Page 15 of Dove
A man who has never done anything to help me.
I nearly drop him right then and there, but when I look over at him, he’s far too close, his face nearly pressed against mine. His eyes smoking hot and his lips close enough that I can feel his breath on my face.
And I shouldn’t feel anything, because this man has done more bad than good in my life. He's deserted me more times than I can count, and can't speak to me without lying. But the smell of him, the feel of him breathing on my face and the rock-hard muscles under my fingers, makes the rest of the world go suddenly blurry. Like nothing around us exists.
“Second time you’ve caught me in five minutes,” he says quietly.
I jump and check my memory. Did I say that out loud rather than in my head? I could have sworn I was quiet, but if I was…
How did he know exactly what I was thinking?
“Well I can’t exactly let you fall,” I say, forcing my voice to be steady. Louder than it should be.
More aggressive.
I can hear that I sound defensive, and I hate it, but I can’t take it back now.
He lets a slow, breathy laugh past his lips, and his eyes narrow slightly. “Why not?”
Cool, Sammy. Be cool.
“You’re family,” I say quietly. “You belong to us. Even if I hate you.”
And it doesn’t mean anything. Not really. Family is just family, and it’s not even really true. He and I aren’t related. We barely know each other.
But the way his eyes soften and grow three shades brighter makes me think that it means more to him than I intended.
Which isn’t okay.
I stand him back up and wrench myself away, desperate to stop touching him, and come up against another body directly behind me. I whirl in the arms of that body and see Cameron, who has of course been watching this whole time, and looks both disgusted and confused. He shoots one dark, bone-searing look at Bear, sneers, and then turns and tows me away from the scene, muttering to himself.
But of course we can’t get away without any repercussions.
Not when it comes to Bear.
“Cameron,” his voice snaps from behind us. “Samantha. You’re moving into my house this week. You get into too much trouble in this town. The place is buzzing with rumors about youtwo, and I’m tired of hearing it. I want you both where I can keep an eye on you. No arguments.”
Cameron pauses, every muscle in his body stiffening, but seals his lips shut and keeps walking.
And I go with him.
I’ve already told my stepfather too much this morning. I can’t afford another interaction with him.
Not until I get the last one out of my head.
Bear
"You belong to us. You belong to us. You belong to us," I chant to myself, still caught in the phrase.
I enter my office, such as it is, and throw my keys on the desk, then finish the memory.
"Even if I hate you."
I blow out a sharp, sarcastic breath at that, because it's exactly the sort of finish I'd expect from the girl. Yes, the first phrase–hell, the fact that she'd waded into that fight in the first place–was so fraught with emotion that I barely wanted to touch it, for fear it would disintegrate into a million pieces, the head of a dandelion in hands too rough for it.
Christ, I'd been afraid to touch it since yesterday afternoon, when it was first handed to me, a blossom too small and delicate to believe. The phrase had been running through my mind nonstop, until I was nearly sick of it.
Though that didn't stop me from reciting it to myself. Just one last time.
