And that’s what I do. Slowly, I creep out of the car and walk over to where he’s leaning on the boot. He acknowledges I’m there, but doesn’t say anything. I walk forward, placing my arm through his, needing him to hold me. He stands as still as a statue at first, just smoking his cigarette. It’s not enough. I need him to hold me. I need him to wrap his arms around me and give me his acceptance. Yes, he is a monster, and yes I should be running. The only thing that’s stopping me from really fleeing from him is the fact that he’s the only man who has ever really taken care of me. He’s the only man who has shown me any love. I need to know he still feels it. I need to know he still has it in him to love me.
So, I grip tighter to him and snuggle my head into his chest. It works because, pretty soon, he discards his cigarette and wraps his arms around me in a warm embrace. I know when I think of what he’s done later on, I will hate myself. But for now, I just want to feel his tenderness.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he finally says, kissing the top of my head.
“Did I hurt your hand?”
“Yes.”
I can’t help the impish smile that forms. “Good.”
Pulling me away, he holds my head in his hands. “Don’t ever do that to me again. You got me to stop just then, but I can’t guarantee what will happen if you push me like that again.”
I search his dark eyes and nod. “I understand.”
“Do you?” he urges. “I don’t think you do … and it’s probably just as well.”
I frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Just don’t fucking run from me like that again. I won’t be held responsible.” Placing his forehead on mine, he sighs. “Fourteen weeks. Fourteen fucking weeks.” Pulling my head closer, he kisses me again, but this time it’s not out of anger or frustration. This kiss is the kiss I have yearned for ever since that day in the cinema two weeks ago. It’s the kiss I’ve been dreaming about getting every day since he swept me away. I can taste the cigarette on his breath, but instead of being repelled by it, I yearn for more.
“I can’t lose control around you,” he says, pulling away. “You make it so fucking hard.” He shakes his head. “I’m trying to keep away, but the closer it gets, the less control I have.”
Throwing my arms around his, I stand on tiptoe and kiss his neck. “Can I stay with you tonight?”
He grabs my arms and pulls me away from him. “I just told you I’m losing control, and now you want to stay with me?” He shakes his head again.
“I just thought that—”
“No,” he warns. “As much as I don’t fucking like it, I’m taking you back to your parents’ house.” He then pushes himself off the boot of the car and motions for me to get in.
This time, I willingly oblige without a murmur.
Age Fourteen
“Have you seen those men at your house since?”
I lick my ice cream, staring across at Drake. He looks handsome today with a casual pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Others have noticed it too. I see women looking at him, and for some reason, I don’t like it.
“No,” I answer. In fact, it’s been nice and quiet since that incident a few months ago. “Do you know who they are?”
Slouching back in his seat, he sighs. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“Who are they?”
“That doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t want to know who they are. Now, finish your ice cream. That’s all you should be concerned about.”
I suddenly get angry. “I’m not a child.”
“Oh, yes, you are. Despite the fact that you look older than you are, your age doesn’t lie. Believe me, I remind myself of your age every day.”
I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Just eat. I have a surprise for you once you’re done.”
My eyes light up, making him smile. “Really? What is it?”
“Finish your ice cream and I’ll take you.”
I bite my lip, trying to suppress my smile. It makes Drake laugh. I like making him laugh. “Okay,” I answer, relishing my ice cream. I’m suddenly raring to get going.
Once done, he leads me to his waiting car and we both get in the back seats together. It’s on the journey that I start thinking about Drake. He’s been a constant in my life for almost two years now, and for some reason, he likes spending time and money on me. It makes me wonder.
“Drake?”
“Yes,” he responds, giving me his undivided attention.
“Do you like spending time with me?”