Hazel Eyes and Peaches

chapter 18:

There is no better feeling than waking up in the arms of Clay Asher Pierce.

When I did wake, he had moved from between my legs through the next. I was curled up into his massive, muscular body. One arm was underneath me, holding my lower stomach gently, slightly pushing my back against him. His other tossed over my waist, hanging over me, his fingers seeming to reach for the top of my knee. 

Our legs intertwined underneath the covers, his whole body swallowing me into him with his face tucked into my neck. Being held like that was incredible, and even now as we sit on his couch with two cups of black tea in our hands, he holds me delicately. 

He places soft kisses down my neck and over my shoulders, his fingers brushing the smooth skin of my legs. Every once in and a while, his hand disappears up the loose shorts, he brushes way too close to my vagina and then brings it back down.

But it's not uncomfortable. It's perfect. And we are completely alone. His family went to some flower banquet thing for some charity I don't know the name of. He has never been into it and always says no, so they don't even ask him much anymore. So it goes. After last night with Westin, I figured he would need some background information about why he was the way he was. 

I told him about my mother, her brain tumor, and having to watch her succumb to it. She had been diagnosed with it way too late to get treatment for it, and she was only given a couple more years to live. 

I was six at the time, and life went well for about three years. And then at my birthday party, she just collapsed. She never woke up again, dying at age thirty-nine. I didn't even get to say goodbye. I would never hear her voice again. The last thing I ever did with her is argue about the size of the Batman costume she bought me for the theme of my party.

Then, my father comes in. My mother was the love of his life. They never wanted to be away from each other, both wanting to spend forever being together, and even debating if they were going to have another child. 

I remember my father bringing her flower every other day until they finally decided to plant a large tulip garden in the backyard. I remember them renewing their vows of a camping trip in the woods just because they wanted to. I remember how in love they were, so very much in love. 

And after she died, he was a completely different person. 

Half of his life, half of himself was gone. He was a shell of a man. Drinking, smoking, swearing up a storm. When he finally decided that I was the reason she was dead (which couldn't be true but there was no logic in him), he started to abuse me. At first, it was slaps on the face, but that quickly grew to all-out beatings.

And the cutting started. I wanted to take the other pain away and focus on one thing. I wanted to clear my head and release stress. It used to make me laugh. I would sit there with a razor in my hand and giggle as I took my thigh and cut thin lines. 

I got much better at not making too much of a mess, keeping the lines tidy and not too much blood, as I continued to do it often. Once or twice a day. It gave me everything I desired and deserved. 

My worthless body wasn't a match for the horrendous thoughts inside my head that I needed to silence. I got myself into toxic relationships through high school while my dad beat me at home. Westin wasn't around much, but he discovered that it was happening, he took me in as soon as he could.

"And after he took you in, you became a burden?"

"I was in and out of rehab and treatment a lot. It was expensive getting me the care I needed."

"I can't believe I didn't realize..."

"Realize what?"

"How much you've been through. I've been friends with Westin since I was fifteen, and he talked about you, but I had no idea."

"Fifteen? Didn't you guys meet this year?"

He sucks in a breath as if he's finally realizing his mistake. There is something I don't know about, something he's hiding from me. I sit up, pushing my body away from his, and turning myself to face him.

"What aren't you saying? When was this personal family issue?"

"I wasn't ready to say anything to you. I didn't want you to think ill of me or your brother."

"You lied to me, and my brother's an asshole. I already think ill of you both. I just opened my life to you, thinking I could trust you. What is going on?"

"I'm not lying when I say I'm eighteen, and I had personal family issues, and I know your brother, and I've worked with SCS."

"Worked for SCS?"

"When I was fifteen, Robin got into a bit of trouble with her ex. It ended up being a violent situation, and she and Cierra were forced to Michigan to make sure he couldn't hurt them. I was greatly involved in the process while working with Westin and the SCS. With my parent's permission, I was allowed to join the program young, and I've been working there ever since. I don't even need to be in high school anymore."

"So why are you?"