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Monday (Timeless #1) Page 6
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He relaxed slightly as he adjusted the watch on his wrist. “Ready to go?”
I forgot about our plans.
“Where are you two going?” Francesca asked.
“Out.” Axel didn’t look at her. “Let’s go.”
“Can I come?” Francesca asked.
No. That would be more awkward.
“No, brat,” Axel said. “We’re headed to the bar and don’t need a crow to scare all the sparrows away.”
“I’m not a crow,” Francesca hissed.
“You sound like one,” Axel shot back.
I didn’t know how to get out of this. The guilt was eating me alive. If I went out with Axel, Francesca would know how much of a pig I was. I had every right to do whatever I wanted but…I didn’t want to do it. Not in front of her. “Axel, I’m not feeling well…” I rubbed my temple like I had a migraine. “Go ahead without me.”
That look of accusation was back. “Then take some ibuprofen.”
Francesca watched our interaction.
“We’ll go out tomorrow.” I would make an excuse then too. “After fishing all morning and dinner…I’m just not feeling it.”
Axel wouldn’t say anything in front of his sister, but it was clear he wanted to. “Well, I’m going out. I’ll see you in the morning.” He grabbed his keys from the door then walked out. He didn’t slam the door but it was clear he wanted to.
I turned back to Francesca and tried not to stare.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Because I have some aspirin.” The concerned look on her face somehow made her more beautiful.
“Don’t worry about me.”
Francesca rested her hands in her lap and fidgeted quietly.
Now it was awkward, and I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to go out with Axel because I knew it would make things more strained between us. But making up an excuse to stay there seemed to make it just as uncomfortable.
“My brother told me to stay away from you.” Instead of looking at the opposite wall or the ground, she looked at me. She never seemed nervous around me. Nothing could intimidate her. “He said you were a bad guy.”
Her brother did the dirty work for me. “And he’s right.”
She didn’t react overtly, but a small look of disappointment was in her eyes.
I knew it hurt her when I didn’t call her for a second date. The look on her face when I walked away from her on her doorstep would be forever ingrained in my mind. I knew there were still feelings on her part, as there were on mine. “I’m the type of guy you hate. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear from the beginning.”
She searched my eyes like she was trying to find something. She did that often and I wasn’t sure why. “I don’t hate you, Hawke. And you’ve given me no reason to.”
“I beg to differ. I completely misread you when we met. I’m sorry my stupidity caused so much awkwardness.”
“But you didn’t misread me,” she said. “I came on a little strong…because I really liked you.”
My heart accelerated in my chest.
“And I don’t blame you for getting that impression. It’s easy to misinterpret my forwardness for sluttiness.”
I wish she were slutty. “I’m glad we were able to work this out.”
She nodded. “We’re both adults. At least now everything makes a little more sense.” She held my gaze for a moment, her green eyes as vibrant as a freshly mowed lawn in the heat of summer. “So…you never have relationships?”
“No.” I said it without hesitation.
“Never?”
“Never.” I looked her in the eye as I said it. She needed to understand that would never change.
“So you just…hook up with women and never call them again?”
“No.” I was never dishonest. “We usually go out for a few weeks, and then I stop calling because I get bored.”
She didn’t flinch at my bluntness. “But doesn’t that get boring?”
“No.” Having any type of relationship wasn’t an option for me.
Pity moved into her eyes. “It sounds lonely…”
Loneliness was all I’d ever known. “It can be…but I like it that way.”
She shook her head slightly. “Why?”
Why? That was a question I could never answer. It didn’t matter who asked it. “Because.”
Sadness was plastered all over her face. “Are you going to keep doing this until you find the right girl?”
“I’ll never find the right girl. Even if I found her, I wouldn’t want her.” I’d never talked about this so deeply with another person. When all the others asked about it, I didn’t even answer them. I let the silence stretch on.
“My brother does whatever he does…but I know he has relationships also.”
“And that’s him, not me.” Why did she keep pressing this conversation? Did she want me to change? Did she think she could get me to change? “I’m not good for you, Frankie. I don’t know how many different ways I can say it. If you’re looking for Prince Charming or a knight in shining armor, he’s not me. I’m dark, cold, and distant.” Laying out the truth like that didn’t make me feel better, but it would make her understand that I would never change—even for her.
“I believe you.” There wasn’t sadness in her eyes like I expected there to be. There wasn’t even judgment. “I just…feel a connection between us. I can’t explain it… Do you know what I’m talking about?”
I did. I felt it the moment I met her. It was why I couldn’t stop going into The Grind even though I couldn’t stand the way her friend Marie gawked at me every two seconds. I saw a vision of our wedding reflected in Marie’s eyes. But I came back to see Francesca. And when she finally made it clear she wanted meaningless sex, I was very happy…but then I was wrong about that. “I guess.” Downplaying my feelings was all I knew.
“We both want different things and there’s nothing wrong with that. If that’s how you want to live your life, I won’t think less of you. And I want a husband with kids someday, and there’s nothing wrong with that either. You shouldn’t think less of me.”
“I don’t.” She’d never done a single thing to make me think less of her. In fact, I thought the world of her.
“I would love to be friends—real friends. No more creeping around the truth. Just honesty. It saves time.”
She didn’t think I was a disgusting pig? She just accepted me for who I was? She didn’t try to change me? It was that easy? “I would love that.” It was the only thing I could offer her other than fucking her a few times until I lost interest. In a way, this was better for both of us.
“Then you should go so you can catch up with Axel.” That look of disappointment I expected to see wasn’t there. “You don’t have to stay here just because of me. You don’t owe me anything.”
For the first time, I didn’t want to go out to a bar and pick up a girl. I didn’t want to take her to a hotel and fuck her a million ways. Actually, I wanted to stay there while the fire burned in the hearth. I wanted to look at the beautiful woman next to me and talk to her.
I wanted this—friendship.
Stabbed In The Heart
Hawke
Cynthia lay next to me on the bed. She snuggled into my side like a teddy bear and gripped me tightly. Her hand rested on my stomach and she sighed deeply every few minutes.
I didn’t like being touched.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asked in a raspy voice.
I didn’t mind doing back-to-backs, but I wasn’t feeling it with Cynthia. The sex was mediocre and I didn’t want another round. “I have plans.” I slid out of her embrace then sat at the edge of the bed. “You should get going, Cynthia. I have to work in the morning.”
She sat up with an offended look in her eyes. “What about after work?”
“Busy.” I grabbed her clothes from the floor and handed them to her. I told her exactly what this arrangement was, a
nd I was irritated that she was trying to make it into something more. And I was even more irritated that she was acting like I was the bad guy.
“Are you always a dick?”
“When I’m treated like one.” I pulled on my boxers then checked the time. It was almost eleven.
She released an irritated sigh before she started to get dressed.
“Would you rather I lie to you? Would you rather I woo you then blow you off?” Lying to get into a woman’s pants was low. I had a few friends who did it on a regular basis, but they didn’t understand just how painful that was for the girl they left behind. I chose to be upfront about my intentions, right from the beginning. But somehow, I was an even bigger ass because of it.
“Shut up.” She chucked my alarm clock at me.
I caught it in midair then put it down. Her anger was starting to boil. She wasn’t getting her way and she didn’t like it one bit. She’d grown attached to me in our short time together, and she expected me to fall for her exceptionally good looks, soft hair, and her beautiful legs.
Not gonna happen.
She finished getting dressed then gave me a look of menace.
I chose to ignore her rage. “I can take you home if you don’t feel like driving.”
The coldness in her eyes didn’t fade. “You’re such a jerk. I’m amazing and any guy would be grateful to have me.”
Any woman that called herself amazing was way too vain for my taste. Confidence was nice and very sexy. But arrogance…not my thing. “I’m sure that’s true.” I did my best to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
She grabbed her purse then stormed down the hallway.
She was going to call me for a booty call in a week.
I followed her to the door and opened it for her. “You okay to drive?”
“Like you give a damn.” She stormed out and disappeared down the hall.
I shut the door and locked it, glad she was finally gone. When I entered my bedroom, my phone was lit up with a text message. Francesca’s name was on the screen, and my irritation immediately evaporated. It was a picture of her shoving an enormous muffin into her mouth. There was a caption underneath. I saved you a few.
My lips pulled into an involuntary smile and my thumbs moved across the screen as I typed a message. Make sure you don’t eat mine.
I can’t promise anything but I’ll try.
Fatass.
Hey, we both know I have a beautiful ass.
I smiled again. You really do.
Come by The Grind tomorrow and I’ll hand them over.
If there are any left…
I’m giving you the bird right now.
And I deserve it. I stared at the screen for a few more minutes and hoped she would say something. Our conversations were one of the few things that made me happy. The rest of the time, I was dissolved in pure darkness.
When I knew she wasn’t going to say anything else, I set the phone on the nightstand and set my alarm.
Then it began to ring.
I grabbed the phone and checked the caller ID.
It was my mom.
I knew this wouldn’t be good. In fact, it would be terrible. I’d gotten this call so many times, and it never failed to ruin my day. I closed my eyes and released a deep sigh before I answered it. “Are you okay?”
Mom’s voice came out terrified over the line. “He’s bad again…” My father screamed in the background, and it sounded like things were crashing and breaking. “I’m in the bathroom. I don’t know what to do…” The tears in her voice made my hand form into a fist.
“Call the cops.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
I didn’t want to get sucked into this. I hated being a part of it. But I couldn’t turn my back on it either. I was the only thing keeping my mom out of an early grave.
“Theodore…”
“Hawke.” I hated that name. I refused to let anyone call me by it.
“Please.”
I wasn’t strong enough to separate my life from this. If I ever wanted to have a normal life, I needed to move on and never look back. But I knew I could never do that. “I’m on my way.”
***
As soon as I stepped inside the house, I saw broken furniture on the ground. Plates were shattered into pieces, wine bottles were smashed into piles where they’d fallen, and a chair had been broken into sticks.
“Open this door right now!” Dad was banging on the bathroom door. He shoved his weight against it like he was trying to open it. “Now!”
My body immediately tensed as I stormed down the hallway. Once I reached him, I grabbed him by the back of the neck then threw him down hard into the ground. My father used to torment me because he was much bigger than I was. But things had changed. I was the stronger one, and I never let him forget it. “You’re a worthless piece of shit.” I slammed his head down into the floor again and his eyes suddenly closed as he was knocked out. When he didn’t stir, I knew he would be out for a few hours. “Mom?”
She cried from inside the bathroom.
“Mom, he’s out.”
She sniffed loudly from inside.
“You can come out now.”
The door clicked as it unlocked and then it cracked open. Thin and frail, she looked down at Dad. Instead of being happy he was knocked out, she looked sad like she pitied him.
It didn’t make any sense.
She wore a nightgown and her hair was almost gray. It lost its color many years ago. Her thin arms were bony, and she was more than a foot shorter than me. She stared at my father for a long time before she looked up at me. “Thank you, honey.”
“You okay, Mom?” I put my arm around her and examined her body for bruises. Fortunately, she had none.
She nodded slightly, her eyes still glued to his body on the floor.
“You want to stay with me tonight?”
She nodded again. “I don’t want to be here…”
I told her to leave him but she never listened to me. She was always too scared that he would come after her and do something much worse. When I contacted the police, Mom lied and acted like nothing was going on. There was nothing I could do to help someone who didn’t want to be helped.
The easiest thing would be to cut off all contact and move on with my life. I kept being dragged back because of this. But I’ll never forget the way my mother protected me when he came after me. She took more hits than I could imagine, breaking her arm in two different places. She wasn’t strong enough to protect herself but she always protected me.
And I would do the same for her. “Let’s go to my place.”
***
“Want some coffee?” The coffee pot beeped when it finished brewing.
“Sure.” Mom sat at the kitchen table, hunched over with tears still stained on her cheeks.
“Cream and sugar?”
“Yeah.” Her voice was so weak it sounded dead.
I carried the mug to the table and placed it in front of her. Then I sat across from her with mine. It was black—the way I usually took it.
Mom stared at her cup and didn’t take a drink.
I stared at her and didn’t know what to say. I already had this conversation so many times and I couldn’t have it anymore. It never went anywhere. I could never instill reason in her. The next morning, my dad would come and apologize. Of course, she would forgive him like nothing happened. A few weeks later, we’d be exactly where we are now.
What was the point?
I sipped my coffee and thought about Francesca. I wondered if she was sleeping. If she wasn’t, what was she doing? I imagined her baking muffins in her kitchen wearing a pink apron. The delicious smell filled the house, making it feel like Thanksgiving all over again.
“You drink it black?” Mom stared at my mug.
“Yes.” I automatically took another sip.
She returned her gaze to her own mug. “So much like your father…”
My hair immediately stood on end and adr
enaline spiked in my blood. Mom always said that like it was some kind of compliment. We looked the same, we talked the same, and now we drank coffee the same. I hated being compared to him…especially when I knew the similarities were true. “You can have my room. I’ll sleep on the couch.” I’d have to change the sheets. It would be awkward if my mother knew what I was doing in there just an hour ago.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” She sipped her coffee and stared at the table.
Like always, we acted like nothing just happened. We pretended that our lives were perfectly normal like everyone else’s. We had holidays just like the rest of society, and we were happy just like every other family.
But no matter how much we pretended, it never came true.
***
I killed the engine and sat outside her house. A light was on in one of the bedrooms, and I wondered if it was Francesca’s. Maybe she was working late on a paper. Or maybe she was reading.
I texted her. You awake?
She responded immediately. Who wants to know?
Her playful attitude always made me smile. Only she could pull that off. My mom was sleeping in my bed at that very moment, and my dad was still passed out in the hallway. But that seemed so far away. A very hungry man.
You want muffins at this time of night?
Don’t judge me.
You want to come over?
Would it creep you out if I said I was in front of your house?
Yes…that’s very creepy.
LOL. I can circle the block if that makes you feel better.
No. That’s creepier.
I laughed to myself. Your muffins make me crazy.
I get that a lot.
I rolled my eyes then got out of the truck. Open the door. I headed to the porch and stood under the light.
Francesca opened it, wearing plaid pajama shorts and a white tank top. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders and her face was free of make up. It was the first time I’d seen her that way, and I was surprised by how beautiful she looked. Most of the time, girls looked like a completely different person without make up. But she…somehow looked better.
Francesca grew self-conscious under my stare. “Don’t expect me to look like a beauty queen at one in the morning.”