Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (118 page)

“Fuck, no.”

“Oh, so you only cuss in front of him? Good to know. Uncle of the Year award right here,” Trace pointed at his brother.

“Get out of my house,” Trent grumbled, reaching down to grab the remote and turn the TV off.

“Who pays the bills? Oh, I do, that makes it
my
house,” Trace retorted.

Olivia rolled her eyes and looked at me. “They argue all the time. I think they find it fun.”

I didn’t really know what to say to her. She was a stranger, and I wasn’t the type to make friends easily.

“Come on, Trace,” she put her hand on his muscular arm and lightly tugged. “Let’s go home. I’m tired.”

“You better not be too tired,” he grinned, letting her lead him towards the front door, “I’m not done with you yet.”

“Trace!” She scolded, looking back at Trent and I with an embarrassed smile. “See you guys another time,” she waved, pushing Trace out the door.

As soon as the door was closed and the headlights of their car fanned across the front window, Trent whistled, giving me a funny smile. With his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, he said, “That was awkward.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You could say that again.”

“That was awkward,” he grinned impishly.

Noting the time, I frowned. “I have to go.”

“I know,” he headed for the kitchen, grabbing up the plastic containers. “I’ll walk you out.”

He didn’t bother putting on a coat, and as soon as the cool air greeted us Goosebumps broke out on his skin. He jumped up and down trying to keep his body moving. I unlocked my car and he handed me the food. I leaned inside to set it on the passenger seat. When I straightened, I could’ve sworn his eyes had been glued to my ass.

I raised a brow at him and he smirked, not at all ashamed at having been caught.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, leaning in to press his lips to mine. He ended the kiss quickly, before things could progress to a dangerous level, but I was no less affected.

I got in my car and watched him jog back into his house. With a shake of my head, I forced myself to back out of the driveway and return to reality.

I woke up early, determined to make the kids a hearty breakfast and spend some time with them. I scrambled eggs and made some of that microwave bacon. I popped three slices of toast into the toaster and gathered the plates. After I’d placed everything on the table I looked up to find Tristan standing there rubbing his eyes.

“Good morning,” I told him cheerily.

“That smells good,” he pointed to a plate.

“I hope it tastes just as good,” I bent, kissing the top of his head. I wrapped my arms around him and held him close. Tristan and Ivy were the only people I’d ever truly loved. Something told me though, that if I let myself, I could love Trent too. I didn’t know if I’d ever be ready for that though.

I released Tristan and he climbed onto the chair. Ivy came out of the bedroom next, sniffing the air. “Mmm,” she hummed.

Based on their reactions, I was glad I had taken the time to make them a decent breakfast. Most mornings, I either didn’t have the time, or we didn’t have the ingredients.

I sat down with them, taking the time to talk to them. Tristan was excited about learning the Alphabet, and Ivy kept mentioning a boy’s name. I was going to have my hands full with that one.

I loved these moments I had with them where we were like a family. I really hoped I didn’t have to wait much longer before I could take custody of them away from my mom.

As if conjured by my thoughts, she appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Her hair stuck up wildly around her head and there were bags under her eyes. “Give me that!”

My mouth dropped open when she snatched Tristan’s half-eaten plate from him. What kind of mother takes food from her child?

Tristan’s bottom lip began to tremble with the threat of tears.

I stood slowly, glaring at my mom. “Give. That. Back.”

“What?” She gasped, not because she hadn’t heard me, but because she couldn’t believe I had spoken.

“You heard me.”

A piece of egg clung to her bottom lip. Everything about the woman was disgusting—even me, because I was a part of her. Her taint clung to me, and it was something I would never be able to shake.

She set the plate down on the counter, not in front of Tristan.

“This is my house,” she seethed, the stench of her breath threatening to knock me down, “and the food in it belongs to me. I’ll eat whatever the hell I want.”

“
I
bought that food and
I
made it,” I pointed to my chest. “You have no right—”

My head snapped to the side with the impact of her hand landing against my cheek. My teeth had bitten down on the sensitive inside of my mouth and I tasted blood.

Tristan began to cry, and when I looked at Ivy her mouth hung open in shock.

“You ungrateful brat!” She screamed at me, hatred filling her eyes.

I wasn’t going to let her think that a slap would silence me anymore. I was done being passive. My mouth filled with blood and I wondered if it was possible to need stitches in your mouth. I really hoped not. “You’ve taken
everything
from me!” I couldn’t seem to stop shouting. “I’m not your little bitch anymore! I’m not going to sit back and let you rule me! I’m done!”

She seemed shocked at my comeback. I always took her shit and never fought back, but she had done one too many things to me in the past, and I had finally snapped.

She didn’t seem to have a comeback, so she grabbed the plate of food, glaring at me, and marched back into her bedroom. She slammed the door closed hard enough to rattle the whole house.

“Tristan,” I whispered, bending down to take his small face in my hands. His cheeks were wet with tears and I hated that I’d been part of the cause for them. “It’s okay, Tristan.”

“You-you-you,” he hiccupped, “bleedin’.”

I reached up to my mouth and my fingers came away with a slight red mark. It wasn’t bad, but to Tristan it seemed like the end of the world.

“I’m fine,” I assured him.

He shook his head, his sandy hair falling into his eyes. “Not okay. You’re bleedin’.”

I took him into my arms, rocking him back and forth as he cried. No kid should have to witness what went down between my mom and I. Tristan was probably wondering when she was going to hit him and when I’d yell at him. I had to get them out of here. I just had to.

When Tristan’s cries had stopped, I slid my plate towards him. “Here, eat mine.”

He was hesitant at first, but eventually hunger won out and he started eating what was left of my food.

Now that the adrenaline was wearing off my cheek stung and the inside of my mouth was throbbing. I needed some Advil.

I went to the sink and filled a cup with water. I used it to swish out the lingering blood coating my mouth. The day had barely begun, and I already wished it were over.

Let’s go to Griffin’s. I’ll pick you up in an hour.

The text was from Trent. A part of me felt like responding to him and telling him that I couldn’t. My cheek and mouth were still sore, and I had a headache that didn’t seem to want to leave—one that not even my prescription medicine could relieve. After I took the kids to school, I’d come back home and shut up in my bedroom with the curtains drawn. I wanted to block out the world. Leave it to Trent to make that impossible.

K.
I typed back.

A moment later he sent a smiley face. I hadn’t done anything after the showdown with my mom, so I knew I looked horrible. I took the quickest shower of my life, towel-dried my hair, and applied more make-up than I normally would to hide the red mark on my cheek.

He said he’d pick me up in thirty minutes, so I tugged on a pair of worn jeans and gray sweater. It had dropped into the teens, so I grabbed my warmest coat, black mittens, and my infinity scarf with the words BAM! and POW! on it with drawings of superheroes. I knew Trent would like it.

The door to my mom’s room was closed. I didn’t bother telling her where I was going or checking on her. I didn’t care. I’d stopped caring a long time ago.

When I reached the front of the house and looked out the windows Trent’s black car was parked by the mailbox. I hurried outside to him, excitement filling my belly. A short amount of time surrounded by Trent was turning me into a completely different person.

I opened the car door and slid onto the warm leather seat. When I looked over at him and saw him watching me, my heart skipped a beat, just like they always talked about in romance books. The sound of my breathing filled the car and I couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed by it. Our eyes connected and neither of us moved. The silence swirled around us and I found myself desperate to shatter it.

“Why are we going to Griffin’s?”

Jesus, Rowan, of all the things you could ask him,
that’s
what comes out of your mouth? Brilliant.

He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. “I’m not telling. You’ll see soon enough.”

He turned the radio up and
Goodbye
by Glenn Morrison sounded through the speakers.

We didn’t really talk along the way. We didn’t need to. That was something else I liked about being with Trent. There was no awkward silence, only comfort.

He parked across the street from Griffin’s and hopped out to put change in the parking meter.

He opened my door for me and held out a hand for me to take. I stared at it with unease.

“It’s just a hand, Row,” he said, “you can let go as soon as you get out if you want. There’s no obligation for you to hold my hand.”

I placed my hand in his and he closed his fingers over mine. He helped me onto the curb, and went to release my hand, but I tightened my hold. He glanced down at me in surprise. I smiled up at him and he grinned in response, a dimple popping out in his cheek. I liked that dimple. A lot. I itched to stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to the indent, but I didn’t. I wasn’t brave enough yet. I’d take it one step at a time, starting with handholding.

Traffic zoomed by and we waited for the crosswalk to flash our turn. I itched to pull my hand away from his, but I forced myself to keep it where it was. There was nothing wrong with this.

When it was our turn we jogged across the street, our breath fogging the cold air. The sky was gray with the promise of snow.

Trent held the door to Griffin’s open for me and I stepped inside. It was packed and I was taken aback by all the people.

“Come on,” Trent took my hand again, reaching up to adjust his maroon colored beanie with the other, “back here.”

He pushed through the crowd and I didn’t know how he got his body to fit through such small spaces.

In the back area of Griffin’s there was a stage where musicians could perform. Someone was up there now.

A hand shot up, waving us towards a table.

I was trapped behind Trenton and couldn’t see who it was.

It turned out to be Trace and Olivia. Trace was grinning from ear to ear, and Olivia bounced Dean on her lap.

“I’m so happy you guys could make it,” she smiled, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. There was a nervousness to her demeanor as she bit down on her bottom lip and glanced nervously at Trace.

“Are you okay?” I asked her, pulling off my black mittens and shrugging out of my coat.

She nodded. “I always get nervous before I sing.” She began chewing on the side of her fingernail. Trace grabbed her hand, pulling it away from her mouth, and twining his fingers with hers. He looked at her with so much love that even I couldn’t help but be affected… especially when I’d seen Trent look at me in a similar way.

“You’re singing?” I asked her, a bit surprised.

“We’re singing together,” Trace clarified as Olivia tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, then proceeded to cover the top of Dean’s head with kisses. She looked like she was going to be ill, poor girl.

“Do you sing?” I turned to Trent, who’d taken the seat beside me.

“No,” he replied quickly. “I’ll leave the singing to those two.”

“Are you bad?” I asked.

His brows furrowed together. “I don’t know. I’ve never actually tried to sing.”