I get a chill up the back of my spine. I haven’t opened my eyes yet, but I know that someone is staring at me. My heart tightens with fear and my body tenses as it prepares for impact. Then I hear a familiar snort, and I remember where I am and realize that there’s no reason for me to be anxious. I crack one eye open and there sitting about two feet away from me is Bruce. I swear he looks like he’s smiling at me. I pat on the couch for him to come over to me but he doesn’t move a muscle, just continues to sit there smiling at me. I hear noise coming from the kitchen again, and then the aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills my nose. There’s something else mixed into the aroma, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Cinnamon, pumpkin maybe? It doesn’t matter, it smells heavenly.

I sit up because I have to pee like nobody’s business.  Man, Justin was right, I’m fucking sore. Yesterday’s pain has got nothing on what I feel like right now. It’s like Mac truck versus Godzilla with a little Freddy Krueger mixed in. I know that moving around will help loosen up my bruised and battered body. But, fuck me, man. This is even more painful than I imagined. I ease back down to the couch. Bruce still hasn’t moved. He just sits there looking at me like I’m nuts.

“Geez, Bruce. The least you could do is help a girl up!” He tilts his head to one side then the other. He looks toward the other room and lets out a couple of loud barks then looks back at me.

Justin comes walking from the kitchen toward the couch carrying a steaming cup of coffee. My mouth instantly starts to water. I know that it’s partly because it’s been too long since I’ve had coffee. But mostly because Justin is wearing nothing but pajama bottoms. My eyes run the length of his lean muscular body. Pausing for an inappropriate amount of time looking at the dark trail of hair that runs from just underneath his belly button only to disappear under the waistband of his pants.

Justin clears his throat. I pull my eyes away from the glorious trail that leads down to what I’m sure is a marvelous treasure. When I finally make eye contact with him, his one eyebrow is lifted, and there’s that smirk.

“What? I’ve had the shit beat out of me. I’m not dead. Besides, it’s your fault. Walking around here all GQ like. It’s hard for a girl to focus on anything else.”

He hands me the cup of coffee and sits down next to me. “Well, the only thing you need to focus on is getting better.”

He pats the couch and Bruce come waddling over to him acting all happy and proud. That’s when I realize that Bruce hadn’t moved since I woke up.

“Wait a second… Was he babysitting me?”

Bruce crawls up into Justin’s lap, and Justin rubs him behind his ear. “I wouldn’t say babysitting exactly. More like, just keeping an eye on you.”

I bend over the best I can to get down eye level to Bruce. “Trader.”

He gives me a big lick across the face. “Okay, fine. You’re forgiven.” I smile.

I take a long drink of coffee and almost spit it across the room. Whatever it is that I’m smelling isn’t this coffee. Holy bat shit. This isn’t fucking coffee. This is more like black tar that’s been hanging around underground for a couple million years.

Justin has the most adorable look on his face. “I’m guessing by that look. The coffee’s a little strong. Sorry, I haven’t made coffee in a while. I normally just grab some on the way to work.”

With a sheepish smile, I tell him, “Umm, it’s just a tad strong.”

He lets out a loud chuckle and shakes his head. He takes the cup from my hand gets up and heads for the kitchen. “Kitten, you are a terrible liar.”

Once again, Bruce stays behind, sitting and watching me intently. I stick my tongue out at him. “Watch this.”

Bracing my weight against the arm of the couch, I slowly get up. Holy fucking shit balls. It does hurt more than yesterday. Every single inch of my body hurts, even my hair hurts. I make it to my feet and begin to make my way down the only hallway in the house. I need to find the bathroom ASAP. Justin had led me yesterday, and frankly, I didn’t pay attention which door was the bathroom. I hear Bruce let out a little whimper as I walk away.

I turn back to him, holding my finger to my lips. “Shh.”

The hallway is completely decorated with framed artwork of Bruce Lee. I guess he is a really big fan. I hear the patter of feet behind me. The minute I look back, Bruce is right behind me. Turning back around, I see something that doesn’t fit into the Bruce Lee motif. At the far end of the hall, there is a glamorous frame, with a single light shining down on it. When I get close, I see it’s a photo of a couple standing at the altar. She’s wearing one of the most elegant dresses I have ever seen in my life.

It’s a very simple design. Made of only silk that fits her petite frame perfectly. The train stretches out beyond the edge of the photo. Looking like she just stepped out of an old Audrey Hepburn movie. Around her neck is a single strand of pearls. Her hair is in loose curls that cascade upon her shoulders. One side is pulled back with a comb of matching pearls. She holds an exquisite bouquet of white calla lilies and pink roses. Looking up at him, she has the sweetest most endearing expression. Like her entire world is standing right there next to her.

The man next to her is of equal stature. Very tall, with broad shoulders. He was wearing a traditional black and white tuxedo with a single calla lily on his lapel. He too has a look of complete admiration and love for the beauty standing next to him. The entire scene is so surreal, exuding elegance and grace. It feels like I am sitting in the front church pew sharing in the excitement. Surrounded by the love that is shared between these two people. I hear the cheers as they say, ‘I do,’ and then he kisses his bride. The Recessional begins to play as they make their way down the aisle as the new Mr. and Mrs., walking out the church doors to start their new lives together. To live happily ever after.  

A loud crash and then an even louder, ”Shit,” pulls me away from what I truly believe was an enchanted event. I make my way carefully back down the hallway. I poke my head in the first room I come to. It’s not the bathroom. I’m guessing it's Justin’s bedroom. I can’t believe my eyes. It’s in perfect shape. The bed is made, no dirty clothes are laying around. Good hell, there’s not even a dirty glass on the night stand. The curtains and bedspread are both a dark blue and brown combo. There are even a couple of MC Escher prints on the wall. Suddenly my head starts to spin, and I can feel sweat starting to build on my forehead. I hold onto the wall for stability as I make my way to the next room. Why didn’t I just listen and stay put until Justin came back? Oh, that’s right, I have to pee, and I’m nosey as fuck and wanted to look around. The next room is a laundry room and holy shit, it’s just tidy as the bedroom. Who is this guy? Mary Fucking Poppins? 

Alright, there’s only one room left. Bingo. The bathroom. It comes as no surprise that the bathroom is nice and neat too. There’s no toothpaste in the sink bowl, not even one whisker left on the sink. Hell, even the toilet seat was down. Mary Fucking Poppins, I swear. 

 I just get sat down when I hear Justin calling my name. “I’m in the bathroom!”  

The door suddenly comes flying open, scaring the hell out of me. “Is everything Okay?” 

“Yeah, everything’s coming out just fine. Maybe even a little faster since you scared me to death.”

He runs his hands through his hair. “Christ, you scared the fuck out of me.”

“Sorry, I had to pee. What, did you think I ran away?”

“I don’t know what I thought. I just really wish you would have said something so that I could have helped you. What if you would have fallen?”

Waving my hand over my entire body, I tell him, “Yeah, I would hate to have gotten a bruise or cut. That would have messed all this up.” I smirk at him.

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, smartass. Finish up, and I’ll help you back to the couch.”

I wait for him to leave the room so that I can finish my business. But he just stands there.

“Umm, can I finish?”

“Sure.” He leans against the wall and crosses his legs.

“Umm, maybe a little privacy?”

“Sure.” He doesn’t move.

I can see that I’m not going to win this. I give him a smug this doesn’t bother me look and grab the toilet paper. The truth is, I’m beyond horrified that this is happening. I hope he can’t see how embarrassed I am.

Before I continue, I look at him on last time. “Really, I can handle wiping by myself. In private. I mean, what the hell kind of trouble could I possibly get into in here? There’s not even a window that I could escape out of.”

He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his already sagging sleep pants pulling them down even further. “Well, had you behaved yourself and stayed put and asked for help then I wouldn’t have to. But, you didn’t. So, I have to.” He shrugs, cocky.

“So, this is all my fault?”

“Yep.”

There’s frustration in my voice. “Fine!”

I start to get up and realize that maybe it was a little tougher than I had thought. He steps in front of me and wraps his arms around me. I place my arms around his neck. My face is pressed up against his warm, soft skin. With one swift yet tender movement, he lifts me back to my feet.

Very carefully, he pulls my panties and sweats back up my legs. With his arm around my waist, I step over to the sink. He keeps his arm around me, making sure I don’t lose my balance as I wash my hands. I take a sneak peek in the mirror to see exactly how scary I look. I’m taken back at the image that is looking back at me. I clasp my hand over my mouth. My face looks like something from a horror movie. It’s so bruised and swollen I almost don’t even recognize myself. The cut above my eye looks crusty and gross. Justin steps in closer to me putting each of his hands on my hips. I slowly lift my shirt. The bruising covers both my sides and stretches out across my stomach. The tears start to run down my cheeks as I stand there silent. I look up at Justin in the mirror. He doesn’t say anything just tucks his head in my neck.

When we step out into the hallway, I can’t help but steal a glance at the exquisite portrait at the end of the hall. I’m overwhelmed with a mixture of emotions. Sadness, jealousy, even a little anger. Why couldn’t my life be like that picture? Why does it have to be such a fucked up mess?

Justin helps me take a seat at the kitchen table. He brings glasses of orange juice to the table and moves a chair closer to me.

He takes my hands in his and looks directly into my watery eyes. “We’ll get through this, together. You know that I’m here for you, right? No matter what, I’m here.”

I don’t understand. Why? Why would this amazing person want to contaminate his world with me? It can't be because he can’t get another girl. I mean he’s sweet, caring, and hotter than fucking hell. Am I a charity case to him? Or maybe he’s playing a game with me. What reason on God’s green earth would he want to get caught up in this hot fucking mess?

“Sarah, do you hear me? I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere. I know what you’re thinking.”

I look up from our clasped hands into his beautiful eyes. “You do?”

“I do. You’re wondering why. Why this happened to you. Why things just can’t be normal. Or at least, what you deem as normal. Why you’re here with me. Why we’re here together. Well, you know what, Kitten? I don’t know the answers to all your questions. But, I do know this. I like what I feel when I’m around you. I’m pretty sure that you feel it too. I know in the deepest part of my soul that our paths crossed for a reason. I truly believe that we are both right where we should be. Together, we can find our very own version of normal.”

“Oh, you have no idea how much I hope you’re right, Justin.”

He peers into my eyes, gazing into my soul. “I am. Do you trust me?”

“I do. I’ve told you that.”

Caressing my face, he says, “Good. Now let’s get some food in you so you can take some painkillers to take the edge off.”

He takes a drink of orange juice and gets up from the table.

“Hey, Justin.”

He stops mid step and turns around. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me.” He smiles and it’s genuine.

Could he be telling me the truth? Is it possible that he feels the same ‘zing’ as I do? Could this really be the start of my very own happily ever after? Can I let go of the demons that have consumed me for so long? Yes, with him by my side, I think I can try. No, I know I can. I watch Justin standing in front of the stove making us breakfast. Oh, hell yes I can. It’s my time. This is my chance.

Justin sets a plate filled with French toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon down in front of me.

“So, this is what I smelled earlier. I thought it was the coffee, but holy shit, that sure wasn’t the case.” I make a foul face.

He grabs his chest like I just shot him through the heart. “What? I thought you said that the coffee was just a little strong.”

“Oh, umm, yeah. It was just a little strong. Strong... like tar… other than that it was… distinctively tasty. Yep, that’s it. Distinctively tasty. Don’t get me wrong I appreciate the effort. I do. I’ve always wanted chest hair.”

“Smart ass. Now eat up. The French toast recipe is a Troma family secret. My mom didn’t even tell me what was in it until I was like four years old. I’m telling you, top secret.” He winks.

With my first bite, I understand why the recipe’s a secret. I’m sure it’s one of the most delicious things I have ever tasted. “Now, this is what I smelled earlier.”

After I take a couple more oversized bites, I tell him, “Pumpkin pie spice, nutmeg, just a hint of cinnamon and vanilla. Am I close?”

Justin looks at me with a very smug look. “Ah, very wise, young grasshopper. But now that you’ve figured out the secret, I’m going to have to eliminate you. If the secret recipe for Troma French toast gets out, it will be total world anarchy.”

In the driest voice possible. “Yep, total anarchy. Absolutely.”

When we’re finished eating, I get up to start cleaning up. Can this man not only cook but he can make on serious fucking mess! The kitchen looks like a bomb went off in it.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He gives me a stern look.

“Umm, I’m going to clean up.”

He gets up from the table. “The hell you are! You have a seat in the living room. I’ll take care of this.”

"Justin, I don’t mind helping. I mean you did go to all this work making me this delicious breakfast. You’ve taken care of me. It’s the least I can do. Besides, it might do me some good to move around a little.”

“Nope, you’re going to go rest.”

Okay, now I know I’m in some episode of the Twilight Zone.

He sits taking me by the hand and leads me back to the couch. He hands me the remote and tells me to watch whatever that he won’t be long. I giggle at him because I saw the catastrophe that is the kitchen. It would take even Mary fucking Poppins a couple of hours to get it clean.

Before going back into the kitchen, he looks at Bruce. “You, old man. You had better do a better job than you did earlier or you’re fired. You hear me?”

Bruce hangs his head and puts his paw on his face as if he’s trying to hide.

“Don’t you pay any attention to that big old’ meanie head. You come on up here and sit with me, and we’ll find something to watch together.”

I pat the spot on the couch next to me, and Bruce slowly crawls up and curls up next to me. Justin disappears into the kitchen, so I turn on the TV to see if I can find anything good. I finally settle on the comedy channel. I already feel like I could fall asleep just sitting here. After eating that big ass breakfast and not being allowed to move around, I figure there’s no sense in fighting it. I know Justin’s going to be a while, so I get comfortable and close my eyes.

A man’s voice and a cheering crowd wake me up. It takes me a minute to figure out that it’s coming from the TV. I rub my eyes trying to focus on what’s on. It’s some kind of cage fight. What the hell, I didn’t put it on this. I must have hit the remote by accident. That’s when I see him. Holy fucking shit balls from hell. It’s Justin inside the cage. He repeatedly takes quick sharp jabs at the other guy. The other guy’s head snaps back with every punch like he’s some kind of flimsy child’s toy. I can’t believe my eyes. I move so I can see the TV better.

It’s total fucking carnage. There’s blood sprayed everywhere. People are going ballistic. Jumping up and down, yelling towards the ring, and chanting out what I assume are the names of the fighter. It’s so loud that I really can’t make it out. It seriously reminds me of an out of control rock concert.

The referee is right down in the middle of the battle. How he’s not getting the holy shit knocked out of him, I have no idea. There are guys on the outside of the chain link cage on opposite sides of the octagon. I’m guessing that they are a coach or trainer maybe. The man furthest away is infuriated about the situation. He must be on the losing team. I really can’t tell which team that is because they both look like they’ve had the fuck beat out of them. The guy continues to hand on the side of the structure barking instructions and banging on the chains.

That’s when Justin just starts whaling on the other guy. Even though the other guy is getting the complete shit kicked out of him, there’s still an element grace and beauty to it all. Each strike is precise and controlled. Justin’s got blood running from a gash over his eye, but he doesn’t stop. With one swift move, he sweeps the guy's legs out from underneath him, and he crashes to the mat. Justin goes to the ground and wraps his legs around him, stretching the guy's arm backward. All the sudden, the guy starts banging his hand against the mat. Justin springs to his feet, and the referee raises his hand in victory; the crowd goes insane.

I sit here is total awe. I can’t believe that this gentle, caring guy that I see can do that kind of damage. To single-handedly annihilate someone like that. It’s not like the other dude is some kind of pansy ass either. He’s at least a head taller than Justin, if not more. His arms are bigger than my thighs. I mean seriously, this fucking guy is built like a fucking semi.

I notice movement out of the corner of my eye when Justin sits down next to me on the arm of the couch. I tear my gaze from the TV and watch Justin. The expression on his face is so intent and proud. I look back at the TV and then back toward him.

He looks down at me. “What?”

“You. That’s you. That’s you who just kicked the fucking shit out of that beast.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, well I got a pretty good beating too.”

Justin moves Bruce and sits next to me. “See that gash above my eye?”

“Yeah?”

“Eight stitches right there.” He turns his head so that I can see the scar.

I run my finger gently over the slightly raised pink flesh. Justin’s face is once again just inches from mine, teasing me. I want to taste him. I want to be consumed by him. My heart begins to beat faster as my breathing becomes shallow. He doesn’t move away from my touch, so I lean into him ever so slightly. Our lips are so close that I can feel his breath against my skin. I run my hand down the side of his face stopping at his jaw. He doesn’t move, yet I’m nervous that he’s going to reject me. I want him so much. More than anything else. I don’t think I can go without him for another minute.

My eyes move from his smoldering stare to his lips and then back again. Slowly I lean into him until finally, our lips connect. The kiss starts out slow and soft. Our tongues leisurely begin to explore and dance together. Putting my hand on his chest, I can feel his accelerating heartbeat beneath my palm. His breath is as quick and shallow as mine. My God, there’s that fabulous ‘zing’ again. We pull away from each other and Justin rests his forehead against mine.

In a desperate, breathy voice, he calls out my name. “Sarah.”  

I don’t respond, only start to slide my hand slowly down his chest. Like a blind person, I trace each and every line of his rippling muscles. When I get to the top of his pants, I hear him take in a quick breath and feel his body shudder.

I slip my hand beneath the waistband and take his hard cock into my hand. Wrapping my hand around his massive shaft and begin to slowly move it up and down. The movement causes pains to shoot through my rib cage. I think it would take a bullet to my head to make me stop. Pulling his pants away with my other hand, allows me to reach down to the base of his cock and balls.

There are droplets of come glistening on his beet red pulsating head. I pull my head away from his, and he watches as I slowly slide the soft, warm liquid around the head of his dick. I take his balls into my other hand and begin to rub and squeeze them as I start to stroke him again.  

My nipples are hard, and my clit is throbbing. He lets out a low groan, and I feel him tense up under my hands. This only causes the fire within me to build. Not only do I want him to consume me, but I want to consume him. I want to be the reason that he loses all control. I make my grip tighter and begin to pump harder and faster. His hips move to my rhythm. I remove my hand from his balls until I can tell that he is about ready. Then with my one ambitious squeeze, he leans his head back starts to cum. I want to taste him, so I lean down the best I can and run my tongue over the head of his dick, being sure not to miss a single drop.

I’m feeling quite proud of myself, but there’s no time for that when the throbbing between my legs is the only thing I can focus on. Right then, Justin removes my hands from him, adjusts his pants, and turns away from me.

He puts his head in his hands. “You shouldn’t have done that, Kitten. I shouldn’t have let you. I’m sorry.”

My heart sinks to the floor. It feels like someone just ran a blade from stem to stern, letting my guts spill to the floor. He’s rejecting me. I’m so humiliated and horrified. Bile starts rising in my throat. I clasp my hand over my mouth trying not to throw up. I have to get the fuck out of here. I’ll crawl out on my hands and knees if I must. I was right all along. I’m just some kind of charity case or game to him. Like he’s doing the world some huge favor by showing the poor little fucked up girl some attention. I know the truth. There’s no fucking way in hell that this guy or any guy in their right mind would want anything to do with a cluster fuck like me. Well, I can just help him out by getting the fuck out of here.

Justin is still sitting there with this head in his hands not saying a fucking thing. Which is just infuriates me. I hate fucking this mess of emotions that are running through me so much. Mortification, helplessness, worthless, anger, total overwhelming sadness. Worst of all, heartbroken. I’m pretty sure that I’m falling in love with him. Dear God, why can’t I just fade away? Or maybe this is all just another horrid dream. Wake up, Sarah! Please, Sarah, wake up and make this all disappear.

I feel like a volcano getting ready to erupt. I can’t hold it for a minute longer. Taking a deep breath to try and collect myself. “I don’t know what kind of fucking game you think you’re playing. Maybe you feel obligated because you were the poor bastard that some pathetic piece of shit turned to after her daddy beat the fuck out of her. Well, let me just free you from any responsibility that you might feel. I’ll be out of here in just a bit, and you won’t have to fucking ever lay eyes on me again!”

It startles me when he leaps to his feet. In a thunderous angry voice. “Your mother fucking dad did this to you? Why didn’t you tell me? Jesus fucking Christ, Sarah! I know back at the house you said you didn’t want to talk about it. Well, now you have no choice. Damn it, Sarah, why in the fuck would your dad do this to you?”

“Justin, please, no.”

He sits down next to me and takes my hand in his. “Sarah, please tell me.”

“Fine.”

I tell the entire sick story of what happened the night my mom and sister were killed and how dad blamed me. And showed me exactly how much he blamed me every chance he got.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry. How could he ever blame you for any of what happened? How could he do this to you? I knew you didn’t want to be pushed that day about who did this to you. But your fucking Dad. I thought… Fuck, I don’t know what I thought. How fucking stupid am I?”

 Justin sits for a moment then stands up and starts pacing back and forth in front of me. His fists are clenched so hard that his knuckles are pure white and his face is beet red. He’s so mad it’s scaring me. My heart is racing as fight or flight kicks in.

I don’t want to do this. He obviously has some phobia of any sexual connection with me. The only thing he seems to want to fuck is my head, and now he knows my dirty little secret. I get up off the couch, he comes over and towers over me. Why would he give a fuck if it were my dad or some stranger that did this? Why does it matter?

He’s shaking as he stands there. “Please, sit back down.”

“I don’t think so, Justin. I’m leaving. I’m done with this… I don’t even know how to describe what the fuck this is right here between us. Just get out of my way and let me get my stuff.”

I hear him take a deep breath then he places his hands on my shoulders. In a calm voice. “Sarah. Sit down, please.”

Crossing my arms I spout out with anger. “Why, what’s the fucking point? Haven’t you humiliated me enough? You act all concerned and caring one second, and then if I touch you you’re all ‘Noooo, you shouldn’t have done that.' You want to humiliate me some more? Well, I don’t think that’s possible. But, yeah, okay, let’s go ahead and do this.”

He’s still holding onto my shoulders. I guess I don’t have a choice, so I sit back down. Bruce jumps up on the couch laying right next to me. I begin to pet him turning all my focus on him. I’m shocked when Justin gets down on his knees in front of me.

Placing his hand under my chin forcing me to look up at him. “I’m sorry I got so mad. Okay, I’m not sorry, but that’s my problem. Not yours. I’m not mad at you. I’m fucking beyond livid at him. I don’t understand how he could do this to his daughter. I get why you didn’t want anyone to know, but I wish you would have at least told me. You didn’t have to hide that from me. You don’t ever have to hide anything from me. You never have to be ashamed or embarrassed with me.”

He takes my hands in his and rubs his thumb softly across the top of my hand. “Now this shit about you being a charity case or some kind of game to me. That’s fucking bullshit and couldn’t be further from the truth. I hope the day comes that I can show you in a way that you believe me. Without a question of a shadow of a doubt, you believe me.”

I couldn’t be more confused than I am right now. I want to believe him so bad. I really do, but, how can I? Is it even possible that he’s telling me the truth? Or am I falling for some warped game again? Am I so fucking desperate for real love and affection that I’ll just continue to fall for the same song and dance? I don’t see why I’m even wondering that. Look at my entire life. Holding on to the past. Hoping that things will change. They never have, so why would this situation be any different?

I watch as his thumb continues to caress my hand. “What about the sex, Justin? You wish I hadn’t done what I did? Why? What in the hell does that mean?”

He rubs his palms across his temples. “I don’t know how to explain it to you. It’s just something that means a lot to me.”

“Okay, fine, it’s something that means a lot to you, but it confuses the fuck out of me. Is it me? Is there something wrong with me? Am I repulsive to you?”

Justin chuckles. “Um, I think my rock hard cock and me coming in an embarrassing amount of time should tell you that I do not find you repulsive in the slightest. Look, I’ve asked you before if you trusted me. You said you did, is that still true?”

Shrugging my shoulders I tell him. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, that’s not super convincing, but I guess it will have to do for now. Does that mean you’ll stay?”

Pressing the heels of my hands into my forehead as if the pressure will help clear my thoughts. My frustration shows in my voice. “Shit, I don’t know.”

“Please, Sarah. You have to give us a chance.”

There’s nothing I want more than for this all to be on the up and up. “Okay, I guess so. Are you positive you want me to stay?”

“Damn straight I do. No question about it.”

Justin gets to his feet. He’s trying to appear calm, but I can tell he’s far from it. I hope that I’m not making a mistake by agreeing to stay.

Rubbing his hands together vigorously. “Okay, now that’s settled. I umm… I got a call from work when I was cleaning up the kitchen. There’s some kind of problem, I’ve got to go take care of.”

He’s pacing around as if he’s looking for something or trying to figure something out. “Is there anything you need?”

“No, thank you, I’m good. Are you okay?”

Justin starts heading toward the hallway. “Oh yeah, everything will be fine once I get shit taken care of.”

He’s only gone for a few minutes, but when he comes back into the living room, his entire demeanor has changed. He doesn’t seem pissed or distracted anymore. He is focused and all business. He grabs his truck keys off the counter and heads for the door.

He walks back to me. “You good? Are we good? And you’ll be here when I get back?”

I can’t help but smile at him. He acts like he truly wants me to stay. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

He gives me a kiss then heads out. Before he steps out the door, he looks at Bruce. “You got this?”

Bruce lets out a bark, then he snuggles back into my side as if nothing special was going on. I hear the sound of Justin’s truck start, then the sound quickly fades away.

As I watch Justin’s fight a couple more times, I’m still in awe at the skill and power this man has. The very same man who was down on his knees a while ago wanting me to stay. Bruce starts snoring, and it makes me realize that a nap doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea. I make myself as comfortable as possible without disturbing Bruce and close my eyes.

Pain shoot’s though my body as it makes contact with a concrete wall. He grabs a handful of my hair. I swear I can hear my skull cracking as my head is repeatedly slammed into the wall.  “You worthless fucking cunt. Do you really think that he cares about you? That anyone could care about a piece of trash like you. You are so fucking delusional it’s not even funny. God, you are one stupid bitch!”

“Please, Dad. Stop! You’re hurting me,” I cry.

He continues to slam my head into the concrete. “I don’t give a fuck if I’m hurting you. You deserve to be hurt. You deserve to be fucking dead,” he says, sneering at me.

I hear a knocking in the background. I try to scream for help, but the words won’t leave my body. Someone is covering my mouth. I try to cry out again, but nothing happens. I can’t see what’s going on around me. What the fuck is going on? My clothes are being ripped from my body, and my legs are being pulled apart. That’s when I hear the laughter and feel the pulling and biting on my skin. Oh, God, no! This can’t be happening again. The banging is getting louder, and I hear someone calling my name again and again. Suddenly, I’m able to open my eyes and standing directly in front of me is a faceless man. Looking to the left of me I see a Jeep crashed into a wall with smoke rolling from the engine. Just a few feet away from that is the mangled bodies of my mom and sister. The sound of sirens blaring in the background is deafening, but even over the top of it, I can still hear my name being called.

“Sarah.” Someone’s calling for me, but I don’t know who.

“Sarah.”

I look back at the man standing in front of me, but now he’s pointing a gun at my head. He turns the gun on himself and pulls the trigger. Blood and chunks of brain matter cover my face.

“Sarah, are you home?”

My eyes shoot open, and I take a gasp of air as if I were drowning. I’m covered in sweat. My heart feels like it’s going to explode right out of my chest and I can barely breathe. There’s a knock at the door, and someone is calling my name. Holy shit, I’m okay. It was only a nightmare. Fuck, I’m okay. I’m safe. Everything’s alright.

“Sarah. It’s Darla. Are you home?”

“Yeah! I’m coming, just a second,” I call out.

I have no idea who Darla is but by Bruce’s reaction I guess he does. I make my way to the door, and when I open it, Bruce goes running out to a cute little girl who instantly starts petting him. I would guess she’s probably about ten year’s old, having long brown hair, and the most beautiful blue eyes. There’s so much life and light in them that they dance and sparkle. They remind me a lot of Stella’s.

“Hi, I’m Darla!” She exclaims. “I live next door. If Justin’s not home, I take Bruce for a walk before and after school.” She holds out a leash, then snaps it to Bruce’s collar.

“Hi, Darla. I’m Sarah, Justin’s friend.”

“Yeah, I know who you are. I was outside playing when Justin left, and he told me he had someone very special staying with him. That I was to check in on you.”

The expression on her face is one of those like she just let the cat out of the bag. Very quickly she says, “I’ll have him back in about in a couple of hours if that’s alright. He loves to go to the dog park and play with all his friends. Personally, I think he has a crush on the Dawson’s poodle.”

“Okay, sounds good. Umm…I think, you two have fun?” I say it as more of a question.

As Bruce and Darla head down the sidewalk, she calls back. “Don’t worry. We do this all the time.”

I look at the clock and see that it’s already five. Man, I can’t believe I slept that long. However, my body feels like I slept that long, everything is stiff and sore. It’s obvious that my pain meds have worn off. I grab some of the ibuprofen and a bottle of water that Justin left on the end table and head back to the bathroom. I think that a hot, relaxing bath is exactly what I need right now.

  The hot water feels so good against my aching body that I stay in the tub long after my skin has turned wrinkly. Opening the bathroom door, I stick my head out to see if Justin’s home yet. I’m a little surprised that I’m still alone. I find my clothes, get dressed, and return to the living room. I wander around a little bit, finding myself back at the beautiful wedding picture. I stand there for the longest time, imagining what it was like at that very moment. All the guests gathered around the happy couple. Throwing rice as they walk down the church sidewalk. Then all the single ladies gathering around, hoping that they are the lucky person to catch the bride’s bouquet with all the magic that it holds. The happy couple gets into a sleek, black stretch limo that takes them to a destination where they’re the only two people in the world.

I jump when I hear someone calling my name from the living room. “Ms. Sarah.”

“Yeah, I’m back here.”

Bruce comes running down the hallway leash still attached and jumps up on me. He’s panting and wiggling his butt acting so happy to see me.

Darla comes running down the hall behind him. “Bruce! Don’t jump on Ms. Sarah, she’s hurt.”

“It’s okay, Darla. It’s kind of nice to be missed.”

Darla grabs my hand and leads me back to the living room. “I saw that Justin wasn’t home yet. When I told my grandma, she said that I had better bring you over some dinner. I hope it’s okay. I said that I would eat dinner over here with you and Bruce.”

I’m not sure how to deal with young people. I don’t have anything to offer them. I’m sure that if her parents knew what kind of mess I was, they would keep Darla as far away from me as possible. But they don’t and what am I going to say to this little blue-eyed wonder. No, she can’t stay. Even though I would only like to curl up and watch TV until Justin comes home.

Nervously looking around the room, I tell her, “Well, sure. I guess you can stay.”

Darla instructs me to have a seat on the couch. I feel like that couch has a permanent indentation of my ass. She’s so excited that I don’t want to hurt her feelings by asking if we could go in the kitchen, so I do as she asks and have a seat on the couch. Bruce makes his way up and sits at my side like he too is waiting to be served. Darla opens the basket and starts taking out huge containers of food. When she opens the large plastic container, and the aroma of homemade lasagna and garlic bread fills my nose, my mouth instantly waters. I had no idea that I was even hungry. My stomach growls so loud that Darla starts laughing and Bruce looks at me with wonder.

I feel my face turning red. “Sorry, Darla. Guess I’m a little hungrier than I thought.”

She lets out a girly giggle. “Oh Ms. Sarah, that’s okay. I do the same thing when I come home from school and smell grandma making this. It’s so yummy,” she beams.

Darla goes over to a closet right inside the door and brings out two TV trays. It’s obvious that she’s done this before. When I ask her if I can help she insists that I just stay put, that she’s got it. She puts the trays side by side in front of the couch. I find it a little odd how she knows her way around Justin’s apartment so well.  Once she has the food dished out on paper plates, napkins and plastic-ware set out, she stands back to admire her work.

`She looks very proud of herself.

“This looks wonderful Darla. Thank you so much.”

Darla makes her way around the tables. “Come on, Bruce, you big lug head. Get down. You gotta make some room for me.”

He doesn’t act like he’s going to move, so she lures him down off the couch with a piece of garlic bread. He reluctantly gives up his spot and gobbles down the bread. Darla and I sit in awkward silence for a while until I make the mistake of breaking it.

“This is so delicious. Be sure to tell your grandma I said thank you!”

That was all it took to open the chatterbox floodgates. “I know, right? It’s one of Justin’s favorites. That’s why grandma put some extra in there so that he can have some when he gets home.”

I don’t want to seem to pry into too much of Darla’s life, but I’m curious as to why she lives with her grandma. “So how do you know Justin?”

“Oh, my grandma used to run a grocery store, and Justin worked there. She would always take me to the store with her, and if I’d get crabby, Justin would hold me. He would carry me around with him while he worked. She said he was magical because I would always stop crying whenever he held me. ‘Oh, what a good kid he is.’ She always says. It’s so funny because Justin’s not a kid.”

“Where’s he at anyway? Man, he sure did leave in a hurry!”

I do my best to talk even though I have just shoved an oversized bite into my mouth. “Work. He said there was a problem that he had to deal with.”

“Hmm.” Is her only response before she starts asking a shit ton of random questions. Most of them are harmless. Things like where I met Justin, which leads to where I work. Then she wants to know all about being a waitress and if I get to eat and drink anything I want for free. I get the biggest response out of her when I answer what my favorite cartoon is in my best Scooby Doo voice. She laughs so hard. It's a fabulous sound.

We have been finished with our meal for quite a while, but I am having fun playing this twenty questions game. Then with my best Goofy impression, I tell her it’s my turn. She starts to laugh again. I do love that sound. It makes me think of Stella, wondering if that is what she would have sounded like if she would have lived. I feel my eyes start to get watery.

“Ms. Sarah, why do you look like you’re going to cry? Are you okay?”

I wipe a tear that strayed away with the palm of my hand. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just ghosts from the past.”

She gets a wild look in her eyes. “Ghosts?”

“Oh no, honey, there’s not really ghosts. It’s just an old saying that means you are thinking about something that happened a long time ago.”

I make the quick decision to change the subject. “Can I ask you a question, Darla?”

“Sure. Only if I can ask you one.”

I guess that she likes our little game as much as I do. “Why do you always refer to me as Ms. Sarah?”

“Oh, that was something that we did in preschool, and it kinda stuck. Grandma says it shows respect, but I think it just sounds cool.” She grins.

Nodding my head, I agree with her. “Yeah, it does sound pretty cool. Okay, now it’s your turn.”

Darla looks down at the couch hesitating. I figure she’s trying to come up with a whopper of a trivia question. Then she looks me right in the eye. “Who beat you up, and why did they do that to you?”

Bam! Sledgehammer right to the forehead. I sure wasn’t expecting that. How in the fuck do I answer that question? It’s not like I have any experience talking to a ten-year-old, let alone serious talk with one.

I sit here searching for something to say to her that won’t traumatize the fuck out of her. “Well, I guess someone was just really, really upset with me and didn’t know any other way to deal with it.”

Her little face looks so concerned. “So, do you know the person or was it a stranger? One time I heard grandma say she ought to kick someone’s butt when they cut her off when she was driving. Was it like that? Did you cut someone off and they kicked your butt?”

I hold my arms out, and she scoots in next to me. “Yeah, Sweetie. It was something like that.”

She looks up at me. “You’ll never have to worry about that happening again if Justin’s with you.”

She lets out a long yawn. “Me and you, we’re his girls, ya know? He won’t ever let anything bad happen to us.”

I sit there running my fingers through her hair. The words that she said keep repeating through my head. ‘Me and you, we’re his girls, ya know? He won’t ever let anything bad happen to us.’ 

The sound of the door clicking shut wakes me up. The room is dark, only the light from the clock on the DVR shines a path of light across the room. I look over to make sure that it’s Justin and not some crazy coming into the house. I have no idea what I would do if it weren't him. It’s not like I can move all that well to begin with let alone protect us. Add Darla laying in front of Bruce and me laying on my feet. I’m not going anywhere. Yeah, we’d be goners.

“Sorry, Kitten. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“That’s okay. What time is it?” I try to wiggle my way out of the conglomeration of arms and legs.

 “Umm, it’s about three,” he whispers.

“Seriously. Damn, I’m sorry you had to work so late. If you’re hungry, Darla’s grandma sent over some lasagna. I can warm it up for you.”

“Thanks, but no. I just want to go to bed, it was a long ass day. But in the end, it was all worth it.” Justin comes over and gently scoops Darla up into his arms.

“You’re not taking her home at this hour, are you?”

“No, I told grandma that I didn’t know for sure what time I would be home. She said that it was alright for her just to sleep here.”

My body still hurts not as bad as it did this morning. I’m a little slow getting up. “Go ahead and lay her back down, I have to use the bathroom. When I come back, I’ll just squeeze in around her.”

“Kitten. You’re sleeping in my bed with me tonight. I need you close. I need to know that you’re safe and that you’re not going anywhere.”

I notice the stress in his voice, and he must have too. He tries his best to change his tone, but I can tell it’s forced.

“Besides, this couch can’t be doing you any good.” Bruce jumps back up onto the couch and sprawls out. “Darla and Bruce can have it all to themselves. By the looks of it, I doubt they’ll leave you much room.”

“Yeah, okay. Justin, is everything alright?”

He lays Darla down on the couch and covers her up. “I’m just tired.”

Bruce wastes no time snuggling back in. I step into Justin wrapping my arms around his waist, putting my head on his chest. He rests his hands on my hips, kisses the top of my head, then pulls me in closer. His body is tense, but as we stand here wrapped in each other’s arms, I feel him start to relax.

He buries his face into my neck and takes in a deep breath. “My God, you smell fantastic.”

I look up at him. “Thank you, I think.”

“Trust me. It’s a good thing. He’s smiling as he pulls away and takes my hand in his. “Come on, Kitten, let’s get some sleep.”

I loop my arm through Justin’s for a little extra stability as we walk down the dark hall. When we get to the bathroom door, he stops, holds out his arm gesturing that I can go in. “Your destination my dear.”

I do the best curtsey I can manage. “Thank you, kind Sir. What, are you not going to stand here, watching thus making me feel tremendously uncomfortable?”

I can feel his body move as he chuckles. “I can if you’d like.”

Whoa, didn’t expect that response from him. “Nope, I’m good.”

He reaches in and turns on the light then he heads down the hall. I watch him walk away and disappear into the bedroom before closing the bathroom door. Gazing at myself in the mirror, I’m happy to see that the swelling has gone down some. But the bruises are still red and angry looking. I dread the thought of what they’ll look like in a few days.  Oh well, it is what it is. Nothing I can do about it. I don’t even want to think about any of that shit right now. All I want to do is focus on the fact that once again I get to have Justin right next to me for an entire night, well for at least a few hours.  

I am worried about Justin though. I have a feeling in the pit of my stomach that something's just not right with him. The feeling is so strong. I can’t ignore it. It’s not the normal feeling that I usually have. Like I’ve done something wrong. This is different, strange, and completely abnormal for me. His body was so full of stress when I first wrapped my arms around him. Every muscle was so tense that it felt like I was embracing a steel pillar. But the longer I held him, the more relaxed he became. Like I was something good for him that I was making all his wrongs right.

The more I think about it. I decide that I’m not going to pester him about it. I’m just going to let it go. Maybe he is tired. I mean, shit, he did work half the night, and he seems to have lightened up a bit. If there is something wrong, I will be there for him if or when he wants to talk about it.

I hurry and finish up in the bathroom. I don’t want to waste one precious moment with him. There’s a low, soft light coming from the bedroom. When I get into the room, the covers on the bed are turned down. Justin is standing in front of a dresser with his gorgeous back to me in only a pair of boxer shorts that are hanging off his waist. My eyes run up and down his glorious body. I don’t know why I insist in torturing myself. I must like it because I begin to imagine him sliding is cock into me over and over. Instantly, my clit starts to throb, and I can feel moisture building between the folds of my pussy. My nipples are so hard that they fucking hurt.

“Hey, you.”

He doesn’t turn around. “Hey, you. You can have whichever side of the bed you’ll be most comfortable.”

“Thanks. Are you sure? I mean, it’s your bed.”

“From now on it’s our bed. You get settled. I’ve got to use the bathroom really quick. Do you need help getting into bed? Pain meds, something to drink, or anything while I’m up?”

It’s odd, he still hasn’t turned around, and he keeps digging through his dresser drawers. From here it looks like he has already laid everything out that he could need for tomorrow. Hell, maybe for the next week.

“No, I’m good, but thank you. Hey, while you’re digging around for your clothes for the next week, don’t you have any old man pajamas in there?”

He laughs. “Nope. You’re lucky I have these on, I normally sleep naked.”

I smack my pillow. “Ugh! Really? Just had to go there, didn’t ya?”

“Yep, sure did.”

I’m trying to get comfortable when Justin starts walking toward the door. I get a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. Something just doesn’t seem right. His entire demeanor is different. He’s got his head turned away from me like he’s trying to hide something.

“Justin.”

He stops mid step but still doesn’t face at me. “Turn around and look at me.”

He turns around very slowly. That’s when I see what he’s been hiding. “Oh my God! What the fuck happened to your face?”

Even in the dim light, I can see from here that it’s black and blue, and his eye is almost swollen shut. There’s a huge gash running along the side of his eye with dried blood staining his cheek.

I start to get out of bed, Justin holds his hand up for me to stop. “It’s alright. It’s barely a scratch, don’t worry about it.”

“What do you mean don’t worry about it? Barely a scratch my ass! Justin, you have a fucking gash on the side of your face. I can tell from here that you need stitches. We need to get you to the emergency room.”

He comes over and sits down on the bed next to me. “I’m not going to the hospital. It’ll be just fine. Trust me it’s not my first time with a black eye and a little cut. It’s nothing that a butterfly bandage won’t take care of. Besides, I don’t think you have any room to talk about going or not going to the hospital.”

“Justin, that’s more than just a black eye and a little cut. It looks like someone smacked you in the side of the face with a fucking shovel.”   

When he doesn’t respond, I’m instantly pissed. I swear my blood is boiling, and I can see nothing but red. “Jesus! Fuck, Justin. Did someone smack you in the face with a fucking shovel? Were you attacked? What happened?”

I reach forward toward his face. I hold my hand just inches away not wanting to touch it but wanting to somehow make it better. My anger is so intense right now that tears start to fall my cheeks.

“Don’t cry. Really it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not a big deal? Well, it’s a huge fucking deal to me!” My tears are falling uncontrollably now. I wipe my eyes in anger and take a deep breath to calm down.

“Look, Justin, I know you can take care of yourself, and I can’t even begin to imagine what the other fucker looks like. But seriously, I want to fuck a bitch up so bad right now I can’t even see straight. Nobody and I mean fucking nobody, hurts someone I care about,” I warn.

Justin takes my hands in his. His voice is calm and collected, but his body language says different and is speaking volumes. I can tell that he’s as serious as hell right now. His knee starts bouncing as if he’s trying to release energy anyway possible. His face is turning red, his jaw’s clenched and the veins in his neck are bulging out.

“Calm down, Kitten.”

He raises one eyebrow, and in a very mocking voice. “Trust me. I know exactly how you feel.”

I roll my eyes at him. Even though it irritates me, it’s true. I’ve got nothing for a comeback.

“Hey, I didn’t get the worse end of the situation by any means. It’s not something I’m proud of, but in this particular situation, I wanted to beat the fuck out of this mother fucking bastard so bad. I wanted him to know exactly what it felt like. At least physically. I wanted to annihilate him. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to hurt anyone this bad before in my entire life. On my way to find him, I couldn’t stop thinking about how incredible it would feel to give this guy what he deserved. Then I started wondering if giving him what I believed he deserved would make me the exact same type of monster that I thought he was.”

I look into his stressed eyes. “Justin, there’s no way you could ever be the same type of monster this guy is. I don’t even know what he did, but I know that you could never be any kind of monster. You are the most decent person I’ve ever met. You’re a person who looks for the best in other people. I’d bet my life that you’d give a person in need the shirt off your back. I mean, look what you’ve done for me. You opened your home to me to get me out of a heinous situation that you had nothing to do with.”

Right here in this very moment, it strikes me so hard, as if someone has just hit me in the face with a shovel. “Wait, I thought you were at work.”

He doesn’t answer, only looks at the floor.

“Justin, what or who was the situation that you went to take care of?”

He squeezes my hand tight not moving his gaze. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I swear I tried talking to your dad. I did, but he didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. It just pissed him off, and he ended up taking a swing at me. I stepped out of the way, and he missed. That pissed him off even more, so he came at me again, but his time I stopped him. I stopped him with my fist… To his face... Several times.”

I jerk my hands away from Justin clasping them over my mouth. Tears roll down my cheeks like a damn has just broke. The look on Justin’s face is full of regret and sorrow. The last thing I want is for him to feel like he’s done something wrong or that I’m upset with him, but I can’t stop crying.

Justin gently grabs my face in his hands. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have even went to find him. I just couldn’t stand the thought of what he did to you. It made me so fucking crazy. I should have been the bigger man and walked away, or better yet I should have just left it alone and kept my fucking nose out of it. I have you here. I know your safe. That’s all that matters. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please, don’t cry. I’ll do whatever I have too. I want to make this up to you, to right my wrong.”

The knot in my throat and the continuous stream of tears keep me from speaking. All I can do to communicate with him is shake my head. I make a loud gasping sound as take a deep breath in trying to regain my composure.

Justin gets down on the floor in front of me. He lowers his head into my lap and then looks up at me. “Please, forgive me, I’m begging you. I’m so fucking sorry.” I swear I hear his voice break as he speaks and he lowers his head in shame. I start running my fingers through his hair.

“Justin, there’s nothing for me to forgive. I’m not mad about what you did. I’m not mad about anything. I’m….”

He looks up at me. His beautiful brown eyes are glassy. There’s hopefulness and a little confusion in his voice. “You’re not mad?

My throat feels like a boa constrictor has coiling itself around it trapping my words. It takes a couple of moments before I can continue. Justin's watching me intently the entire time.

“I’m touched, honored, moved, fucking overwhelmed, to say the least. There has never been anyone in my life who has ever done anything like this for me. My friends have tried, I wouldn’t let them. Hell, I wouldn’t even do anything about it myself. The truth is, outsiders just have always looked the other direction and pretend that everything was just fucking sunshine and flowers. Then talk about my toxic, decaying world behind my back.”

Humiliation and shame seep into my soul. Saying it aloud, admitting it makes me have to take ownership of my own self-destructive lifestyle. “Leila, Amie, and the girls always wanted to do something. One time Leila and Amie were headed out the door each carrying a baseball bat to go teach him a thing or two. Until I stopped them. Telling them that it wasn’t worth it and promised that things would get better. Then the next time something happened, they begged me to go to the police, but I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t let them do it either. It got to the point that I was so tired of promising that things would get better while deep down knowing that they wouldn’t. So, I just started making up stories as to how I got the bruises or cuts. I thought I deserved everything I got. I held onto the illusion that once I’d paid the price that he had chosen for me that he would stop. That life would go back the way it was before…”

I feel my body trembling uncontrollably. Justin takes my hand and moves from the floor to the bed and sits right next to me. He wraps his strong arms around me and rests his head on my shoulder. In his arms is the one place in this world that I truly feel safe.

He whispers in my ear, “Everything’s going to be alright. I promise. No one will ever hurt you again.” He leans back from our embrace carefully wiping my remaining tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Do you understand me?”

Accentuating each word. “No one will ever hurt you again.”

Nodding my head yes, I lean into him and gently press my lips to his. It isn’t a devouring I want to fuck your brains out kiss. Our connection right this minute is at a totally different level. It is very tender, slow, and affectionate. There’s a feeling deep within my soul that makes me believe every word he said. No one will ever hurt me again.  

I pull away, looking directly into his eyes. “Thank you. From the deepest parts of my being. Thank you.”

The smile on his face is genuine and heartfelt. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

Justin tucks me into bed and heads out of the room, but not before stopping in the doorway, looking back at me for just a moment with the most content look on his face. He’s gone for only a few minutes. He’s cleaned the blood from his face and has a bandage over the cut. He gets into bed, carefully pulling me into his arms. I snuggle into his embrace.

“Sarah, I know that what you’ve shared with me was huge for you. Thanks so much for telling me, and I’m sorry for the situation we were in when you told me.”

He’s right, what I’ve shared or better yet confessed has been of epic proportions for me. But to be honest, it felt good. No, it felt amazing to be able to put that kind of soul sucking demon out into the universe and not have the ground open up and swallow me whole. Better yet, not to be judged or ridiculed for it.

It’s so hard to believe that just earlier today I was ready to get my shit and leave. Knowing that for sure that I was just a pawn in some sick game he was playing. But now, knowing what he did. I know that he is everything I had hoped he was. It has crushed every sick doubt I had about him. About us.  

Justin tightens his arms around me. “I know you’ve probably heard this before. That accident wasn’t your fault. There’s only one person at fault, and that’s the bastard who was driving the vehicle that hit them. Now, as far as how life was handled after the accident. That fault lies totally on your dad’s shoulders. You were just a kid. A kid who just lost her mom and sister. It was your dad’s job to stand up and be a man. His job was to take care of his family. You, you were his family. It was his job, not yours.”

I repeatedly trace the ink that lines his arms that cradle me. “You know just what to say don’t you?”

“Know this about me. I don’t just say bullshit to make a situation better. I mean every word I say. And I’m going to tell you again. It wasn’t your fault. You don’t ever have to worry about that bastard again.”

Soft light starts to peek through the windows. Justin pulls the blankets up over our shoulders and wraps his arm back around me. Kissing the back of my shoulder. “Come on, Kitten, let’s get some sleep.”