Not What it Seems

Chapter Thirteen

~Cash~

When I woke up the next morning, the first thing that struck me was the silky brown hair fanned out over my chest, and the pale leg draped around mine.

Jane.

I lifted my head up slightly, looking down at her, and an immediate smile graced my face. She was beautiful.

We hadn't gone all the way last night, as badly as I wanted to. I wanted our first time to be special. I wanted to make love to her when she was ready and needed it the most.

"Cash?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Yeah, Beautiful?" I responded, sweeping my fingers through her hair.

"I should go home."

I sighed. An enormous part of me didn't want to let her go after everything she'd told me the previous night. I didn't want her to go back to her life. I wanted her to stay in mine.

"Yeah," I said, instead of what I was thinking, "Maybe you should."

"You're so warm," she mumbled, and I laughed, softly, as she drifted back to sleep.

~Jane~

It was almost eleven when I got home that morning. I didn't know how my Mom would react, or if she even knew I was gone. I walked slowly up the steps to my house, and clicked my key into the lock. The door opened with a swish, and I frowned. It was always creaky, who had oiled it?

I walked through the silent house and up to my room. The lights were off in my Mothers room, and I let out a sigh of relief.

Stepping into my room I realized it looked the exact same as when I had left. Had my Mother even noticed I was gone? I lay on my bed, eyes closing as my thoughts drifted to last night. To Cash's hands on me, his mouth on my skin. A small smile graced my face.

I heard a sudden set of footsteps, running swiftly down the stairs, and my hair stood on end. I heard whoever it was pottering around in the kitchen, and I knew instantly it wasn't Mom. I wasn't sure Mom even knew we had a kitchen.

Grabbing my middle school field hockey stick I crept down the stairs, poised to attack. I knew it was most likely one of Mom's late night encounters, but I needed to be prepared, right?

I heard the rustling of a bag of chips right as I swung into the kitchen - around the corner.

"Dad?"

I know. What. The. Hell?

He went a little deer in the headlights, a kid caught in the act of stealing some cookies.

I hated that I recognized myself in him. That stupid brown hair, that stupid pale skin, those stupid freckles. He made me hate myself.

Why, you ask? Because he left me here with her! He left me without a second thought, fully prepared to go live his bachelor life again, and it didn't matter that mom was unstable and unfit to take care of me by herself! He saw how she spiraled into depression, how she lost control of her life!

"What are you doing here?" I growled out, because, even though at first I had wished desperately for him to return for me, now I had Cash. And his love wasn't conditional, his love didn't require me to go to extreme lengths and hope for the impossible.

"Umm."

I glared at him, unable to stop myself from being rude to him. "Wow, an English professor at a loss for words. Fate sure is cruel."

Just as he finally opened his mouth to speak, I heard Moms voice.

"Richard! Come back to bed, baby!"

I nearly died right there in the kitchen.