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“Don’t worry about it, just know he shouldn’t so much as look in your direction again.”
“Travis, he’s…powerful, I can’t let you get in trouble for me.”
Brushing a strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear, I run my hand down her back gently. “It’s ok Spence. I promise.”
Releasing all the tension in her shoulders, she breathes a sigh of relief and almost cracks a smile. “You slay my monsters, Price.”
Grinning I lean in and push my lips against hers as we both fall back into the bed. We are a mess of legs, lips, and teeth when my phone goes off. I ignore it the first time, but it goes off again. Groaning, I pull away from her and retrieve my phone from my pocket.
“Shit, it’s my dad.”
Sitting up, she kisses my cheek, “It’s fine. I gotta go anyway, I wanted to get started going through mom’s things.”
“Ok, I’ll call you later,” I kiss her one last time before answering my phone.
“Yeah dad?” I answer as I look up and watch Spencer leave.
Chapter seven
Spencer
“You know, your father warned me that boy next door was going to be a problem,” I cringe at the voice coming from behind me as I press the front door closed. I thought I had made it in unnoticed, but it looks like I was wrong.
“I told Grant, I said, ‘No, surely he won’t be. Dina had a good head on her shoulders, and I’m certain that Spencer takes after her mother in more than just her appearance.’ I guess your father was right.” I turn around and face him, his eyes are dark and displeasure blankets his face. “Is this what I’ll have to worry about Spencer? Some delinquent boy knocking you up before high school is over?”
“What the hell? No, of course not! It’s not like that,” I reply defensively.
“Oh please! You stayed there all night, you mean to tell me that I don’t understand what teenagers do behind closed doors?”
“What the fuck Evan?”
“Excuse me miss, you’ll watch your tone with me. You’re still 17 and I’m in charge here. You won’t be seeing that boy anymore,” he spits as he turns to walk back into the kitchen.
Charging after him with fury in my veins, I shout, “You will not tell me what to do! I’m almost 18 and that ‘boy’ as you call him, has been my world since we were little kids. I won’t be staying away from him, and if you try, so help me god I-“
“What? You’ll what? Hmm? You may want to watch the next thing that comes out of your mouth Spencer. I’m here to keep you in line and keep you safe. I’m responsible for you. And you’ll do well to remember who I am. The power that I hold. I’ll have that boy locked up in a heartbeat.”
I stop in my tracks, he’s got to be kidding.
I’m smart enough not to continue digging my own grave, but this is far from over. I need to get in contact with my father to talk about this. He’s been dodging me for too long now. There’s no way he knows that Uncle Evan is like this. That it’s this bad. Between today and the events of the past couple of weeks, I can’t keep living under this roof with him. I have an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach that’s eating away at me like battery acid.
Something isn’t right. And this isn’t the big bad event. No. This is the foreshadowing of something that’s about to wreck me. I can feel it in my gut.
I don’t even respond to him, I simply spin on one heel and stomp up the steps to my bedroom. Once inside my room, I slam the door, being sure to lock it behind me, and I flop face first into my bed. Gripping my pillow with both hands, I press my face into it and release a loud, muffled scream of frustration. Lying on my face for a few more moments, I try to talk myself off the ledge.
I’m sure calling dad won’t be a ton of help, but fuck it. If he cares for me at all, he will come home. His job can wait. Fishing my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, I dial the number and press my phone to my ear. It rings and rings, and eventually goes to voicemail.
I’m not sure what time it is, wherever he is, but he will take my call. Hanging up, I turn around and dial out to him again. For a second time it goes to voicemail. Sucking in a deep breath, I dial out one more time, and on the 2nd ring he answers.
“Yeah?” he sounds sleepy, so it must be late.
“Daddy,” I try to hold back but I start to cry.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, but his voice is devoid of any emotion.
I sigh, “We need to talk daddy, it’s about Uncle Evan, he’s out of c-“
“Yes,” he sighs, irritation bleeding from the undertones of his response. “I already spoke with him.”
