otherwise. Fuck, Tara.” Now he sounds pissed.

“Just because your body reacts to mine doesn’t mean you want me, wanted me. I saw you. You were standing in front of me. You were doing everything possible not to—” I’m cut off.

“Get off her, Shawn. What is the matter with you?” I can’t see Pam because Shawn’s body is blocking his mother’s.

“Mom, please stay out of this.” He blows frustrated air into my face. I hate how it reminds me of what he tastes like when his tongue is in my mouth.

“Bill.” Pam yells out. Great! Shawn’s in for it now and this will not end well for him if Mr. Bill walks in and he’s on top of me.

“Shawn, get off, please.” My voice is begging him.

“Leave, mom.”

“This is my house, Son, now get off of Taralynn,” she commands.

“Sweetheart, what’s—” There’s a pause; too long of a pause. “What the? Shawn,” he yells. Seconds later, Shawn’s body is ripped off of mine. Mr. Bill shoves him backwards toward the window. I know Shawn and I know that he would never lay a hand on his dad, but I don’t want to chance anything happening.

I jump off the bed and before I process what I’m doing, I’m standing between both Shawn and his dad. My back is to Shawn.

“Mr. Bill, please, it wasn’t as bad as it looked.” It probably was, but no need to confirm that for his parents. It’s not like Shawn intended to hurt me. He would never. Shawn is many things—man whore, asswipe, jerk—abuser is not one of them.

“Taralynn, I need to speak to my son.” He looks down at me. “Alone.” His tone leaves no room for argument, but that doesn’t seem to stop me.

“What are you going to do to him?” Shawn places his hands on my hips and pulls me back toward his chest. Shawn’s parents have always been reasonable. They talk things out. Bill doesn’t look like he wants to talk anything out. This concerns me. Apparently his Dad reads that from me because his brows turn inward.

“Have you ever seen me lay a hand on him or Shane or you?” He breathes hard. “I just want to talk to him. That’s all.”

“Tara.” Shawn calls my name. I twist, looking over my shoulder and lifting my eyes to meet his. “Head home with Matt. Take Mason, too. I won’t be long behind.”

Nodding, I do as he says, walking away from him and out the door past Pam.

I didn’t come home right after I left my parents’ house like I told Tara I would. That was thirteen hours ago. My head was so messed up…it still is. I drove. I thought if I could step foot out of this state; if I could just get a few hundred miles of distance clarity would come. It didn’t.

I slam the gearshift into park. I’m home and sitting inside my truck in the driveway. She’s somewhere inside the two-story house I’m staring at.

Dude, you’ve never been a pussy so why are you being one now?

I open the door and hop out of the truck. After trudging up the steps, I open and walk through the front door.

The house is quiet, but there was a car in the driveway that I don’t recall seeing before so someone other than my roommates are here. Soft voices filter down the foyer. They’re coming from the kitchen. I hear a female voice, familiar, but it’s not Tara’s. I head in that direction.

When I enter, Matt is leaning against the counter top in front of the sink, Mason’s sitting on a bar stool with his arm stretched out on the granite island, and the girl, Samantha, I’m certain, is sitting on top of the island counter. The three of them are in grossed in conversation.

“Where’s Tara,” I ask causing them to turn their heads my way. “Samantha, right?” I nod in her direction.

“That’s it, but you can call me Sam if you like. Most people do and Taralynn is in her room. I was up there about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Is she doing okay?” I know it’s a dumb question, but it’s the one that’s been on my mind all day.

“As good as can be expected of her.” She has a point there. She would know too. Samantha, or Sam as she wants to be called, lost her dad a year ago.

“How’s the tat healing?”

“Great. You made my mom cry, though.” She smiles.

“We were going to order pizza since there’s no food in the house.” Mason slides off the stool then walks to the fridge. When he opens the door all I see is beer. He grabs two out then comes back to the same spot he was seated. He hands Sam a cold beer while giving one of his smooth smiles. She’s definitely his type. If blondes are my type, then redheads are his.

“Okay. I need to talk to Tara. Catch you guys a little later.” I don’t wait for any response, but I do notice the smile Sam tries to hide before I turn, walking back down the hall. Rounding the stairs at the front of the house, I jog up until I reach the landing.

I knock on Tara’s bedroom door, but I don’t get anything from the other side. I knock again, the same. This time, I turn the knob and walk into an empty room. Everything is immaculate except the ruffed covers on the bed. The sound of running waters draws my attention toward the door leading into the bathroom and closet. She must be taking a shower.

I’ll wait.

Walking over to the bed, I straighten the covers before sitting down on the edge of the side that faces the dresser. Looking into the mirror, I determine I look like shit. I didn’t get any sleep last night, I haven’t eaten today, and being cooped up in a truck for hours hasn’t help. I’m fucking tired.

I lean back, allowing my body to rest on the mattress while my feet remain on the floor. I throw my arm over my eyes to shut out the overhead light from the ceiling fan above me.

I’m not lying there long, maybe a minute or two, when I hear the clicking sound of the bathroom door opening. I breathe out a long puff of air. I’m clueless as to how this is about to play out. And fuck me if I’m not a little bit scared; maybe even more than just a little.

“Shawn.” She sounds shocked. Perhaps she didn’t expect me to come see her when I got home. I should have been home long before now. We need to finish our conversation from this morning. My dad was so pissed at me. Probably still is. Who knows? I didn’t stick around for a lecture. I walked out within five minutes after Tara left.

A shadow crosses over my face telling me Tara is standing at her dresser so I pull my arm away to peer up. Her back is to me, but she can still see me through the mirror. She has a black towel wrapped around her body with wet hair hanging past her shoulders.

“When did you get back?” I hear her words, but forming a response isn’t working. Raising my torso, I sit up on the bed to take in the rest of her. My eyes fall to her bare legs. Shit.

“We need to talk.” She ignores what I say.

“How did things go with your dad?” She squats to the floor, pulling open one of the bottom drawers where she pulls out a set of pajamas.

“Not about that.” She stands and places them on top of the dresser. “We need to discuss what we were trying to talk about before they interrupted us.” She closes her eyes and lets out a puff of air before opening them back up to look at me again through the mirror.

“Let it go, please,” she pleads.

“That’s not going to happen, darlin’.”

Tara pulls open another draw, this time one at the top and pulls out a pair of panties. When she pushes the drawer closed, she bends at the waist to step into the navy blue material. With one hand I grab the opening of the towel and with the other I open her palm causing her to drop the underwear to the floor. My eyes glide up her body until I meet hers. Pulling lightly on the towel, Tara takes a step closer toward me until she is standing between my legs.