More Than Lies (18 page)

“Calm down.”

“Easy for you to say, you aren’t about to have a heart attack.”

“Didn’t you hear me? I didn’t let that motherfucker do what he had planned. I pulled your pants down so that your tattoo could breath.” Shawn’s palm runs behind my head. His eyes close and his forehead lowers onto my throbbing one. “He drugged you.”

Holy crap balls.

This is bad, so bad; my parents are going to murder me.

“I don’t remember anything. I mean, I do, but everything is hazy. I remember Matt being a douche, some guy that I couldn’t lose, and then your face and nothing. Everything else is blank. How did this happen, Shawn? I’m not that stupid am I?” Apparently I am. I don’t need him to confirm that.

“No, Tara, you’re not. You didn’t do anything wrong. He put something into your drink somehow. You were at home. You should have been safe and I let this happen to you. I’m sorry.” Why is he sorry? This makes no sense. He can’t control what happens. He wasn’t even home when got home last night so there was nothing he let happen. “Fuck.”

Shawn releases me as he falls onto his back.

I rise up, turning toward him and place my left hand onto his stomach. I’m about to tell him he isn’t at fault when I see the cotton with clear tape, medical tape, covering the crease in my arm where my elbow bends as if there was recently a needle in my arm.

Panic sets in.

Oh please tell me I wasn’t taken to a hospital. I really am dead.

I guess Shawn interrupted my facial expression for what it is. “My mom gave you something to prevent dehydration.” My eyes go to his.

“Pam? Not a hospital?” I question and he nods. I relax on the thought that this is messed up. My first reaction to being drugged shouldn’t be, how my parents are going to react.

“My parents are here. I’m sure mom is working on dinner now.”

“Dinner?” I ask. Sure, Pam loves to cook, but rarely does she start on a big meal before early afternoon.

“You were out for over twelve hours. Are you hungry? Do you need anything?”

Holy cow. That’s a long darn time.

What do I need? For a start, new parents, that’s what I need.

My stomach rumbles as if answering his inquiry. Usually I snack on stuff at the bar during my shift, but we were so busy that I never got a chance to eat anything. Of course, losing a meal probably doesn’t hurt me any and with Pam’s delicious calorie infused meals it’s best to skip a few.

“I’m starving, but I feel dirty. Can I shower first?” Why am I asking permission? Of course I can.

“Yeah. Does your head hurt?”

“Like a mother.” Shawn laughs at my nonuse of “fucker” to finish that sentence. I don’t see the need in excessive cuss words when there are so many other words available. Shawn does it enough for everyone in this house as it is.

“I’ll go start your water. The heat should help ease the pain and I’ll grab you some aspirin.” Shawn rolls in the opposite direction of me and

“Cherry powdered aspirin please and make it two packs.” I turn to my left side to get out of bed as well.

“What is it with you and Mason taking excessive amounts of aspirin? Jeez, Tara.”

“Some of us want relief and fast relief.” Plus when you take over-the-counter medications for so long for pain they seem to get used to your system and isn’t as affective. When I was in high school I started getting back pain due to the size my boobs increased to at a rapid pace. It seems like these babies showed up overnight. Sometimes it’s a plus and an even bigger negative when you have double D’s. I shouldn’t complain. At least I didn’t have to buy my chest. Nope these are God given.

I stand up too quickly and have to grab the bedside table for support so I don’t fall. My eyes close to ward off the dizzy spell.

“Whoa. Easy, Tara.” A large frame is before me and warm hands encase me. It’s nice; I’m not going to lie. Before I open my eyes, my legs are being removed from the floor. I open them to look at Shawn. “I got you.”

This is all too weird, Shawn being in here and Shawn taking care of me. Sure, I get it I guess. It happened in his house, so he feels somewhat responsible even though he shouldn’t.

“I understand why I feel like dog crap and I’m sure I look worse than I feel, but why do you look so rough?” His brown eyes are red, he has dark circles under his eyes and his hair is a mess. He’s still beautiful, but a beautiful mess at the moment.

“You look fine, Tara.” I doubt that. Shawn starts to move, walking toward the bathroom I’m sure. “I haven’t gotten much sleep. I’ve been wake since I got up yesterday morning.”

Damn, I feel bad.

“Because you’ve been taking care of me?”

“My mom took care of you. I simply watched you to make sure nothing happened.” Shawn places me down on the lid of the toilet and then turns away from me. Seconds later the water is running and he’s rummaging through the medicine cabinet above the bathroom sink.

“I’m sorry.” I need to pee, badly. He has to leave.

“There isn’t anything for you to be sorry about. Here, take your excessive amount of aspirin.” He hands me two open packs, I toss them onto the back of my tongue like they are a shot of tequila. I wash the powder down with a cool glass of water Shawn hands me.

“I need to use the bathroom, now.” That’s the politest way possible to tell him to get out so that I can use the toilet.

“Are you good, or do you need help with anything?”

“Nope, pants are already undone. I think I can handle the rest.” Shawn turns his face away from me. I’m not certain, but I think that might have been a blush. Today is bizarre. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know what all happened last night, but thank you.”

He nods and exits the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

I make sure to lock the door and then shed my clothes.

He’s right; the heat of the water does help ease the tension inside my brain. I don’t want to get out, but my stomach is in need of food. Especially since I know Pam is here. My mouth is practically watering.

I towel off, slowly so I don’t have another dizzy spell and wrap the white fluffy material around my body.

Quickly as possible I brush my teeth and rinse my mouth out with minty mouthwash. After about twenty minutes of being awake, I’m feeling slightly better than when I opened my eyes.

The last step is to throw on some comfy clothes. I open the door leading to my room and jump backwards when I see Shawn on my bed. His legs are at the end of the bed with his feet on the ground, but he’s reclined onto his back with his arms behind his head. As if he hears me, Shawn leans up, resting on his forearms. His eyes scan my body from head toe. I tighten the towel covering my nakedness even tighter when I want nothing more than to release it. If my pain wasn’t so prominent I’d be tempted just to see what Shawn would do.

“I didn’t think you’d still be in here.”

Shawn’s eyes close and he drops back down onto the bed.

“You had a dizzy spell when you got up, I didn’t want you to fall coming down the stairs.” His eyes open again but he’s staring at the ceiling or so I’m guessing.

“I’ll be fine. You can go. You don’t have to babysit me, Shawn. I know this isn’t your style.” I walk over to my dresser. It’s against the wall so my back is turned away from the bed.

“Yeah, and what is my style then?” Shawn pushes off the bed. I can see him in the mirror as I’m pulling out my sweat pants and a t-shirt. He walks up behind me, getting close without touch my back. He places his palm down, flat onto the smooth surface of the dresser. He looks at me through the mirror and I look at him. I don’t answer his question. I don’t know how. “Are we going to address what happened in Mac’s office or are we going to pretend it didn’t happen?”

It happened. There is no way I’ll ever forget a moment of his lips on mine or his hands on my skin and I don’t want to either.

“Do you want to forget it happened?”

“I asked you that question.”

“And I countered.”

“Tara,” he warns. Shawn’s eyes close as his forehead falls forward, down toward the damp skin between my neck and shoulder. He pulls in air as if pulling my scent into his nose. The heat from his exhale causes my body to shiver as goose bumps break out across my skin. “You can’t handle me. I don’t know if there is a woman that exists that can.”

“And you’ll never know because you won’t take the chance to find out.” He looks back at me, staring into the eyes of my reflection in the mirror. I do the same to him.

“You’re probably right.” Shawn pushes off the dresser, turns, and walks out of my bedroom.

I don’t understand him. He has the perfect parents and a great childhood. Why is he so against relationships? It’s something I shouldn’t concern myself with. Even if Shawn dated, was interested in a woman more than once, it wouldn’t be me.

He’s wrong though. I could handle him if given a shot.

I huff out a breath of air and then finish grabbing my necessities to put on clean clothes so I can go see Pam.

What I didn’t expect was to find my brother here as well. There is nothing like the time we have with those we love the most. Every moment is precious because we aren’t promised tomorrow. Hold on to them tight and cherish them while you’re given the chance.

Thanksgiving in Georgia, riding four-wheelers, eating good food, and enjoying our family, has been a tradition in my family for the past ten years. My parents discovered an ATV park here when I was in junior high. I’ve been riding four-wheelers since I was a small kid. I love it. Having a machine between my thighs and riding until my thumb is numb is my idea of relaxation. I don’t need a beach. I need dirt and a Yamaha.

We were coming here so often that my parents bought a smaller, second home in the tiny country town where the park is located. Since then it’s had a few upgrades. The kitchen was redesigned the way my mother wanted and an in-ground pool was installed five years ago.

You only live once, might as well enjoy it to the fullest and do the things you love. That’s my parents’ motto and I sorta like it and try to follow suit.

Tara and I arrived this morning. My parents came yesterday so mom could prepare everything for the meal we enjoyed earlier tonight. Shane, my brother, arrived a few hours ago. My other roommates, Tara’s brother, Kylie, and Layla, Mason’s other sister, should arrive within the hour. Tomorrow, we all plan on spending the whole day riding.

It’s been nearly two weeks since the drugging incident, but it’s never far from my mind. I want to beat the shit out of the guy that tried to rape her and if I ever see him again, it’ll happen. I’m certain of that. The son of a bitch should be in a cell right now. No, that would be too kind. He deserves far worse.

Mom and Dad tried to talk her into going to the cops about the incident, but Tara refused. It pisses me off that a grown ass woman — a fucking adult — still gives a damn that her shitty ass parents would blame her for what happened. Oh, I’m certain her bitch ass mother would, but Tara shouldn’t care what she or anyone else thinks.

The parties at my house have mellowed since then. We’ve all been hanging out at Mac’s more and more which suits me just fine. When Tara works, I get impeccable service, not that she needs to works there and I’m hoping to get her to quit once I take over the ownership of the studio. She still has another full semester of school when this year ends, plus her writing and two jobs. I don’t see how she manages everything she has going on. Something will have to give. Now that she is getting paid for working at the studio, I think it’ll be a no brainer.

“Here, son.” I glance up to see my dad holding a bottle of Corona out, offering it to me. I gladly take it.

“Thanks, old man.” When the cap is twisted off, I bring the cold glass bottle up to my lips, taking a sip of beer. We finished eating half an hour ago. I’m stuffed, I’m sure my dad and brother are too. Shane headed off the bed a few minutes ago. Mom’s cleaning up the mess we all made and Tara is seated down from me at the other end of the couch with her nose buried into her eReader.

“So what’s this I hear about you buying the studio from your boss?” I roll my head in his direction to my right, laying a thick glare toward Tara’s head. She isn’t paying me a lick of attention, but I’ll have a word with her later. It’s not that I’m keeping secrets from my parents. I don’t need to, but the less amount of people that know of my plans, means there is less of a chance on it becoming public knowledge before I’m ready. Before I find out who’s stealing money from me.

I feel my lower leg being nudged so I turn my attention back my dad. He’s shaking his head.

“Your grandmother,” he says as if clarifying that it wasn’t Tara that spilled the beans. “You’re lucky she’s in Florida and doesn’t live back home any longer. That old lady can’t keep anything to herself. The whole congregation of her church probably knows too. You know how she brags.” He shakes his head while laughing about his mother-in-law.

That I do. Old people are something else. If all old men do is sit around with their buddies drinking coffee and talking about the weather while old ladies talk about everyone and their mother, then please kill me before I get old. There’s got to be more in life than sitting around, waiting to die.