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I wanted to do all that and more.
I hated that I wasn’t there for Taylor these last ten years. I’d thought… I’d hoped she’d be fine. Maybe that was a naive hope to have, but at the time, I didn’t have options. I had to take over, officially join the Guild in my mom’s stead.
Damn it.I should’ve gone back for her.
As I prepped her meal—nothing fancy, pasta and some garlic bread I’d throw in the toaster—I couldn’t help but wonder what she’d say if I told her the truth, if I told her killing her dad was well within the realm of possibilities. That I could do it, and she could even watch, if she wanted.
But, no, she probably wouldn’t want that. It might’ve been ten years, but she didn’t strike me as the kind of person who’d ever wish anyone else dead, regardless of what crimes they may have committed, even against her. Taylor was such an innocent fool in that way.
Tom Hill had become abusive. It didn’t surprise me, because he’d never been a kind man, but my mom had seen something in him, whatever the fuck that was. Or maybe she’d never seen anything in him, and he was just a cover. My mom had done worse things.
Fuck. I really, really wanted to kill that motherfucker, but if he wound up dead, and Taylor wasn’t okay with it, I didn’t think she’d forgive me… and I didn’t know if I could bear a world where she hated me. The last thing I wanted was her hatred.
By the time Taylor came out of her room, freshly showered and wearing my clothes—a plain black t-shirt with athletic shorts, both things swallowing her tiny frame up—I had her meal ready to go on the island. I made her sit, and I took up the spot next to her with a first-aid kit, gently sterilizing the cuts on her hand before putting bandages on them. The big one had started to bleed again, but for obvious reasons, blood didn’t bother me.
Taylor didn’t say anything as she ate. She didn’t look at me as I bandaged her up, which allowed me to study the bruising on her neck without her green eyes boring into me. That motherfucker had put his hands around her neck and choked her. I didn’t need her to tell me that. It was plain as day.
Once I was done with her hand, I closed up the first-aid kit and put it away. I went into my room, into the bathroom, and opened one of the smaller drawers in the vanity. A full drawer of pills rattled about, and I found the one labeledibuprofenand grabbed it. Taylor would probably need it, if not now, then in the morning, when her bruising would be worse. Her hand had to hurt, too. One of the cuts was pretty deep.
I returned to her side, setting the pill bottle near her and saying, “Make sure you take something if the pain is too much. That hand has to hurt.”
Taylor didn’t go for it. Her wet brown hair was tucked behind her ears, unbrushed. There were a lot of things I’d have to get her. “I’m fine,” she said, and I had the feeling she said that an awful lot, especially to anyone who might ask her if something was wrong.
She was slow in finishing her meal, but she did take two pills before joining me on the couch. She tucked her bare feet under her ass, looking as small as she could. Two feet sat between us on the couch, and yet it felt like she was miles away.
“Well?” I broke the silence of the space, watching her with an unwavering eye. “Tell me what made you call after ten years.” I realized I might sound a little bitter at that, and I had no right to be. I was the one who’d left, not her. She never owed me a call, and I… well, I’d stayed away for her own good.
Shrugging, she whispered, “I was just doing homework. He came home a little drunk. I didn’t realize what time it was, so I didn’t have dinner ready.”
“Dinner?” I echoed, frowning. “Don’t tell me this is all about fucking dinner.” How the fuck could that asshole have done this to her all over a stupid goddamnedmeal? It took everything in me to not flex my fingers into fists; not showing my rage grew more difficult with each passing second.
Taylor bit her lower lip. “Yeah. Things escalated and… and he started—” She brought up her unbandaged hand to her throat, lightly touching the bruising skin. “You know.” Her eyes closed, and the next time she spoke, her voice shook with each word, “He’s never done that before. I think I was in shock, at first, and then it started to hurt. I couldn’t breathe. Nothing I did could get him to stop. I didn’t know what to do. I thought I was going to die.”
I scooted closer to her on the couch, grabbing her and pulling her to me. She came without a fight, and she curled up on my lap, leaning the side of her head against my shoulder. My arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly. How I wished I could’ve been there, because if I’d have been there, things would’ve turned out very differently.
“We were by the sink,” Taylor whispered. “There was a glass that I never got to cleaning. I grabbed it and… and I just hit him with it. As hard as I could, I hit him, right on the head. It didn’t matter that I hurt myself, because it got him to let me go.” She exhaled a trembling breath. “I ran to the door, and he said if I leave, don’t come back.”
“You did the right thing,” I told her, leaning my cheek against her damp head. At least the hand injury was a result of self-defense, but still, she never would’ve gotten hurt if that asshole could’ve just kept his anger to himself.
“He’ll probably calm down—”
“No.” My voice was firm, and I think shocking to her, because she lifted her head off my shoulder to look at me. “You’re not going back there, Taylor, ever. I won’t let you.” If she thought, after hearing that, after seeing the state of her hand and her neck, that I’d let her go back to him…
Taylor swallowed, her green gaze falling. “I can’t stay here forever, Creed.”
“Yes, you can,” I told her. “You can stay for as long as you need, and if that means you stay forever, then you stay forever. I’ll always have a place for you. You’re my sister.” That last part fought me as I said it, like the words didn’t want to be spoken. Whether that was due to the fact that I’d left her all those years ago or because of something else, I didn’t know.
She leaned her head against me again, clinging to me like I was her lifeline. I had to admit, it wasn’t the worst feeling in the world, being needed like this.
“I was so scared you weren’t going to answer,” she said. “That maybe you changed your number or something. I don’t have anyone else. I have friends, but… we’re not that close. They don’t know what my dad’s like.”
“Well, I answered, and now I’m here,” I spoke against her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave you again. That, I promise you.” I’d do whatever it took to keep her safe, whatever I had to in order to keep her cared for. She was family. She was the only family I had left, really.
Taylor turned her face up at me, and she brought her injured hand up my chest, resting it on my shoulder. “I really did miss you so much.” That sentence was accompanied by a smile, and that smile made me wish everything was different. That she hadn’t gotten hurt, that I hadn’t left her ten years ago.
I smoothed down her hair. “Me too,” I whispered back.
It was late, but she made no moves to get off me, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to push her away. I’d hold her for as long as I had to, and I’d be glad to do it. Neither one of us spoke again, the space falling into a comfortable silence. After a while, Taylor’s breathing began to slow, and I was pretty sure she’d fallen asleep, tucked against me while I held her.
