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“Why were you so mean to me?” she asked, her green eyes piercing me.
“Because I’m an idiot,” I confessed. “I have a few issues with your stepfather.”
Her fingers moved over the top of mine, which were still resting against her cheek, and she closed her eyes. “He’s no father of mine.”
“Did he do this to you?” I whispered, a little too afraid to say it any louder. I didn’t know why, but the idea of Charlie hurting Hazel made me want to vomit.
She nodded slowly. “He’s a monster.”
“I know.”
And I was going to kill him.
“Mama’s bruises are worse,” she softly said as she raked her hand through her charcoal-colored hair. “She has no escape from him, and he hurts her a lot more than he has ever hurt me.”
“Why won’t she leave him?”
“She’s tried, time and time again. He always finds her and pulls her back in.” Tears fell down her cheeks, and she shook her head as I wiped them away. “Can vodka make you both happy and sad?”
“It’s possible.”
“But I don’t want to be sad anymore. I want to be happy.”
“You will be,” I promised. “Sometimes it just takes time to get to the happy lyrics.”
“When are you going to write happy lyrics?”
I pushed out a chuckle. “I’m actually looking to hire a girl to help me on the lyrics end.”
She pushed her tongue in her cheek and narrowed her eyes. “I bet she’s really cute.”
“She has no clue how beautiful she is,” I gently replied. “With and without the makeup.”
She sat up a little straighter, seemingly surprised by my words. “Thank you.”
“Can I ask why you wear so much makeup?”
Hazel raked her hands through her hair again and shrugged her shoulders. “That’s because of Charlie too. When I was younger, around fourteen, I used to always wear a tank top and shorts around the house. One night, when Charlie was drunk, he stumbled into my bedroom and made comments about how he wanted to touch my body. About how I was showing it off for him with my olive skin. So I started dressing in heavy layers of clothing and makeup to ward him off.”
I felt sick to my stomach as she told me that. What kind of fucking psychopath was Charlie? If I’d had plans to kill him before, now I was raging with the need to strangle the bastard.
Such a softness fell over her as she looked my way. “Ian?”
“Yeah?”
“Drunk Hazel likes you a lot.”
I snickered. “Let’s work on getting sober Hazel to like me too.”
“That’s easy enough.” She yawned in my face, not bothering to cover her mouth. “Just say hi to me sometimes, and it helps if you take off your shirt too.”
Dammit to hell. How had I treated someone like Hazel so shitty for so long? If I’d pulled my head out of my own ass, I would’ve realized that there was nothing about her that mimicked Charlie. She was the complete opposite, actually. She was caring and funny and beautiful and kind.
Christ. What a fucking idiot I was.
“Hey, Ian?”
“Yes?”
