Do you Believe in Fate? Ch 7
Hey guys sorry this took so long! I was kinda playing with the ending; I also now have a Beta! So I would like to thank her for doing such a great job helping me with this chapter! Anyway enjoy!
OH question… how do feel about a story with Brady? Just wondering!
Seven Days….
…And I've already lost him?
I ran out into the rain only to be jerked back inside by Paul.
"You can't go out there! It's storming!"
"I need to find him!"
"Then we'll go look, you stay here in case he comes back."
"No, I care about him too Paul, if anything happens to him then I will never forgive myself."
"He's better at taking care of himself then you think."
"That may be the case, but this isn't La Push. This is Lafayette and it's much bigger and he doesn't know it like the back of his hand like he does the rez."
Paul's lips formed a hard thin line, he obviously knew I was right and he didn't like it.
"Fine," he ground out, as he turned around and grabbed up the pile of jackets, picking out his own and chucking the rest at the boys who seemed more intent on listening to mine and Paul's conversation rather than figuring out whose jacket was whose. "You guys are coming too."
They were more than happy to comply and quickly followed us out the door into the darkness of the stormy night.
Paul led me to his truck, insisting that if I had to be out here, that there was no way he was taking the chance of me getting sick, and the three boys fanned out and began to search the area.
We crept at a snail's pace among the apartment buildings before we got to the local skate park. We had no luck.
I sighed as we pulled into a parking space at the apartment complex and went inside, where I curled up onto the couch and let the tears and emotion overcome me. I began to sob, but almost immediately felt Paul wrap his arms around me and pull me into his chest, where I buried my face. I could feel his fingers run through my hair and heard his words of comfort, but nothing really helped.
I couldn't stop thinking about how I'd let Tommy down, and hated myself for it. Despite his size, he was still just a kid and he shouldn't have to be going through what he was going through, alone. I didn't want him to feel pain anymore. I know why he left tonight, and I knew I was to blame for it.
What am I supposed to do?
…..
I'm not sure how long I sat there and cried, but I ended up falling asleep, curled up on the couch against Paul. I woke up the next morning to the sound of the front door opening. I opened my eyes and in front of me stood Tommy.
"Tommy?" I whispered my voice hoarse from crying so hard the night before.
Tommy looked up at me and his eyes widened in surprise, making it apparent that I looked worse than I thought. I got up and ran over to him, throwing my arms around him. I heard a soft grunt as I hit him square in the chest, and he stumbled back a little bit, obviously shocked.
"Were you… crying?" He asked uncertainly.
I nod as tears begin to leak from my eyes again.
"Wait! Are you crying now?"
"No!" I say pulling back and wiping my eyes on my sleeve.
"Why would you cry for me? I was so mean to you yesterday…" He mumbled looking at the floor.
I laughed softly, "Because I was worried sick about you, and nothing that you have said or will say is going to change the fact that I care about your safety and what happens to you."
"You…care?"
The way he asked that question, as if the concept is so foreign to him, broke my heart.
"Of course," I whispered.
He turned away from me then, but for just a moment, I saw a glimmer of a smile, and for now that was enough for me.
"Are you hungry?" I queried, a smile lingering on my own face.
"Yes!" chorused Tommy and the rest of the guys, who had all apparently passed out on my floor last night. I looked back, smiled and shook my head before I headed towards the kitchen to start on breakfast.
As I hurried around the kitchen, the entire time I cooked, I wished I hadn't offered breakfast to five gigantic men.
I'm quite not used to cooking for a small army just quite yet…
*Later*
I got home from work later that day to find the living room spotless. An appreciative smile adorned my face, feeling elated that the boys has wanted to help me out today. I heard a rumbling in the kitchen and turned the corner to see the familiar form of one of the guys.
I think back to how worried my parents were about me living alone, and shake my head slightly amused, knowing that my apartment is running rampant with large, overly muscular men, one of whom is playing Susie homemaker. Upon fully entering the kitchen I see Paul standing over the stove as he boils water.
"Paul? Sweetie? What cha doin'?" I innocently ask.
"Umm…," he looked down sheepishly, "I thought I would fix you dinner… You know because you had had such a hard night and ….stuff….," he mumbled.
"Really?" I exclaimed excitedly, "You didn't have to do that!"
He gave a small smile, "I wanted to."
"So what are we having?"
"Spaghetti."
"Oohh…" I winced.
"What's wrong? You don't like spaghetti do you!" He looked down at the ground as if scolding himself; he appeared to be really mad.
"Paul it's fine! You didn't know! Don't beat yourself up about it! And it's not that I don't like spaghetti, it's just that I can't eat it… it upsets my stomach…"
"I'm sorry…"
"No! I'm sorry. You were sweet enough to fix me dinner; you have nothing to be sorry about! Besides we can always just feed that to the boys and fix… alfredo!"
He gives a small smile and a nod, "So what else can't you eat?"
"Not too much stuff…. I can't eat a whole lot of tomato sauces, some I can, some I can't. I can't drink Orange juice, and overly greasy foods bother me. I do, however, love sweets!"
He smile fully at this, "Then you are going to love dessert!"
"Dessert? You made dessert!" I jumped up and down like an excited schoolgirl.
At that point, his phone let out a shrill ring. He looked down at the caller id before flipping it open.
He didn't say two words before an alarmed look appeared on his face, and he quickly hung up.
He looked over at me, "I'm sorry Meg…. An emergency has come up. I have to go."
"Is everything alright?" I question warily.
"Yeah, everything is fine for now; we just need to keep it that way."
With a confused nod I watched as he quickly made his way out of the apartment. I stood there contemplating what to do, before the sweet scent of chocolate reached my nose. I walked over to the oven, opened the door and peered inside; sitting on the top shelf was a batch of the most delicious looking brownies. A soft smile flits at my lips as I think of Paul and how much I wish that other guys could be even half as fantastic as he is.
A couple of hours later Tommy got home, it's a little late but because I know that there was an emergency I'm going to let it slide.
"Is everything alright?" I question as I met him at the door.
"Yeah… it's fine for now."
"Why does everyone keep saying 'for now'? Could something go wrong later?" I was confused, and slightly annoyed by the repeated sentiment.
"It's a possibility… Just know that if I get called in the middle of the night to go help that's where I'm going."
"No Tommy, you aren't going anywhere in the middle of the night."
"But Sam might need me!"
"If Sam needs you that bad then he can come get you himself. I don't even know what is going on and you won't tell me. You just expect me to allow you to leave home in the middle of the night because of some emergency? I don't think so."
First off, if Sam needs you and if it's that serious he can come tell me himself. I need to know what's going on, and 'Sam might need me' is not an excuse to go gallivanting about so late at night. Secondly, if by some miracle I do allow you to leave this house with Sam Uley, he can come and get you then give you a ride home as well.
Tommy glared at me, I know he didn't like me actually laying down the law. From what I'd heard, after he got too big for his parents to beat up on, they ignored him and let him do whatever he pleased. Tommy is a good kid, he just needs some direction.
"Fine," he said through clenched teeth, before stomping past me and into his room, where he slammed the door hard enough for the walls to shake slightly. Leaving me standing in the lounge room at a loss with what to do with my foster child and his attitude.