“El,” but hearing him call me El breaks me. I wish I could only hear Axe call me that. “Men that old who are messing around with girls who are underage are nothing but a predator.” He looks at me. The audacity of what he just said about the man is appalling. It pisses me off and I suddenly realize what Axe has been meaning about why we can’t do this whole time. It pisses me off to hear someone speaking about him like that. I can only imagine how much it would piss him off if someone spoke that way to him.
“No, that’s where you are wrong.” I look back at him again. “Jake, if he was a predator. He would have fucked me 2 years ago when I first tried to get him to. Lose my fucking number.” I tell him before I get out of the car, slamming the door, and walk inside my house.
I pace in my room before I pull out my phone and quickly type out a message.
Me:I’m sorry. I understand now why you don’t want to. You’re a good man. I don’t want anyone to think about you, how they will, if we do anything now.
C.A.:Babydoll, I couldn’t care less what people would think about me. Except for my brothers, that is.
Me:Then what else is it?
C.A.:You should be able to figure out what you like.
Me:I already know what I like.
C.A.:I’m not arguing with you about this.
I begin a response when I hear a muffled noise in the darkness of the house. I have a feeling that dad will end up staying at the clubhouse tonight, so I’m almost positive that it isn’t him.
I don’t call out because I’m not an idiot, and I’ve seen enough horror movies in my lifetime to know that never ends well. So, instead, I flip off my light in my room, move over to my nightstand and pull out my gun. Slowly, and as quietly as I can, racking the slide back and I breathe out calmly as I move to the other side of the room.
I listen…
Closing my eyes, trying to focus, like Ash taught me to do so long ago. If you take away one sense, the others make up for it. He told me as he taught me what to do if something exactly like what is happening goes down.
Even if you can’t get away. Even if you’re outnumbered. You are tough, and you promise me you don’t go down without a fucking fight.Even at 12, when he was teaching me all of this, I knew I wouldn’t.
My eyes still closed; I listen, as I swear I can hear footsteps. But then they stop. I’m listening out, but I hear nothing.
Fuck, Ella. Get it together.
Standing up, I tiptoe through the open door of my bedroom and creep down the hallway, checking each room as I make it back. I move into the living room, check it, and then continue on into the kitchen.
Walking out to the garage, I glance around, only seeing dad’s truck as it sits.
Sighing, I walk back inside.
I’m just being paranoid.
I have stayed in this house a million times by myself. Nothing ever happens here.
This city is so safe that dad leaves me alone probably more than he should. His whole reasoning for moving out here was so that I wouldn’t have to live the last few years in high school in the biker lifestyle, but he just kept getting back into it.
But honestly I’ve always known that he could never just walk away from it. It’s a part of who he is.
I grab a water bottle out of the fridge before I turn the corner of the hallway and head back to my bedroom.
Walking through the door, I laugh as I flick on my lights, placing the gun down on the table.
My world instantly begins to spin, the panic completely overtaking me, as I feel the hands on me, pushing me against the wall.
