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On one hand, I had this heartrending desire to be her perfect daughter — but I couldn’t be, I couldnever beperfect enough for her. On the other, I wanted to kick, scream, and claw my way away from her. Part of me wanted to shut her out of my life, sever the relationship and never look back.
It made me ill to think about it. Sick, frustrated, and so confused.
Jason sat beside me, rubbing slow circles on my back. After Vincent had picked me up, he’d taken me straight back to the house. Seated in their garage, I felt better just to have them around me.
Things felt different with them, different than with anyone else I’d ever known. They used to make me feel out of control, like I couldn’t regulate my brain or my tongue properly. Now, I realized the feeling of being “out of control” was just the sensation of all my fake bullshit failing me. I couldn’t pretend with them.
“Some parents will try everything they can to hold on to control,” Jason said. He’d set his laptop aside when I arrived, postponing his work to listen to me vent. “Either because they’re afraid of losing you, or afraid of fucking up, or —”
“Or because they’re assholes,” Vincent said. He was standing beside me, already dressed in a crisp black button-up and slacks for work. He’d picked up extra shifts that week since he’d taken the weekend off. “Just because they’re family doesn’t mean they get to walk all over you.”
Across the yard, Lucas was on the phone with a delivery driver as he opened the gate for them to drive in. He guided the white box truck as it backed toward the garage, then he and Manson helped the driver remove the large, unwieldy package from within.
Temporarily distracted from my mommy issues, I watched them maneuver the item into the garage. “Is that what I think it is?”
Manson pushed his hair out of his face, giving me a grin. “Come, take a peek.” He ripped open a corner of the tightly-wrapped cardboard so I could peer inside. Lots of metal...and a telltale BMW logo within.
Practically squealing with excitement, I spun around and threw my arms around Manson’s neck. I embraced Lucas right after, kissing him and then smacking my lips at how salty he tasted. Both he and Manson had been working all day, and they were covered in grime.
“I need a shower, don’t I?” Lucas said, swiping his hand over his forehead and leaving a streak of grease behind. I swiped it away with my thumb and left another kiss instead.
“I don’t mind,” I said. “I’m just happy to be over here instead of at home. I interrupted you guys in the middle of work...”
“You definitely did not,” Manson said. “You’re never an interruption, angel. Whenever you need us, we’re here.”
My shoulders slumped as I relaxed into Lucas’s arms. He leaned against the bumper of the white Honda Civic they had been working on today, holding me close with his chin resting on my head.
“Are you installing it today?” I said, eager to focus on something exciting rather than the other bullshit.
“Damn, girl, in a little bit of a rush, huh?” Lucas said. “We don’t install parts until they’re fully paid for. And don’t give me that pouty lip or I might bite it.”
“Sounds like I’m being held captive with an engine as collateral,” I said teasingly, before quickly withdrawing my pouting lower lip between my teeth. That didn’t stop him from biting me though. He went straight for the throat, clinging tightly to me as his sharp bites turned into rough kisses.
“We don’t need an engine to hold you captive,” Manson said. “But you will have to be patient for a little bit longer. We have other clients to take care of too. We need to have that beauty over there ready for a show in a couple of weeks.”
He nodded his head toward the bright red Ford Thunderbird currently on a lift at the back of the shop.Dante’s Infernowas emblazoned across the side in swirling calligraphic letters.
“Mm-hm, sounds like you’re stalling,” I said.
My breath hitched as Manson crowded close to me. Lucas’s arms were still around me, and Manson delicately tucked back a lock of my hair before he said, “Maybe we are. Maybe I’m being a very selfish bastard because having you as my toy is too fun.”
“I...um...” I was usually quick with a sassy response. But with Manson looking down at me like that and Lucas’s lips on my neck, while Jason and Vincent snickered, words were lost to me.
“So you’ll be patient, won’t you?” Manson said. “You’ll be a good, patient girl for us?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, then when he tweaked up an eyebrow, I quickly corrected, “Master. Yes, Master.”
Those words tingled every time they touched my tongue. I’d never expected to be calling anyone a title like that. Not only regularly butfrequently. It was a loaded word; it carried a seriousness that mere pet names didn’t. But it also carried a promise: guidance, protection, authority. It was a promise of his care.
“There you go,” Manson said, giving me a quick kiss on the forehead before he walked over to the tool bench and began putting things away.
“So is your mama getting what she wants?” Lucas said. “Are you going to dinner with this guy?”
“I’m going to fake that I’m sick,” I said determinedly. “My mom gets really grossed out by vomit, so if I fake gag a little, I can get out of it without subjecting her to eternal shame for backing out.”
“Come on, Jess,” Jason said, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t have to fake it.”
“You can’t let her bend your boundaries,” Lucas said, in the most reasonable tone I’d ever heard from him. “You have to be firm.”
