Sure. I knew I wasn’t supermodel caliber, but did he have to say it that way? Did he have to be so harsh? Hot embarrassment washed over me all over again. His face — it was complete and utter revulsion. Like I smelled and carried some sort of incurable disease.
My chest hurt.
I hated that feeling. I’d spent way too long with that feeling when I was young. When Eric cried all the time, it made me cry because I was helpless. I couldn’t help him. He was lost in his own mind, unable to differentiate between someone wanting to help and someone hurting him. At the time, we hadn’t known it, but he’d been suffering with a sensory processing disorder on top of everything else.
It had been a while since I’d cried.
My tears even tasted bitter. Did it matter what Gabe thought of me? So he thought I was ugly. So he hated me. It meant nothing, right?
Except for some reason he was stalking me.
Well, not really stalking, but when I’d left the Home earlier that day I was told that Gabe had free reign over the entire property, and that if I had a problem I should just ask Gabe.
As if it was the easiest dang thing in the universe.
Just asking Gabe was akin to walking into the It’s A Small World ride, and then not having the song stuck in your head for the next twelve hours.
Freaking impossible.
By the time I reached Lisa’s floor, my tears had dried up. I could do this. I had a few weeks until school was over. All I had to do was pass this one class. What was the worst that could happen? So Gabe hated me. So he was a volunteer at the same place I depended on for that passing grade and my scholarships.
It was fine.
It would be totally, absolutely fine.
Chapter Nineteen
There was a sickness in my soul — it was starting to take hold. It seeped into every part of my existence. The name of my sickness? Well that’s the fun part. I had three. Gabe, Ashton, and Parker. And they say people with multiple personalities have problems. I’d do anything to kill off all of mine — the only problem? That left me with nothing. And she wouldn’t have wanted that. No, that desire was all mine. All. Mine. —Gabe H.
Gabe
A week had gone by without any contact with my father. I’d changed my phone number again just in case and called all my credit card companies to make sure he hadn’t somehow used old power of attorney paperwork to get on anything that wasn’t legally his.
I was safe.
Another fire was put out — for now. Hell, it was put out as long as he didn’t find me — as long as he didn’t connect the dots. Which he would. One day. One day the dots would maybe connect themselves. Shit, I was losing it.
Now all I had to deal with was Saylor working at the group home.
I’d already decided it would be pointless for me to stay behind on the days she worked at the home. If anything, it stressed me out more because she was that close to exposing everything about me. One slip and a quick search on the Internet and I was done.
Four years of hiding. Gone.
With a sigh of resignation, I walked up to the building and found Martha. “Hey, thanks for meeting with me.”
“Sure.” She smiled warmly. “You want some coffee, kid? You’re not looking so good.”
“Aw…” I pressed my hand to my heart and smiled. “You wound me. How do you think that makes me feel?”
“You’ll survive,” she said dryly, eyebrows arching as she set her own white foam cup down on the table and leaned forward. “So, what’s going on, boss?”
“Ha!” I rolled my eyes. “Good one.”
“If the shoe fits.”
I cleared my throat and changed the subject. “I want to up the security on the place.”
“I see.” She tapped her nails against the counter. “Is there a reason?”
“Do you need one?” I snapped.
Her face fell. “Gabe, what’s going on, honey?”
I stood abruptly. “Nothing to worry about.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I am,” I said smoothly. “Just call the security company. I’m sure they can add two men to the front entrance. Make sure everything goes on lockdown during all hours, so we don’t have anyone coming on or out who isn’t approved. Oh, and I’m going to start helping with the volunteer program.”
Martha coughed. “Are you firing me?”
“Not at all.” I sighed in relief. “I need you, Martha, you know that. I just, I don’t trust that Saylor girl. I mean, we don’t really know much about her and she’s too close to—”
“—Princess.”
“Yeah,” I croaked.
“Well…” Martha stood. “As I said, you’re the boss so what you say goes. But Gabe…
I looked up into Martha’s blue-grey eyes. I’d known her for a long time. She’d never asked anything of me, not when I made crazy changes or asked for things that sounded impossibly stupid. “Yeah?”
“You know I’m always here if you want to talk.”
Ha, if only she knew how many offers I had on that front. Talking was not what I needed.
“Thanks.” I licked my lips. “I’ll remember.”
With a sad nod, she walked out of the room.
Sighing, I ran my fingers through my hair and looked at the clock on the wall. It was ten till. Saylor would be arriving any minute.
I could do this. I had to.
Closing my eyes, I reminded myself why I was choosing to put myself in her life — when really I wanted to run in the other direction, because Wes had been totally right.
I was attracted to her… and that was a feeling I hadn’t had in a really long time. The last time I’d acted on my feelings, things had gone horribly wrong.
Besides. It would never happen.
Because I still had Princess.
And that was the problem. I hated that I wanted something I couldn’t have, and Saylor? I wanted her, very, very much.
Chapter Twenty
Watching someone you love go through difficult times is like being trapped in your own body but paralyzed. You want to yell at them, scream, help them, but your body won’t move, and you know that no matter how hard you try, in the end, the path is theirs to choose. You can’t choose for them. What a terrifying concept, especially considering we hardly see every option when we’re stuck in our own self-defeat. Sometimes, I just want to yell, “Look up!” But it always seems the time I say that, is the time Gabe closes his eyes. —Wes M.
Saylor