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“Rhys, I’m the principal of the catholic school. I can’t leave my daughter in the home of a former teacher. It's already a risk that I’ll lose my job now. I mean, we don’t even know if the video was sent to other people as well or just to us.”
“I can’t leave him like this.” I look back at Ty before turning back to Cynthia. “Mum, you know Ty. You know he’s a good person. He would never hurt me.”
Cynthia sighs, “Even so. It’s not right, Rhys.”
“Nothing about me is right. Look at everything that has happened. I know you don’t deserve the shit storm I bring to your life, but I’m thankful you have been so understanding. And let’s face it, deep down, you know I sleep with older people. It’s because Ty was a teacher, and you know him personally that this is such a big deal right now.”
Cynthia’s shoulders slump before she whispers. “I don’t know what to do.”
Chapter Three
Rhys
Tears burn my cheeks as I cry silently, slumped on the floor of Ty’s bathroom. I’ve made such a mess of everything. I’ve ruined the lives of foster parents that deserve so much better than what they got when they took me in. I’ve ruined Ty’s life. He’s quit his job and could potentially get arrested if the video has leaked further than my parents’ email. I broke Marcus’ heart when he found out that I was sleeping with his mates. And what for?
Sex?
Love?
Chaos follows me. Sex rules me. My past haunts me. I’ve had enough, and I just want it to end.
For the first time, when those words flit through my mind, I don’t feel the pull of my eternal death looming over me. I don’t want to die. I don’t want my life to end. I just want to end the chaos. I want to fix the broken parts of me. I want to fix the parts that I broke in others' lives, and I just want to be content.
Is that so much to ask?
My parents left a little while ago, and Shaun not long after. My mum was reluctant to leave me here, of course. I get it. Ty is a man, and I am a child. Ty is a teacher, and I am his student. Ty was my mum’s colleague, and I am her daughter. Of course, it went against everything in them to leave me here. They could see I wasn’t going to budge, though. They could see my trust in them waning.
Will’s outburst scared the shit out of me. I’ve never seen him so unhinged like that. He was trying to stand up for his daughter. I understand that, but the violence behind his anger was terrifying. It would be better directed at Master Hill, but in Will’s mind, the crime isn’t with the man that sent him the video. It’s with the man that starred in the video with his daughter.
Cynthia and Will promised they won’t take any legal action against Tyler tonight and will think about the situation over the next few days, as long as I come home willingly tomorrow. Cynthia called it a compromise. I call it blackmail. An ultimatum of sorts. She didn’t exactly say that if I don’t come home, she will go to the police, but the insinuation was there. She knows I’m going to do whatever I have to, to keep Tyler out of trouble. So, I agreed to her terms, and she said she’ll be back early in the morning with my uniform and stuff for exams so she can take me to school.
Swiping at my tears with the heel of my palm, I pull myself up off the cold tiled floor and turn to face the fogged-up mirror over the sink. Using the towel I had my wet hair wrapped in, I wipe over the mirror until my reflection comes into view. Sighing, I stare at myself, taking in the purple swell on my cheek. All the makeup in the world won’t be able to hide it. When people ask, who will I say is to blame? Master Hill? Or my dad? Both contributed to its size and colour. Both inflicted the pain. Only one did it deliberately, though. Only one had intentions of raping me, so he will be the one I will issue the blame on.
I comb my fingers through my long, dark hair. Ty doesn’t have a hairbrush. His hair is short. He probably doesn’t even need to brush it, so why would he have a hairbrush? As I look through his cabinets, I notice there are no signs that a woman has ever been here. I guess I don’t really know much about Tyler Foster. How can I care about a man so deeply when all I know is the taste of his kiss, and the way his muscles bunch and strain as he drives into me? I don’t even know what his favourite colour is, or if he has any allergies. Does he drink coffee or tea? What sort of music does he listen to? Does he have brothers and sisters? Are his parents still alive?
I should know this stuff, right? Especially if I care for him so much. It seems strange to have formed a bond with someone I barely know. But then again, maybe I know all the important parts. The parts that matter, like that he’s a good person. That he is passionate, loyal, and fiercely protective. Those parts are more important than how he takes his coffee… if he even drinks coffee.
There’s time for me to learn these things about him, and I do want to learn them, which is new. I’ve never really cared about anything other than knowing what a guy’s come face looks like. I’m not sure what to make of that. Is my so-called sex addiction cured? Am I changing into a normal girl?
I grin at myself in the mirror.
Normal girls don’t have five boyfriends, Rhys. You’ll never be normal.
And I’m ok with that.
I leave the confined space of Ty’s bathroom, quietly padding across the timber floors down to his bedroom, where he said he would wait for me. It’s weird being in his apartment alone with just the two of us. It feels very confronting for some reason. I don’t hate it, though. But I’m nervous, something which I’m not used to feeling.
Stepping through the open door of Tyler’s bedroom, my eyes scan the space until they land on the dark silhouette sitting in the shadowed corner. My heart flips, and my face heats as my nerves skyrocket.
Jesus Christ, Rhys. Pull yourself together.
“Come here.” The deep rumble of Ty’s voice meets me across the small space, and I hesitate for a moment, shifting nervously on the spot.
Leaning forward, Ty’s face comes into view as he rests his forearms on the tops of his legs. “If you’re not comfortable being here, Kitten, it's ok. I won’t be offended if you’d rather go home.”
I shake my head, licking my lips before I respond. “I’m not leaving you tonight.”
“Are you scared of me?” He asks, and I frown.
