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“My mother did love my father, but my father…” I pause. “He loved only himself. There is no one in this world he loved more than himself.” Chanel remains quiet as she listens to me. “When I started working for Keir, I saw then that he really did only love himself. He would ask me to get him things, do things for him. Because now I had more connections than him, and he didn’t like that. He hated that I was becoming more powerful than him. It stressed him to no end. He left my mother, which he should have done right after I was born, because he constantly cheated on her anyway. He would come home smelling of other women, with absolutely no remorse for how that would make my mother feel.”
“Does she still love him?” Chanel asks.
“No, she’s learned that it wasn’t her. She always thought throughout the marriage that the problem was that she couldn’t keep him happy. But there is no keeping him happy, no matter what. He was and always will be all about him.” Even as the words leave my mouth, I know them to be true.
“Do you still talk to him?”
“Yes, he is my father.”
“Just because he is, doesn’t mean you should.” She pulls back. “Sometimes people’s love is misleading. False. Broken.”
“My parents didn’t have your family’s dynamic,” I point out.
“No, my father and mother loved each other. All through their fucked-up ways and their stupid habits, I have memories of them when they were sober. They were good when they were, though it was rare to find them that way. But when they touched the drugs…” She sighs. “It was a whole different ball game.”
“I’m going to shower.” I pull away from her and walk into the bathroom, stripping out of my clothes and stepping into the shower.
Her family and mine are complete opposites. I still have my parents in my life, and hers are dead because they cared more about the drugs than their own children.
“You have a problem with drugs,” she says, now standing on the other side of the shower door.
“Just the idiots who ingest them,” I tell her.
“What if I were to tell you I did drugs? What would you think of me, then?”
I stop washing myself and look at her. “Do you?”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“I would tell you to leave this fucking house.”
“Goodbye, Lucas.” She walks out, and I stand there shocked.
I would have known if she did, wouldn’t I?
I’ve seen every inch of her body, and there is no trace of track marks. She’s never had that glassy-eyed look that junkies get when they’re high. And I’ve never seen her with any drugs or drug paraphernalia.
Fuck this! Putting my head under the water, I scream, “Fuuuck!”
Immediately, I jump out of the shower and run straight out the front door, where she’s already halfway down the street. Is she fucking crazy? She is asking me to kill her.
“Chanel,” I shout after her.
She doesn’t stop.
So I jog down the sidewalk to catch up with her. “Fucking stop.”
She stops with a loud huff and spins toward me. When she sees me, she rolls her eyes and looks around. “Do you really not have a problem with everyone seeing your cock?” She glances at my naked body.
“No. It only plans to be buried inside of you. So, it doesn’t matter who sees it, because it will only be seeing your cunt.”
“What if I were to run out of the house naked?”
“I would chase you down and spank your fucking ass.” She gives me another solid eye roll. “You do drugs?” I ask her.
“I have tried them, yes,” she admits.
“But you don’t do them any longer, correct?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Come back inside.”
“What if I went and got high right now? Would you kick me out again?” she asks, her arms crossing over her chest.
“No. Seems I don’t like that option, so I’d just tie you to the bed and let you ride it out.”
“You aren’t tying me to the bed ever again.”
“Oh yes, I will be, and you’ll enjoy it.” I reach for her hand and drag her back inside, her feet moving willingly even if her mouth says otherwise.
“What are we even doing?” she whispers, asking that same question again, as the door closes behind us.
“Lord knows, but I’m going to keep on doing it.” I smoothe my hands down her back, then grab her ass and lift her up. She squeals but wraps her legs around me.
“Lucas.” I pause my steps, and she pulls back and strokes my face. “I don’t want to like you.”
“I think it’s a bit late for that, wouldn’t you say?” The tiniest smile pulls from those beautiful lips, and I lean in to kiss them, but she beats me to it and kisses the corner of my mouth, then slides her face into my neck.
