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I do remember the day she coaxed me into going to school sick with fever and a bad case of a stomach bug, because Graham was staying at home that day and she thought it was a good time. I was fifteen at the time, and I’d agreed, because she’d bullshitted me into believing Graham would take us on a Hawaiian vacation if they were together. She sold me the big happy family dream and I ate it up.
But three hours into my school day, my teacher called my parents up and told them I’ve been throwing up and had an outrageously high fever; 103 degrees, I think.
Graham had rushed in, he was the first person to barge into the nurse’s office, my mom following after him sheepishly.
“Why the fuck did you go to school today, Dahlia?” His voice was low and raspy, and Gina the nurse almost tipped back in awe when she heard him cursing like a drunk sailor.
I had looked between him and my mom, who stood behind his back. Mom shook her head, her eyes shut. I had to cover her ass.
“Ah…” I had looked around me, stalling, looking for a good excuse. “I had an important exam I didn’t want to miss.”
He’d called bullshit on my excuse without even uttering one word. It was in the way he scrunched his eyebrows together and got up from squatting down to where I was lying on the nurse’s bed, tipping his chin down like he was disappointed with my answer.
“Get your shit, we’re going home.” His voice cut through my skin, reached my bones and made them shudder.
“Yes, Graham.” I had licked my lips nervously, watching him turn around and walk to the door. My mom had just stood there, her nostrils flaring, and cursed under her breathe.
“You just had to ruin everything, didn’t you, Dahl?” She’d almost spat the words. Nurse Gina, already shocked by my stepdaddy’s behavior, stood up, intending to tell my mom off, but it was too late. Annabelle had already turned around and left us both.
I hit the accelerator and jerk my chin up, taking a deep breath as I speed into the concrete jungle that’s New York. Yes, I have plenty of memories with my mom, but none of them good.
Maybe Graham is right.
Maybe it is time to cut her loose.
“You’re not Graham.” The guy behind the counter observes sharply. He is good looking. Actually, good looking doesn’t even begin to describe it. He looks like the dudes you see on romance novels. Tan, ripped and sporting that gorgeous cocky grin that makes women consider things like rimming and anal. Yes, that good looking. He is also familiar and has an Irish accent to die for. Seriously, what do they feed them in Ireland that make them grow into such handsome, tough, badass specimen?
“No, I’m not Graham,” I say, leaning my hip against his counter.
His shop is nothing like I’ve ever seen before. They sell everything, from keys to knives and they have a backyard full of metal junk. I don’t know how to explain it, but the place looks about as legal as a sweat shop.
“You figured out that one quickly.” I smile sarcastically, checking out his place. Everything is cluttered and stuffy and the air is musty. I don’t like it here.
“Ah, you’re a funny one,” his Irish twang sing-songs. I sneak another glare at him and decide that he’s familiar.
As if sensing my confusion, he states, “I’m the bouncer at Hot N’ Bothered.”
“Oh, that’s right. You were the one who escorted my friend, Jade, to her cab.”
I only remember this piece of information because Jade spend forty minutes telling me how hot he was and how she’d have totally tried to bang him if it wasn’t for my scary-as-shit stepfather.
“Aye, that’s me. Carter.” He reaches to shake my hand.
“I’m Dahlia, but everyone calls me Dahl.”
“Okay, Dahlia.”
“I just said Dahl.” I cock one eyebrow, amused, and he sends a condescending smirk my way.
“Sweetheart, I reckon your daddy will cut my balls and feed them to me if I call you by your nickname. He’s not a patient man when it comes down to things that belong to him.”
I am at a loss for words. What? Graham has warned people off about me? Since when? And what does he mean by “I’m his?” I’m not anyone’s. This is beyond ridiculous and despite the fact Carter is nice eye candy, I think I’ve had enough. I wave in his general direction, huffing.
“Right. Can you just give me the keys please?” I ask. He nods once and disappears behind a wood door leading to the back of his store. I tap my nails on the glass counter under me, blowing a lock of blonde hair from my face. I’m so smitten with Graham, I sometimes forget how controlling he can be. First, he kicks my mom out of the house, she had it coming, she’s been abusing this arrangement ever since they signed those papers, and now he’s warning people about not getting near me…or using my nickname. I fish out my phone to text Jade and tell her I’m standing across from her crush.
Dahl (06:44)
Guess where I am.
