Hello everyone. I hope you all had a nice weekend. I don't really have time to say much other than thank you for all of your reviews and adds. I do hope you like this chapter. There is a small section that may be a little intense. Let me know what you think and thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with the Twilight series.
Chapter 3
"Hi," I said softly as I looked up at him. "Jason left for work about fifteen minutes ago, so, you just miss him."
"I'm actually here to see you," Paul said and I laughed nervously.
"Me?" I asked as I carefully kept my head slightly to the side so he couldn't see the scar on my face. My hair was up and in a messy bun on the back of my head and I didn't want him to see my scar. That desire was stronger with him than with anyone else and I didn't know why. He smiled at me and nodded his head while he scratched the back of his neck.
"Yeah, can I come in and . . . talk?" he asked as he lowered his hand from his neck. My grip tightened on the cordless phone in my hand as I hesitated to answer. Something told me that Paul wouldn't hurt me, but that fear was always in the back of my mind, however, as he looked at me expectantly I had to give him an answer.
"Um, could you give me ten minutes to get dressed?" I asked and his eyes left my face then and scanned down my body before he quickly returned his eyes to mine.
"Sure, I'll just wait out here," he said and I blushed before I nodded and closed the door. I didn't bother locking it before I walked over to the coffee table and put the phone down. I made my way to my room with my heart pounding a million miles a minute. I quickly grabbed a pair of jeans from my closet before I grabbed a t-shirt from my dresser drawer. After changing my underwear and throwing on a bra I got dressed and pulled my hair out of the messy bun it was in before I ran a brush through the curly mass. When I was done, I debated if I should have kept it up because my curls were frizzy and some were sticking up at odd angles. However, after a second of debating I decided that I was going to leave it down and with it being frizzy it hid my face better.
I walked out of my bedroom, down the hall, and stopped when I reached the living room. I looked out the large window that that the TV rested in front of and through the open curtains I could see Paul standing on the porch. His back was to the house as he leaned down onto the wood railing, supporting his weight with his hands and looking out across the yard and to the road that the house sat on. It gave me the opportunity to study him a bit, and I could clearly see his profile from where I stood at the end of the hall where it met the living room.
His features were sharp, but smooth at the same time, and his russet skin looked like it glowed gold as the cloud filtered sunlight hit his face. His shoulders were broad and thanks to the fitted cotton fabric of his t-shirt it was easy to see the strong muscles of his arms, shoulders and back. I would admit to no one but myself that I found Paul to be a very handsome guy, but it was pointless. Despite his staring problem a guy like him wouldn't at a girl like me with any sort of interest. Shaking my head I continued across the living room and to the door. I opened it and Paul was quick to the doorway from where he had been standing.
"Come on in," I said as I gave him a tight smile and opened the door further so he could step inside. He walked into the house and glanced around before he looked back down at me. I closed the door and nervously stuck my hands into the front pocket of my jeans. "Um, do you want something to drink?" I asked and he grinned.
"Sure," he said and I walked past him towards the kitchen. I heard him follow me and when we walked into the eat in kitchen, I gestured towards the dining table without looking at him.
"You can have a seat if you like," I said as I moved to the fridge and opened it. "We have milk, orange juice, soda, water, and grape juice," I said as I turned my eyes to where Paul was settled at the table.
"Water's fine," he said and I nodded before I grabbed the water pitcher for him and the carton of orange juice for me. I closed the fridge with my barefoot and turned to the counter behind me. I sat the carton and the pitcher onto the counter and grabbed two tall glasses out of the cupboard and sat them down on the counter. The silence was a bit heavy since I could feel him staring at me as I poured the water and juice into their respected glasses. I put the carton and pitcher back into the fridge before I picked up the glasses and walked over to the table. "Thanks," Paul said as I sat his glass of water in front of him and slowly sat down on the chair across from him. I nodded as I took a drink of my orange juice and then subtly spun the glass as I sat it down onto the wooden table.
"So, um, why are you here?" I asked after a few minutes of Paul just staring at me in the silence that surrounded us.
"I just wanted to check on you," he said and I raised an eyebrow at his words. "You didn't come to Sam and Emily's on Saturday and Jason said you weren't feeling very well. If I hadn't had to work yesterday, I would have come over then."
"Oh," I said softly before I looked away from him and at my glass of juice.
"You don't look like you've been sick," he said and I looked at him again. "Why did Jason say you were?" Lying never got a person anywhere and I didn't know why Jason told them I wasn't feeling well. I tried not to lie; I usually just omitted things or danced around certain aspects when people asked certain questions
"I wasn't sick," I said and he frowned. "I'm . . . ," I trailed off and sighed heavily before I lowered both my hands to my lap and nervously fidgeted with my fingers. "If you didn't notice on Friday, I'm not a very social person. I don't do well around people in intimate settings."
"You're doing fine right now and it's just the two of us," he said, still frowning.
"Glad you think so," I muttered under my breath as I looked away from him and out the patio window.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked and I looked at him quickly with my own frown on my face.
"You heard me?" I asked and he nodded as he seemed to think quickly.
"You didn't exactly whisper," he said, but I knew that I had. However, I let it slide. "Are you going to answer me?" he asked. There was an edge to his voice that made me shift in my seat before I reached for my orange juice and took a drink. My insides were shaking in slight fear, but like at the door I had the sense that he wouldn't hurt me.
"What does it matter?" I asked, answering his question with a question of my own.
"It matters to me," he said and I frowned. "Do I make you uncomfortable?" I looked back at my glass and spun it again and answered him without looking at him.
"Sort of," I said honestly and then he was silent for minute.
"Why?" he asked softly. His tone suggested that he was hurt by my admission and I looked up at him to see the same hurt that was in his tone was in his eyes.
"I'm not comfortable around people I don't know," I said and his eyes softened as he seemed to study my face for a few seconds.
"Is there anything I can do to make you comfortable around me?" he asked and I shook my head as I shrugged my shoulders.
"Not really. I just get nervous, especially when Jason isn't around," I said.
"You're close to your brother," he said more than asked but I nodded anyway. He nodded too and let out a heavy breath before he took a drink of his water. "Why do you live with him and not your parents? When we asked him he never told us why." I bristled and my entire body tensed at his words. It really wasn't any of his business, and as he took in the change of my body language he sat back in his chair and shook his head. "Never mind, you don't have to answer that." He looked at the table and ran his right hand over the top of his head and ruffled his short black hair.
"Paul," I started but stopped when his eyes shot to mine so quickly I was surprised he didn't have whiplash for how fast he raised his head. "What?" I asked when I noticed he was giving me a strange look. He shook his head and blinked as he smiled gently at me.
"Nothing," he said slowly and I cleared my throat as I shifted in my seat again. "What were you saying?" he asked and I looked away from him before I stood from my chair and brought my half empty glass to the sink.
"I think you should probably go," I said as I dumped out my glass before I rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher.
"What? Why?" he asked quickly and I turned around to find him standing not three feet from me. I hadn't even heard him get out of the chair let alone cross half the room. He was even wearing a pair of heavy boots that should have echoed loudly on the tiled floor. I gasped and took a step back and found myself hitting my back on the counter.
My hands gripped the back of the counter behind me in surprise and I shook my hair out of my eyes as I looked up at him. Suddenly, his eyes flickered to the left side of my face and his eyes darkened again. He closed the small distance between us and held the right side of my face with his left hand and pushed my hair from my face to completely reveal my scar to his eyes. It all happened so quickly it took me a second to react and I raised my hands to his chest and tried to push him away from me.
"Get away from me! Don't touch me!" I shouted as I started shaking. He stumbled back from me with his hands raised and a scowl on his face. I turned away from him, using the counter to support my weight as I tried to calm myself down. My eyes were closed tight as the tears welled and the panic set in. He hadn't been rough with me in the slightest but when he grabbed me, I flashed back to the night I got the scars that not only marred my body but my mind too. I went back to the night that changed my life, and who I was, for forever.
"What happened to you? Who did that to you?" he asked quietly from behind me. "Harper," he said. His voice was rough but gentle at the same time. It only made the tears win and they fell from my eyes. "Harper, talk to me."
"Just leave, please, just leave," I said my voice shaking as the tears continued to fall. I heard him literally growl behind me before I heard him storm off and the front door slam shut. I let out a sob then as I slowly lowered myself to the kitchen floor and brought my knees to my chest. I wrapped my arms around my shins and rested my forehead against my knees as I cried.
My body was shaking as the disgusting man behind me held me tightly to him and with a hunting knife to my throat. "She's such a pretty young thing isn't she?" he sneered behind me and I felt like I was going to throw up.
"Don't hurt her," came my father's weak voice from where he was tied to one of our dining room chairs and sitting barely ten feet from where I stood with the man. Blood was pouring from a wound on my father's forehead and he was trying to fight the knots that bound him to the chair but it was useless. My mother laid on the floor at his feet unconscious, at least I hoped she was. Her dress was torn and blood was coming out of her mouth and even in the dim lighting of the unfinished part of the basement I could tell that her once tan skin was ashen and pale. "I'll give you whatever you want," my father said, "just don't . . . don't hurt her." My father's green eyes that were full of pain and fear pleaded with mine. He wanted me to stay strong and to fight as best I could, but I was scared.
"No one can give me what I want back," the man said darkly before he chuckled. "However, you're daughter will probably be a little more fun than your wife." He lowered his head a bit so he could whisper in my ear, but it was loud enough that my father heard him all the same. "I bet you haven't even been kissed by a boy yet have you sweetheart," he said before he licked my earlobe. I tried to pull my head away but the knife at my throat stopped me and I whimpered and started to cry as he kissed the skin of my neck just under my ear.
"Stop!" my father shouted as he fought harder against the knots and jumped in the chair, making it shift positions so he was even closer to my mother's unconscious form. "Just let her go." The man raised his head and laughed again.
"I don't think so," he said as he raised the knife from my throat, kissed the top of my head and ran the knife along my left cheek from my temple to my jaw. I screamed at the pain and closed my eyes before he roughly pulled me back and into the finished part of the basement towards the room that used to be Jason's. I could hear my father shouting my name as I screamed and tried to fight against the man's tight grip.
"Harper!" he shouted. "Harper!" I screamed as the man threw me down onto Jason's old bed and I tried to calmer away but he caught me easily. I tried to fight him off as he grabbed at me, but it was no use as he ripped my t-shirt from my body. I screamed again and he punched me across my right cheek while my left continued to bleed everywhere.
"Harper!" he mocked with a laugh before he roughly grabbed my face and forced his lips onto mine. I gagged against his lips as he stuck his tongue in my mouth, but I couldn't fight him. He was too strong and I was too weak and his hands were everywhere. There was no escaping him.
"Harper wake up!" a voice demanded and strong hands were on my shoulders. I fought the hands out of instinct, but their grip only tightened the owner pulled me closer. "Harper it's me! It's Jason," he said and I opened my eyes to see my brother looking down at me with nothing but concern etched across his face.
I let out a sob before I threw my arms around him. Jason's body stiffened at first, but it took him half a second to wrap his arms around me and embrace me. For the first time in three years I wanted the comfort only a hug could bring and I cried into his neck.
"It's okay, Harper, I'm here," he said soothingly. "It's okay." He let me cry for a few minutes until the tears finally quieted and I pulled back from him to wipe at my eyes. "Why were you sleeping on the kitchen floor?" he asked gently when I lowered my hands to my lap and I looked up at him with a frown until I remembered the events of the morning. I must have fallen asleep at some point during my breakdown after Paul left.
"I must have fallen asleep," I muttered, saying my thoughts out loud. My voice sounded odd and my throat hurt a bit. I realized then that I must have been screaming in my sleep. "What time is it?"
"A little after one," he said as he gently pushed my hair from my face. I didn't flinch like I normally would have and after my nightmare I found my brother's warm touch comforting for the first time in a long time. "Paul said he came by this morning and that I should probably come home for lunch to check on you. What happened because he was in a foul mood all morning?"
"He noticed my scar and started asking questions," I said, omitting the part where Paul grabbed me upon seeing my scar. Jason would probably punch him in the face if I told him that, and for some funny reason I didn't want Jason to hurt Paul in any way. "I freaked and told him to leave," I said before I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. "When he left I sat down on the floor to get myself together and I must have fallen asleep."
"I heard you screaming when I pulled up in the truck," he said. "Was it a nightmare?"
"Yeah," I said softly as I shook my head and stood from the floor, "but I don't want to talk about it." Jason sighed as he too stood from the floor. "What do you want for lunch?" I asked, trying to change the subject.
"Harper," Jason said but I shook my head and gave him a pointed look.
"What do you want for lunch, Jason?" I asked and he pursed his lips.
"Surprise me," he said before he turned away from me. "I've got to make a quick phone call. I'll be right back." I nodded and went to the fridge as I tried to put the images from my dream behind me.