AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Twenty minutes later, the meeting has disbanded, and I watch as Greg Sumpter, carrying a box of his belongings, gets escorted from the building. I then turn on my heel and go look for Sin. I just want to see if she’s okay. That’s it. Nothing more.
Worrywort
Genesis
“Gen,Icancancelmy dentist appointment and stay if you need me.” Nat looks at me with so much concern, my resolve not to let Greg’s words affect me crumbles.
Greg had done a number on my psyche, hitting me where it hurt the most.
Still, my melancholy doesn’t warrant me from preventing my best friend from getting her tooth fixed.
“Thanks Nat, I appreciate it, but I’ll be okay. We can talk later if you’re up to it.”
With one last sympathetic squeeze to my arm, she leaves. After a moment, I rise from my chair, and taking my phone, I head to the restroom. I need to talk to my mom.
My parents should just be getting up as the working day begins early on the sheep farm. I still find it weird that their day is just beginning, while mine is near its end.
“Hello, pretty girl! How are you?” Mom’s gentle voice pulls my heart from my chest. Some days, I miss my parents so damn much. Days like this being one of them.
“I’m fine, Mom. I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“You don’t sound fine.” I hear my dad in the background, asking what’s wrong. His concern is the last straw, and the tears I’ve held up for so long spill forth and fall from my eyes.
“Genesis, sweetie, are you crying?”
“No-o-o.” My wobbly voice gives me away.
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Mom asks, the pitch of her tone rising with worry.
I hear a shuffle and Dad comes on the line. “Genesis, tell us what’s wrong. Do we need to come over or—“
“No. No!” I say, stopping my over protective dad from jumping on the next thing smoking back to Texas. “It was just a dust up at work. I’m fine, really. Just hearing y’all made me feel a lot better.” In my distress, my Texas accent comes out thick and strong.
“Tell us what happened,” Mom says, at the same time Dad grunts. She must have picked up the other line.
Shifting my butt to sit on the countertop, I tell them what happened at the meeting.
“That bastard,” My dad snaps, and I can feel the heat of his anger from thousands of miles away. “You say he was fired, huh? Wish I was there tohelphim to his car. I would have—“
“Now, now, Nick, what good would that do?” Mom scolds.
“Satisfaction,” my dad growls. “It would give me a lot of satisfaction to have that meat-head eat some pavement.”
Now I know where I get mykick-ass-take-names-latertrait from. Dad is ruthless sometimes.
“Don’t worry, Daddy. He’s left the building.”
And not in Elvis style either.
“Well… as long as he didn’t put his hands on you.”
Hands on me.
Royce.
It dawns on me: I’ve taken worse insults from Greg and they rolled off my back like water from a duck. I’m not upset because of him… well, partly, but the main reason is Royce.
I haven’t seen him… heard him… smelled him inforever, yet he still is hanging around in the darkest part of my mind. The part that wants to do bad… and be bad.
