Chapter Four

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As the sun began to flicker behind my closed lids, I begrudgingly decided to get up

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As the sun began to flicker behind my closed lids, I begrudgingly decided to get up. As I went to move though, I realized I was entangled with another person. Remington. I softly ran my calloused hand over her cheek. Moving the long strands of black hair away from her face, that took on a soured expression as the tresses tickled against her full mauve lips. I couldn't help the smile that brought to my own.

That smile was short lived for two reasons though. The first one was because my busted lip started throbbing. It was fighting in tandem with my heart at a steady beat. The second was the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. I knew it had to be Remi's dad coming in to check on her. I had never been in her room when the sun came up and painted the sky in a bright red and yellow. The colors were obstructing a dance filtering in through her bedroom window.

Slowly as I could, I moved the dark-haired beauty over so I could make a fast escape out of her bed. Only I wasn't fast enough, was I? I should have never stayed here. No matter how much this girl felt like mine. No matter if her room felt more like home than my own did. No matter what injustice was waiting for me.

She was my only piece of heaven. An unwavering solitude that held me up against the shaky ground. That kept me steady when all the world around me was vastly losing its traction. 

As soon as I was up though, her bedroom door began to gradually open. I knew we were caught. I rubbed the ache from my chest at the thought of her getting into trouble. I was so stupid. I could handle the venom thrown my way from Daryle. What I couldn't handle was that sleeping beauty getting into trouble.

Her dad poked his head through the door. In one single moment different expressions took hold of his face. Ranging from pain, to anger, to what looked like understanding. That couldn't be though. Could it?

Very quietly, he whispered into the room, "Why don't you come in here so we can talk?"

That was never a good way to start a conversation with a girls dad. Especially a fifteen year old girl. I gave one last look in Remington's direction, then took off after her dad towards the living room.

When I made it in there, Mitchell was pacing the length of their small living room. Gearing up for what he was going to say to the boy who was crazy about his daughter.

Suddenly he stopped though. He began to look at me as if it were the first time. Then he spoke. "I know you spend many nights here. I see you, you know. Asleep in the middle of the night in her chair." He began his pacing again. "That's why I never said anything. And son I will tell you right now. I don't want to fight. Looks as if you get enough of that from your dad."

"Stepdad." I corrected. I didn't want to stop his rant, but Daryle was a far cry from my real dad.

He nodded his head up and down. Over and over again. Like maybe he was fitting the pieces of my puzzle together. "Your stepdad the one who took a bat to your Harley last night? The one who gave you that black eye, and busted lip?" Before I could even answer he was speaking again. "Of course, he is. Remi is the one who fixes you up. And he is the reason you don't sleep at your house?"

I nodded my head that time. "Yes sir." I responded. "Please don't be mad at Remi. I will take whatever punishment you give her freely. You want to hit me? Then do it. Don't yell at her. Yell at me."

He walked over to the window and looked over where my Harley sat in the driveway next door. My tires were flat, handlebars lying on the ground. Heck my engine was busted. It was going to take time and money that I didn't have to fix it. I was going to have to work more hours at a local garage to be able to pay for the parts I needed. I would do it though.

"Okay. So, this is what is going to happen. You can come here. You can stay here on the nights you need to. But let's make this clear. You sleep in the guest bedroom. I know Remi is crazy about you. I see the way she looks at you Zach." The way he said my name with such authority, I knew he was serious. That was fine though. I had every intention of leaving that girl as innocent as she could be.

Truth was, she was better than anyone I knew. Better than anyone else thought of being. That girl though, she held my hand like I was breakable. She had kissed me like I was water, and she was dying in the wilderness. That girl, she was the pen, and I was the paper. She would write all her heartfelt moments on my skin by mending me and making me whole again. And I would consume her ink as if it was the last pen to write on my tattered and empty pages.

"Yes sir." I replied again. I would do anything as long as he didn't make me leave that girl alone. I would've had to lie if he asked me to do that.

Before he could reply, a still very sleepy Remington walked into the living room. She stopped short when she saw her dad and me both sitting in here. Her eyes bounced back and forth several times, like she wasn't sure who was the bigger threat or who she needed to protect.

"Wh-what's going on guys?" Her voice was timid, and I hated that she thought she had to be scared. I never wanted her scared.

I went to stand up, but Mitchell put his hand out. Telling me he had this with no words. "We were just talking sweet pea. Why don't you get the first aid kit and clean the boy up? Looks like his lip is bleeding again. Also by the way he is holding his ribs, he may have some broken ones."

I didn't realize until that moment that I was holding my hand against my rib cage. I was too wrapped up in that brown eyed girl to even care what was going on with my own body.

Remi led the way to her bathroom and got the first aid kit out. "Take off your shirt." She said in a low voice. Like she wasn't sure if she could say that to me. This girl could tell me to run down the street in my boxers and I would probably do it.

As I lifted my shirt, I heard as her breath trembled coming out in spirts. She stood two feet away from me, shell shocked. I reached for her hand and as gently as I could, I placed her fingers against my ribs. My breathing was erratic. From the pain lacing through my body, or the feel of her soft hand against my skin. I wasn't sure.

"You may need to go to the doctor." Her eyes were watching as she was tracing her fingers along the massive bruise. When her eyes met mine though, I no longer cared about any pain. It would be a pain in and of itself if her lips weren't touching my own.

Harder than I should have, I twisted my hands in her long dark strands of hair and pulled her into me. When her lips met mine, she made a tiny noise, and I couldn't help but take it deeper. Feeling her cleave to me like I was the very breath she took, rattled a feeling of possessiveness inside of me. Suddenly I pulled away. I had no right to feel possessive. In my experience that only got me beat and torn down.

Her chest was rising and falling like she couldn't breathe enough air to fill up her lungs. Her lips were dotted in a pink tint, and I felt like a fool for kissing her when my lip was bleeding. I grabbed the washcloth sitting on the sink and began to wipe the blood away from her swollen lips.

Her hand clasped with the top of my own, and she pulled the washcloth away. "Why did you stop?"

Looking down at the blood dotted cloth, and back up to her flushed face, I gave her a small truth. "I told you I wanted to go slow. That was too fast for either one of us to even realize the consequences until it's too late."




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