VOLKO

Chapter Thirty-Five

That night I didn't sleep, by five am I'd repacked my three times. The dress Dean gave me for the party, mocked me from the wardrobe. The same questions went round in my head. What would I tell the Cotton's? I'd wanted this to work out so much, I felt embarrassed that my father turned out just like my mother. No wonder the pair of them got together.

By seven the thoughts crammed into my brain needed a release. Cautiously, I tiptoed down to the swimming pool Dean had only showed me yesterday, the water felt warm as it filled around me.

With each length completed, the weight on my shoulders felt somewhat easier to manage. By no means had it gone, more that I'd developed the strength to carry it.

As I reached my fiftieth lap, the door opened. Because I was the only person in the room, the sound echoed, making it impossible to ignore said person.

I didn't need to see who it was, I knew from the goosebumps that covered my skin even in the warm water that it was Dean.

Just because I could, I carried on swimming another four laps, allowing him to wait. The hurt from last night felt just as raw as it had at the moment it happened. The sting from Robert's hand, Dean not acknowledging me.

Patiently Dean stood by the edge of the pool, he stood in his normal attire. His hands slung into his trouser pockets.

I stopped swimming just below him, I caught my breath for a moment, composing myself before I looked at him.

He looked effortlessly good-looking as always, that only annoyed me more. I'd spend the whole time pacing my room, trying to figure how my life had turned out so fucking bad. How I always ended up in these situations. I didn't want to be that moan bitch who complains that life isn't fair, but it really wasn't. I didn't deserve this crappy hand of parents I got.

"Can we talk?" Without answering, I swam to the ladder, forcing myself to face the music I hadn't even created.

As I climbed out the knot in my stomach got tighter. I accepted the towel Dean held out for me, careful not to touch him. The room probably felt cold, but I couldn't feel anything. My brain was too occupied playing out the versus scenarios which were about to take place.

"Your father has decided Conor is a better match to look after your safety. He'll be going with you today, and on any other future trips from here on in." Dean's voice was tight, like the words physically hurt him to say.

From this distance I could see how blood shot his eyes were, they matched my own tired ones. His face, although flawless, had the look of a man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

I'd seen Dean, pissed off, annoyed, nasty , cold and emotionless to name a few. Never have I seen him...down? He shifted uneasily on his feet, I watched as the conflict battled in his eyes. Confused about what to do or say. At least I wasn't the only one.

My fingers itched to reach out, to take some of that weight from him. But I couldn't, the memories of last night were too raw. They hurt far more than I was willing to let anyone believe.

"He can drop me off at the Cotton's, from then on I'm in safe hands. He can go home, I won't be coming back." The words I spoke aimed to hurt, I admitted shamefully. When Dean's eyes sharpened I knew I'd hit my target.

So he did care, just not enough to stop someone hurting me.

"You're not coming back, why?" Dean's hand lightly held onto my fingers, stopping me from escaping. The pressure was completely different to when Robert had roughly grabbed me yesterday. This felt like Dean was almost scared to touch me. Perhaps he was.

"My brother is self-centred and only cares for himself. And my dad backhanded me last night. I have nothing left to stay for."

"Stay for me."