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Authors: Tara Oakes
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ready to leave after having a beer with my boys.
She looked me square in the eyes and told me no . She might have actually been the first woman to ever actually say no to me.
And it was a fucking turn-on.
She didn’t want me in that moment, didn’t need me, yet it triggered something in me. It made me want to make her want me. To make her need me. It never even occurred to me then that it would have the same effect on me. I would need her . I would want her .
I pull over harshly to the side of the road, jump off the bike and storm off into the waist high weeds, kicking at the dirt in anger. My hands fly up to my head, holding the sides, pulling at the hair in fury. My voice screams out into the emptiness around me as I drop to me knees.
I’m never going to be able to get away from this. I don’t even know if I want to. I’m mad at her, angry as hell at what she’s done, but even more pissed off at what’s become of me because of it.
I had my moment, let off some steam, said some shit to hurt her as much as she hurt me. I’m not the type of man to run from his shit. I needed my space, and it did me no good.
It’s time to face this storm head-on and to stop running away like a little pussy.
EPILOGUE
CHARLIE
I leave Dana and T.J. to answer the door.
I thought she was here to help me? Some help she is. I feel like I’m babysitting a pair of horny teenagers, trying to keep them from molesting each other. I notice movement out of my peripheral and hear the confirmation from the creaking leather sounds, that as soon as I get up, they both readjust to fill my empty seat and gain closer proximity to each other.
“I’m coming!” I yell at the knocking door. Give me a minute, already.
I pull the handle hard.
And then I stop breathing.
I’m not ready to see him. Not now, maybe not ever. I look like shit, I feel like shit, and I’m not in the right frame of mind to talk to this man right now.
“Um… we’ll go grab some lunch,” T.J. is on foot, grabbing Dana’s hand and pulling her up to follow.
“I need some more things, so we’ll hit some stores, too,” Dana adds.
I manage to somehow speak. “Dana, you’re going home later today. You don’t need to buy more things to have to pack.”
She smiles. “Actually, I’m not leaving, But, you have more important things to deal with right now.” She glances at the leather-vested man who just walked through the door. “We’ll talk later, sis.”
She quickly leans in to give me a peck on the cheek in passing before I can object to her new change in travel plans.
With the two of them gone, it’s just him and me now.
Holy-fucking-shit.
“How you doing, kid?” he asks. He looks tired, worn, worried.
I don’t answer.
He clears his throat awkwardly. “Let’s have a little father-daughter talk.”
My words spit themselves out harshly at him. “You’re not my father. I had a father. A rea l dad. He died. You’re just a cheap imitation in a leather vest.”
He flinches, hurt. I don’t care.
It doesn’t matter what some fucking DNA test can prove.
Vince Cauley will never be my father.
He sits at the table regardless of my answer, apparently resigned to have this chat anyway. He folds his hands atop one another and waits patiently.
Fuck .
I’m not getting out of this short of kicking him out of my place, and even then, I doubt he’ll leave.
“I need a minute,” I call behind me as I grab my handbag and head into the bathroom.
I search quickly and find the recently filled bottle I picked up at the pharmacy on my way home yesterday. The doc was a little hesitant to give me a refill but I’m a nurse. I knew the trigger words to use to convince him.
I work the cap clumsily, nervously, but finally get it open.
I pour two pills into my palm and slam them down my throat quickly, using the tap water from the faucet to swallow them down with. I move to put the bottle away, but think twice about it and grab another pill to make the
She looked me square in the eyes and told me no . She might have actually been the first woman to ever actually say no to me.
And it was a fucking turn-on.
She didn’t want me in that moment, didn’t need me, yet it triggered something in me. It made me want to make her want me. To make her need me. It never even occurred to me then that it would have the same effect on me. I would need her . I would want her .
I pull over harshly to the side of the road, jump off the bike and storm off into the waist high weeds, kicking at the dirt in anger. My hands fly up to my head, holding the sides, pulling at the hair in fury. My voice screams out into the emptiness around me as I drop to me knees.
I’m never going to be able to get away from this. I don’t even know if I want to. I’m mad at her, angry as hell at what she’s done, but even more pissed off at what’s become of me because of it.
I had my moment, let off some steam, said some shit to hurt her as much as she hurt me. I’m not the type of man to run from his shit. I needed my space, and it did me no good.
It’s time to face this storm head-on and to stop running away like a little pussy.
EPILOGUE
CHARLIE
I leave Dana and T.J. to answer the door.
I thought she was here to help me? Some help she is. I feel like I’m babysitting a pair of horny teenagers, trying to keep them from molesting each other. I notice movement out of my peripheral and hear the confirmation from the creaking leather sounds, that as soon as I get up, they both readjust to fill my empty seat and gain closer proximity to each other.
“I’m coming!” I yell at the knocking door. Give me a minute, already.
I pull the handle hard.
And then I stop breathing.
I’m not ready to see him. Not now, maybe not ever. I look like shit, I feel like shit, and I’m not in the right frame of mind to talk to this man right now.
“Um… we’ll go grab some lunch,” T.J. is on foot, grabbing Dana’s hand and pulling her up to follow.
“I need some more things, so we’ll hit some stores, too,” Dana adds.
I manage to somehow speak. “Dana, you’re going home later today. You don’t need to buy more things to have to pack.”
She smiles. “Actually, I’m not leaving, But, you have more important things to deal with right now.” She glances at the leather-vested man who just walked through the door. “We’ll talk later, sis.”
She quickly leans in to give me a peck on the cheek in passing before I can object to her new change in travel plans.
With the two of them gone, it’s just him and me now.
Holy-fucking-shit.
“How you doing, kid?” he asks. He looks tired, worn, worried.
I don’t answer.
He clears his throat awkwardly. “Let’s have a little father-daughter talk.”
My words spit themselves out harshly at him. “You’re not my father. I had a father. A rea l dad. He died. You’re just a cheap imitation in a leather vest.”
He flinches, hurt. I don’t care.
It doesn’t matter what some fucking DNA test can prove.
Vince Cauley will never be my father.
He sits at the table regardless of my answer, apparently resigned to have this chat anyway. He folds his hands atop one another and waits patiently.
Fuck .
I’m not getting out of this short of kicking him out of my place, and even then, I doubt he’ll leave.
“I need a minute,” I call behind me as I grab my handbag and head into the bathroom.
I search quickly and find the recently filled bottle I picked up at the pharmacy on my way home yesterday. The doc was a little hesitant to give me a refill but I’m a nurse. I knew the trigger words to use to convince him.
I work the cap clumsily, nervously, but finally get it open.
I pour two pills into my palm and slam them down my throat quickly, using the tap water from the faucet to swallow them down with. I move to put the bottle away, but think twice about it and grab another pill to make the
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