Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (111 page)

I nodded. “The best.”

His small lips turned down in a frown. “Shouldn’t we get a sticker? My teacher always gives me a sticker when I’m a good helper.”

That got me to laugh. “Sorry, I’m fresh out of stickers, but not kisses.” I grabbed him before he could run away and smacked my lips against his cheek.

“Ew, Row! You got lipstick on me!” He tried to wipe off the pink imprint left behind on his chubby cheek.

“It looks good on you,” I joked.

“It’s gross.” He sent me the meanest glare he could muster, which was hardly a glare at all. I didn’t think Tristan had a mean bone in his body.

“Fine then, I’ll wipe it off,” I stood and led him over to the sink. I wet a dishtowel and wiped the lipstick from his cheek. “All gone.”

“I wish y’all would shut up!” Jim yelled. “I can’t hear the damn TV!”

Tristan looked at me with wide eyes. “He said a bad word. He should get soap in his mouth,” he whispered.

I couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Since Jim is cranky, why don’t we go do something in your room,” I suggested. “I can play a game with you guys,” I looked up at Ivy so she’d know I wasn’t only speaking to Tristan.

“Can we build a fort?” Tristan asked excitedly. “I love forts!”

“We can build a fort,” I replied, smiling at his jubilance. Little kids, I had learned, didn’t need much to make them happy. Some parents thought tossing a shiny new toy at a kid was what they wanted. That wasn’t true. All a child wanted was someone to love them, to play with them, to make them feel special. I knew that from watching Ivy and Tristan. I’d also learned from my own experience. As a child, all I had wanted was for my mom to
notice
me. To be more than a nuisance. It never happened though. I was always in the way. That’s what made me determined to make Tristan and Ivy’s childhood better than mine. I never wanted them to feel unloved or uncared for. I wanted them to know they were special, because it was true. Every child is special. A gift.

Tristan held out his small hand and led me to the bedroom he shared with Ivy.

I spent hours making forts and playing with dinosaurs beneath them. I understood the appeal to building a fort. You could pretend you lived in a different world, a world where nothing could touch you, and bad guys didn’t exist. The blankets served as a cocoon, protecting you from everything evil. You couldn’t stay hidden forever though and eventually the bad guys would find you. They always did.

“This dinner looks tasty,” Jim patted his round stomach as I leaned over to place the turkey on the table. As I pulled back his fingers grazed my breasts. I shuddered in response, revulsion clinging to me like the tendrils of vines.

I started counting in my head so that I didn’t do or say something that would get me in trouble.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

After the numbers flitted through my mind I felt calmer and more centered.

Since a card table served as our dining table, I chose to stand by the counter with my plate of food after I’d helped Ivy and Tristan with theirs. Besides, I didn’t want to be near Jim anyway… or my mom. I was surprised she was actually eating something and not already passed out.

We all ate in silence. We didn’t have anything to talk about, so there was no point in making idle chat. Even Ivy and Tristan said nothing.

My mom’s fork clattered to the ground. “Fuck!” She exclaimed, her face going red with anger. She always got so angry over the dumbest things. “Rowan! Get that!”

I sighed, sitting my plate down. I wanted to tell her to get it herself, but I’d rather avoid an argument.

I got down on my hands and knees, crawling beneath the table to retrieve the fork that was right beside her foot. I grabbed the fork and started to back out. My movements halted momentarily when Jim’s hand landed firmly on my butt, squeezing. Oh, hell no. I was tempted to pierce his bare foot with the fork in my hand for that one.

“Ew! Jim has his hand on Row’s butt!” Tristan exclaimed.

I hastily scooted all the way out and jumped up, tossing the dirty fork in the sink and grabbing a new one for my mom. She snatched it out of my hand so quickly that the prongs scratched my skin. “You little whore,” she seethed, “always enticing the men, even my husband.” Her hazel eyes—the exact same shade as mine—were full of hate. Of course she’d consider Jim touching my butt
my
fault, instead of seeing that the guy was a scumbag. Her thought process was so twisted. I preferred her when she was too drunk to cause trouble. She was ridiculous.

I knew better than to say anything. It would only serve to make her angry, and I didn’t feel like hearing her spout hateful comments at me. If she got
really
mad her fists would start flying, and I didn’t want the kids to see that. She’d never hit Ivy or Tristan, only me and even that was occasionally. If she laid a hand on one of those kids though… I don’t know what I might do. Whatever it was, it would probably land my butt in jail.

“I don’t know why the fuck you still live here?” She continued, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. She took a long drag and continued, “Ain’t you eighteen now? I shouldn’t have to pay for your sorry ass.”

Anger simmered in my veins at that comment, and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “For starters, I’m twenty-one, and
mom
,” I said in a condescending tone, “you haven’t paid for my ‘sorry ass’ in a long time. You don’t work, and he barely makes enough money to buy a loaf of bread. So, who’s money keeps this roof over your head?” I glared at her, hatred for the woman that birthed me ate up my insides. “Me,” I pointed at my chest, “I pay for this. All so you can blow your welfare check on booze and cigarettes. So don’t preach to me about values and certainly don’t call me a whore.” I let out a lengthy breath.

She shook with anger, her stringy blonde hair falling into her eyes. It looked like she hadn’t washed it in a week, which was probably the case. I knew I shouldn’t have spouted off the way I had. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

She let out a roaring scream and knocked her plate to the ground. The glass shattered and food splattered against the walls. “Do
not
talk me that way!” She screamed. “Don’t forget everything I’ve done for you!”

I swallowed thickly, anger rising inside me to match her. “What you’ve done for me?” I yelled back. I hated that the kids were seeing this, but I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. I’d retreated into the shadows, never saying anything, for all my life and finally something inside me had snapped. “What you’ve done for me is ruin my life! You’ve taken
everything
from me!”

“You’re nothing but an ungrateful
bitch
,” she spat, shoving the table. It toppled over and food went everywhere. Ivy and Tristan began to cry. I couldn’t do anything to comfort them right now. My mom stalked towards me, her hand raised to slap me. She didn’t though. “Thanks to me you have a
life
.”

I shook my head. “You’re wrong. What life I had thanks to you was destroyed a long time ago.” My voice wasn’t angry… mostly defeated sounding.

“You really hate me, don’t you, Rowan?” She stared up at me—I was at least a head taller than her.

“I suppose I loved you once, like all children love their parents, but I lost respect for you a long time ago. And after everything you’ve said and done to me…” I paused, lifting my shoulders in a small shrug, “I guess I do hate you. How could I not?”

Her lips twitched into a smile. A freakin’ smile. God, she was weird. “At least you own it.”

“I am what I am. I feel what I feel. There’s no sense in denying it,” I stated.

“You really are my daughter.” Her lips spread up into a wide smile, revealing her rotted teeth.

Hearing the word
daughter
come out of her mouth, repulsed me. I didn’t belong to her, and I didn’t like her staking claim to me. “I’m nothing to you.”

Something about those words made her snap. Her hand shot out, smacking sharply against my cheek, pivoting my head to the side.

I raised a shaking hand to my stinging cheek. Tristan and Ivy’s cries grew louder. “Try that again,” I warned through clenched teeth, “and you won’t like what happens. Me, them,” I nodded at the kids, “we’ll be gone and you’ll lose all this,” I spread my arms to encompass the house. “Don’t push me, mom.”

Her nostrils flared but resignation shone in her eyes. She knew that without me she’d have nothing. What she didn’t know was that I was nowhere close to being ready to leave. The rent for this place was hardly anything—seeing at it was a dump and all. I couldn’t afford a nice place yet and I knew legally I couldn’t take the kids. I’d end up arrested for attempted kidnapping. But she was dumb and didn’t know that. For now, threats were my only real weapon and I planned to use them to my full advantage.

Finally, she turned sharply on her heel and stormed out of the room. The front door slammed closed behind her.

“Fuck,” Jim groaned, pulling at what little hair he had left. “Ronda!” He hopped up, running after my mom. I didn’t know he could move so fast. I guessed he knew he needed to do damage control for groping my ass.

I sighed, looking at the mess of food covering the floor, the walls, and the kids. This was not going to be fun to clean up.

I bent down on the floor to start the process of cleaning up, but didn’t get very far. Tristan launched himself into my arms and wrapped his around my neck. “You and mommy fighted. I don’t like it when you fight. She said bad words. I don’t like bad words,” he looked at me with wide innocent blue eyes. “She hit you. She not nice. I don’t like her. Why does she have to be my mommy? Why can’t you be my mommy, Row?” My eyes closed at his words, my throat clenching. His small hand gently rubbed my sore cheek. “Hold still. I kiss it and make it better.”

My stomach tightened painfully at Tristan’s words. I held him in my arms as his soft lips touched my cheek—trying to take away my pain. If only sweet little kisses could make everything better. The world would certainly be a vastly different place.

Hey.

I stared at the text message flashing on the screen of my phone. It was from a number I didn’t recognize and I wasn’t sure whether I should respond or not.

It’s Trent.
The text came through a minute after the first.

How’d u get my #?
I typed back. I knew I hadn’t given it to him and I was curious to know who had.

Ran into my new best friend, Jude. Cool dude. Glad I didn’t have to fight him for u. I would’ve though.

I rolled my eyes; slightly pissed that Jude had given Trent my number. Wasn’t that breaching some kind of friend code or something? I mean, I’d been asked by more than one of Jude’s conquests for his cellphone number and I never gave it away. I was nice like that. Apparently Jude didn’t return the same favor.

Don’t be macho.
I typed back.
U went through all this trouble to get my # so what do u want?

My phone began to buzz in my hand and I lifted it to my ear.

“I didn’t feel like typing on that ridiculous keyboard any longer. It changes everything I type, so then I have to double check it before I click send so I don’t say penis when I mean pens,” he rambled without a breath in-between.

“Do you text about pens a lot?”

“I like pens,” he stated, and I knew he was smiling that crooked grin that made my insides squirm. “Anyway, I didn’t call to discuss the merits of a good ball-point. I wanted to discuss our date… that’s supposed to happen in three hours… if you haven’t backed out on me,” his voice grew slightly sad sounding.

“I haven’t forgotten,” I mumbled, staring at the clothes strewn about my room. I had never cared how I dressed before. Even when we’d dated in high school, I hadn’t cared what Trenton thought of my clothes. Suddenly, though, I wanted to be worthy of being seen with him. Pathetic, I know. Over night I had turned into one of
those
girls. Irritated with myself I turned the phone on speaker and grabbed a pair of black leggings, shimmying into them.

“I’ll pick you up at one—”

“No,” I protested, clutching a loose teal sweater in my hands.