Whiskey Scarred Angel

Chapter 23

Kristen

It's been 3 hours. 3 hours ago Jason stormed out my front door to go talk to my parents. The more time that passes the angrier I am getting. Maybe it's the wine wearing off. My parents have no business arguing with him about anything he's probably saying. If they'd just apologize and want to do better he would've been home at least an hour ago.

I'm almost asleep on the couch when he comes back. I'm trying to figure out how it went and his mood by the way he's walking through my house.

"Kris? You up?" His voice is soft and quiet. I pick my head up to see him.

"Course I am." Obviously I wasn't actually going to be able to sleep without hearing about it.

"I don't want this to offend you at all. But you got lucky you turned out the way you did growing up in a household with them."

"You think I don't know that? Why do you think I didn't want you to even try to talk to them?"

"I can handle people, I do it all day."

"I asked you not to get involved." I tell him with frustration laced in my voice.

"I don't care. I will always fight for you, your battles are mine too."

"Whatever. So what the fuck did they say? What did you say?" I ask and he sits down.

"Well, I didn't go in, I told them I wanted to talk on the porch so they came out. I said look, Kristens a grown ass women, she's smart, and she can make her own damn decisions. She doesn't need you two in her ear not only giving your opinions but degrading hers."

"You said all that?" Tears fog my eyes with tears, I don't know why. I guess hearing him be so protective over me makes me that happy and thankful.

"Pretty much word for word yup."

"What did they say?" I wipe away a tear quickly.

"Well at first they were claiming that's not what they do." He reaches over and pulls a tissue from the box on the end table beside him. He proceeds talking and wipes my tears away.

"When I asked them what about me is such a red flag for them to be with you, they hesitated a little but, I told them to just be honest with me so we can clear it up."

"What did they say?" I take a breath trying to calm myself down and then take the tissue from him so I can wipe my nose.

"They said my tattoos gave them a bad vibe."

"Seriously?" I get angry at the thought, they are so judgmental and stuck in their old thinking.

"Instead of pulling the card and saying they shouldn't judge a book by its cover...I instead showed them all of them individually and explained the meaning behind them all."

"And they listened?"

"Yeah. I said my tattoos aren't just to make me look like a badass. They're symbolic and permanent. I could put this stuff on a shirt sure but what about on the job? I have to wear a uniform, and when people see a cop they either automatically respect us or they want to kill us." He shrugs, and I don't even know what to say. I never knew that, I never even thought about asking him either.

"Did they get that?"

"Yeah, I mean they said that was a good point."

"So was that it? Just the tattoos? They're the reason they think I'm fucking crazy for wanting to move in with you?"

"They don't want to see you get hurt again like with Brett. I said...you do realize I saved her that night right?" I just shake my head at this entire conversation. I tell him I don't want to know anymore, at least not right now. I know there's more, whether he's even going to tell me the worst part that made him realize how lucky I got being normal or not. Right now, I don't have the energy to listen to it.