Hiya! My sincerest apologies that it took over a month to update. I had the best intention for this chapter as a sort milestone for the plot and the characters as well (Chapter 50 yay!) But well, if you know my M.O. by now, I hope you take my words with a grain of salt until they come to fruition. I did indeed have to split this chapter. So yeah, all the good stuff (if I can call it that) is coming next chapter.
Thanks to Idcam and BanannaSammich for the reviews. Yes, Heather may just be more like Mark than anyone realizes.
Kevin Nash was not pleased in the slightest. In fact, he was angrier than a grizzly bear with a sore ass. The pinched-faced woman behind the counter was not easing his disposition, either.
"I'm sorry, Sir. There is nothing," she told him in feigned sympathy although it was evident, she was doing a poor job at masking her annoyance. She tried to smile through her pursed lips and Kevin thought if she really did smile, her caked-up face would crack. Such an idea would have normally given him a good chuckle, but at this moment it only served to fuel his aggravation.
"Listen, lady, I've had a long, shitty ass day. All I wanna do is get on a fucking plane, so I can go home. Can you comprehend that?" he roared at her as he pounded his fist on the counter.
"I understand that, Sir," she emphasized her words to demonstrate that she didn't appreciate him insulting her intelligence, "and I'm sorry that your flight was canceled, but there is really nothing else I can do for you at this time."
"No, you don't understand. And yeah, you're sorry, but not in any way that's relevant to me, because you still can't get me a damn flight after these dumb fucks were the ones that canceled on me, " Kevin growled at her. Fuck him for flying Delta.
"Sir, if you continue to shout at me like that, I'm going to have to call security," the woman sneered up at him, not the least bit fazed by his tantrum, which was as large as he was.
He opened his mouth, on the verge of blowing up again, but thought better of it. "Isn't there someone else I can talk to?" he demanded in a relatively milder tone, but only just. This woman was trying his already short fuse and her incessantly referring to him as Sir was only making matters worse.
The woman made an obvious display of rolling her eyes. Seeing that she was already aware that he was pissed, it was apparent that she didn't give a hoot that he saw her otherwise inappropriate actions. "Of course. Let me get my supervisor, Sir," she grumbled almost sarcastically, not bothering to even attempt to placate him.
She disappeared into a back room for a couple of moments. When she emerged, she was being followed by a man and the very sight of him caused further rage inside the behemoth for some reason.
The man was nearly a foot and a half shorter than Kevin, with a half-bald head and beady little eyes that made him look like a rat. He was wringing his hands apprehensively as he stared up at the furious giant before him. "I'm s-sorry, Sir. But m-my hands are t-tied here. If you'd l-like to stay on st-standby, p-perhaps-" the man's stuttering in his squeaky little voice was cut off when Kevin's cell phone began to ring and he turned away to answer it.
"What?" He barked into the receiver without even looking at the caller ID on the tiny screen.
"What crawled up your ass and died, man? Shit, " Mark's gravelly voice came out distorted over the other end.
Kevin released a huff. "My bad. I'm fucking pissed because this worthless fucking airline canceled my flight and these dumb fucks can't get me on another one," he spoke loudly, not caring who heard him. After a moment, he asked, "What's up?" He knew Mark wouldn't be calling him just to chat.
"Are the girls supposed to be at this damn house show on Saturday? Shit, I can't remember for the life of me."
"Need another chair shot?" Kevin jested.
"Like a fucking hole in the head," Mark groused.
"Not that I recall," he answered. Vince rarely used them at house shows for whatever reason. Kevin thought it was odd that Mark would call him to ask that. He was normally on top of all of that. Especially when it came to the sisters. He needed to know where they were going to be and when. Who was going to be there? A fine job he had done so far, Kevin mused mirthlessly.
"I'll have to double-check with Vince," Mark stated in a tone that suggested his answer was useless.
Why the fuck are you calling me then? Kevin wondered, feeling his agitations rising again. "Sure," he muttered, having nothing else to say.
"So, what are ya gonna do?" Mark inquired
"About what?" Kevin growled mildly.
"About your flight, dickhead," Mark returned with the same irritation.
"Fuck if I know. Probably wait here on standby. Or just get a room. These stupid motherfuckers, I swear," snarled Kevin.
"I reckon they won't have anything anytime soon what with the holiday. Probably have to wait 'til tomorrow." Mark commented in his southern drawl.
"You're probably right," Kevin affirmed. "Guess, I'll just have to get a room." He was beyond frustrated that that was his only option. After the day he had, he just wanted to get home for a day before he had to leave out for the next house show.
There was a long silence from the other end and Kevin wondered if Mark had hung up or maybe the call had dropped.
"Why go through all that bullshit, man? Why don't you just come stay at my place?"
Kevin felt like he had been knocked on his ass and then ran over with a truck because he was floored. Had he just heard this motherfucker, right? Stay at his house? There's no way that's what he had said. Hell hadn't frozen over yet and even then, that wouldn't happen in a million years.
"Stay at your place?" Kevin spoke slowly, giving both himself and Mark the opportunity to process the request. Kevin could scarcely comprehend what he was asking, therefore Mark surely didn't have the slightest idea of what he was saying.
"Hell, I got enough rooms." Mark paused. The reluctance about his proposition was palpable despite his offering it.
Kevin started to tell him, "Mark, I don't think – I don't want to impose, man." He knew damn well he didn't sound very convincing, but the save was better than nothing.
"You telling me you'd rather sleep on a shitty, cramped hotel bed?" Mark asked, sounding strangely as if he was almost insulted by the thought. "It's your choice but I wouldn't offer if you were imposing on me, asshole," he declared sarcastically.
I wasn't talking about you. Kevin had to prevent himself from admitting. Spending the night under the same roof as the little one sounded like nothing short of a disaster, even if it only involved his own inner turmoil. Then in the next instant, just as much as it perturbed him, the thought enthralled him. The thought of being anywhere near her enthralled him. That's why he knew he needed to stay as far away as possible. He knew. That didn't mean he wanted to. Nevertheless, he had to decline, persuaded that it was for the best.
"Thanks for the offer, bro but I'm gonna pass," Kevin determined, attempting not to sound as deflated as he felt.
"Guess you don't spend enough time in fleabag motels, cause that's what you'll get on a night like this. I'm offering you a place to stay for free. Quit being a stubborn jackass, will ya?" the other man grumbled.
Kevin's brows raised upon hearing his words. Was this some sort of setup? Not even a month ago, Mark was poised to rip out his throat like a rabid jackal. Now he was practically insisting that he come stay at his place. Mark's comportment was becoming more and more perplexing. He was beginning to see that maybe the little one's outburst wasn't that unforeseen after all. The apple didn't fall far from the tree he supposed.
Kevin wasn't sure how he was to respond. If he refused, Mark would probably want to know why and well, he didn't have a plausible explanation. If he accepted, that was another matter entirely. On the other hand, maybe things would be fine. He knew he was shitting himself, but it made him somehow feel better about the whole situation.
From the uncomfortably long silence between them, Kevin breathed out, "Sure. Since you won't quit fucking harassing me about it. " His words had come out before he realized what he had agreed to. Once he played them back in his head, all he could do was chuckle while he cursed himself inwardly. "I'll be there soon then," he told Mark, resigned. And added "Thanks, brother." Albeit, he wasn't positive how much he should be thanking him for his own personal torment.
After arranging another flight to depart the next day, late morning, Kevin left the airport to grudgingly return to the Calaway's ranch.
Upon arriving back to Calaway's, Kevin noticed the large house, even on the outside was rather quiet compared to all the hustle and bustle that was taking place even as he had left. He assumed Mark must have shooed everyone away and kicked them out, save a few people.
Kevin was met by Mark at the door and followed him through the foyer, towards the main living room. They stopped underneath the large entryway that led into the room. Kevin felt his body tense and he stopped short at the view that his eyes took in.
Heather and Reves were there on the couch, watching an episode of Daria on MTV. The sight of them, looking oddly like a pair of Siamese cats, was an interesting one, to say the least. Heather sat quite normally. Reves had her legs draped over her sister's lap as she absentmindedly braided and unbraided a lock of the girl's hair which was now free and cascading around her tiny frame.
Even Mark was taken back by the sight as he watched them for a few moments before asking in his gruff voice, "Where are your brothers?"
The sister's attention was brought to the doorway of the room by their father's voice.
Heather's heart lurched in her chest as her breath caught in her lungs when her eyes fell upon the man standing beside her father. She quickly averted her attention back towards the television, too nonplussed to look up at him. What on Earth was he doing here? She could have sworn he had left already. Heather ignored her father's inquiry as her gaze remained fixed on the screen in mock captivation of the Skittles advert that was now playing.
Reves for her part could scarcely contain the wicked grin stretched across her lips when she noticed the duffle bag slung on Nash's shoulder. It appeared that things were about to get very interesting indeed. "Um, I think they took Julie and Hannah out in the Mustang," she said as nonchalantly as possible.
Mark's eyes blazed. "What? It's fucking – " he stopped himself there. "Go show Kev a room he can stay in," he directed.
And what the fuck is wrong with you? Reves questioned inwardly. However, her visage turned to one that was seeking sympathy. "But, Daaad, I'm so comfortable here, " Reves whined in an obnoxious tone. She laid down across the couch and stretched out like a cat, denoting that she just couldn't be bothered. "Make Heather do it," she added, glancing furtively at the younger girl.
His face twisting with indignation, Mark thundered, " Godamnit, will one of you get off your ass and do what I said?" He looked at his younger daughter, who was now glaring at her sister for some reason. "Heather, get up!" he commanded.
The girl jumped at the sound of her father barking her name, and slowly drew her gaze towards him. Her shoulders sagged as she grimaced, noticeably desponded. Why must she be tasked with such a tormenting duty?
When she didn't immediately move to react, Mark grew even more agitated. "That wasn't a request, girl!" he snarled at her.
The fiery expression that she may have shot him was promptly smothered at the sound of his wrathful tone. The tiny girl sprang up from the couch and sprinted past them in much the same manner she had when he reprimanded her earlier.
Mark's voice stopped her just as she reached the stairway. "You better check yourself, girl. I dunno what your issue is but you better fix it real quick!" he warned.
Heather nearly released a sardonic laugh. Her issue? Perhaps her father should not have invited her issue to return here and evidently offered him sojourn. Heather then possessed the urge to cry, but she was far too exasperated for tears at the moment. Has everyone in this damn house gone mad? She questioned herself as she bolted up the stairs.
A smirk tugged across his mouth as Kevin watched her stubby legs taking the steps two by two in a semi-comical fashion. "Looks like her ankle's just fucking fine," he mused without a second thought. His smirk faded when he noticed Mark eyeing him dubiously. After a moment, Mark shifted his attention to the now-empty staircase and Kevin told him, "Thanks again for this, brother. You really didn't have to put me up."
"It's cool," Mark replied as he glowered in the direction she had ran off. His daughter's sudden defiance had him dumbfounded and enraged all at once. He expected that sort of rebellion from Reves. Hell, even his boys had tried to bow up to him once or twice. But Heather had never so much as cut her eyes to him in her entire life and now she was popping an attitude like an insolent little brat. It left him seething as he desired to put the fear of God in her. "That girl is pissing me the fuck off. I could tear her up seven ways to Sunday, right now," he groused.
Kevin simply remained silent. Because he sure as fuck wasn't going to confess that he may very well be the source of her newfound waywardness.
"Anyway, I'll be in the garage, working on one of my bikes for a little bit if you wanna come have a few beers," Mark offered.
"Thanks, brother, but I'm pretty fucking beat. I think I'm just gonna crash if that's cool."
"Sure thing. Well, I guess I'll see ya then. Night ya, pussy."
Kevin's lips stretched into a thin smile. "Night, fucker," he told Mark as he turned to head off.
"Have a good night," Reves sing-songed wryly at Kevin. She sent him a derisive grin that was so conniving, it could cause the Devil to shudder in discomfort.
Turning away from her, Kevin once again climbed the stairs that led to the second floor. This time, however, he didn't stop to gawk at any family photos as he knew Heather was probably waiting on him. He found her at the end of the hall, standing outside a room with its door ajar. Her arms were folded over her small chest and she wore the same scowl from earlier. Or Kevin could see that she was attempting to maintain it, at the very least.
Kevin halted straight in front of her. Mere inches apart, it caused her to suck in a sharp breath and retreat back a step. Her visage faltered as she did so. "Well, there you are," she grumbled, canting her head towards the open door as a means to usher him inside.
Silently, Kevin's gaze drifted to the left side of the hall where Heather's bedroom door lay directly across from them.
Heather's eyes followed his line of sight when she noticed him peering at her bedroom. "Please do not flatter yourself. This room contains the largest bed. I'd receive a grand reproach if I didn't house you here," she protested, eyes narrowed up at him.
"Little One," he murmured as he took a step forward.
His infliction hummed inside her ribcage as she labored to maintain her façade. "G-good night, Mr. Nash," she sneered weakly as her petite frame circumvented his much larger form in order to swiftly scuttle away.
His gargantuan shape hunched forward as he battled the urge to give chase after her. Unfortunately, he knew he couldn't and resigned himself to that ruling. This was not the place or the time to hash out any issues she may have with him.
Entering the room, Kevin's massive shoulder sagged as he released a rumbling sigh. He placed his duffle bag on the bed and sat down. He just wanted the day to be over. This day really fucking blew. He had duked it out with his best friend. Sure they had made up, but he still had the shiner to remind him. His flight was canceled – thanks to that idiotic airline – and he couldn't get home. And the cherry on top of this shit sundae? His Little One was still pissed at him.
Kevin wanted nothing more than sleep. Despite how exhausted he felt, he was certain that with the circumstances sleep may very well evade him. It may very well be an excellent idea to take Mark up on those beers.
When Heather returned downstairs, Reves beamed at her coyly. "Back so soon, Juliet?"
"Do not call me that! Juliet was – oh, never mind," Heather spat shaking her head in exasperation. She had arrived at the bounds of her tolerance for everything and everyone this day. Therefore, she spun on her heels and darted back up the stairs to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her with a crash.
As he was exiting the room, Kevin was caught off guard by the banging of the adjacent door. He chuckled mirthlessly in spite of himself. It seemed she really had had enough of everyone's shit, including his. It was a prospect that didn't leave him overjoyed, but he didn't want to force the issue with her and potentially push her away even more. Heaving another sigh, he headed towards the stairs.
When he reached the bottom, Reves was grinning at him smugly. "Dude, you are just batting a thousand today, aren't you?" she questioned, mockingly.
"Oh, fuck off," Nash snarled, as he glowered at her. He was aware that he probably shouldn't be so quick to bite her head off, but she was a derisive little shit. Anyway, while she could easily throw him under the bus, that couldn't benefit her in the least. Ever the opportunist, she knew as well as he did, that blackmail would be the most advantageous to her. In what manner though, he couldn't say.
That still did not stop her from being offended. "Uh! How fucking rude!" she groused as he stalked off, no longer paying any mind to her.
Heather breathed a sigh of relief once she was safely inside the sanctuary of her own room. That was, permitting that no one came to impede upon her. She shook her head as if breaking all of the negative thoughts and jumbled emotions free. This day had been too overwhelming for her to contend with any longer. Ambling around the side of her bed, she collected the myriad of plushies and coordinated them meticulously in their allotted corner on the floor near her bed. With that, she threw back the rumpled bedspread and rearranged her pillows before sitting in bed with her back resting against the headboard.
On her nightstand was a copy of Northanger Abby. She picked it up and found her place. She nearly wished this novel wasn't her particular venture at the moment. She could do without the proposition that she may very well be as naïve and inept as Miss Catherine Morland. Nevertheless, she read on. That is, she had attempted to.
At least an hour must have crept by and Heather had scarcely read ten pages. Her mind seemed to be everywhere but the text and she found it a futile attempt to force herself into concentration. She didn't want to acknowledge the dreadful notion of penitence that was beginning to creep into the corners of her mind, as well as her heart. Had she possibly dived too hastily into contention? Feeling drained, she hadn't the strength or the desire to entertain these ponderings. Resigned, she marked her position and placed the book back on her nightstand. She reached over, turned off the lamp beside her, and settled herself underneath the covers.
Heather found her endeavor to sleep as futile as her efforts to read. She tossed and turned as she labored to shut down her brain. She groaned with the realization that sleep would likely be eluding her for quite some time.
It occurred to her just then how parched her throat seemed. Pushing aside the covers, she climbed out of bed in order to make her way downstairs to the kitchen.
The kitchen was in disarray after the party. Trash and other rubbish lined the countertops while the sink was piled with dirty dishes. Heather was certain she would be enlisted to help tidy the mess tomorrow - or rather, later that day as Heather was sure it was well after midnight now. She squinted at the digital clock located on the microwave. Yes, it was nearly two o'clock in the morning. Heather retrieved a glass from the cupboard, surprised to find a clean one what with the mountain in the sink, and dispensed water from the tap on the front of the refrigerator.
When she had drunk her fill, she left the glass on the counter next to the sink and began making her way back upstairs. Heather noted how the sconces lining the upper hallway cast an almost eerie glow as she ventured back to her room. She imagined for a moment that they were antique candelabrums with flames flickering against damp stone walls in an ancient castle. For goodness sake, Heather thought shaking her head. She truly was as foolish as Catharine with her exaggerated imagination. Or perhaps it was merely the influence of Miss Austin's tale.
Heather arrived at her bedroom. She had closed the door behind her as she left and wasn't certain why. Reaching for the door handle, she paused before opening it. She pivoted and stood there staring at the door opposite her own. Kevin was on the other side of that door. The very thought made her heart clench then flutter. Was he sound asleep? Or was he as restless as her?
Before she had the opportunity to dispute her deeds, Heather found her hand on the doorknob leading to his temporary quarters. Warily pushing down the handle, Heather released an inaudible gasp when the latch disengaged. She cracked it open, merely a sliver. With exorbitant caution, she pushed on the door as gingerly as possible, taking care not to allow it to squeak. Once the opening was broad enough for her to pass through, she slipped inside, securing the door behind her.
The room was pitch black; shades drawn tight. Heather peered through the darkness, attempting to make out the enormous shape of the slumbering goliath. The blackness obscured everything within the room, even as her eyes slowly acclimated to the murkiness. Through the dark, she could hear the steady cadence of his breathing, deep and rumbling. He wasn't quite snoring, but close to it. The static rhythm sent her heart hammering within her ribs.
Rather than turn to exit the room, Heather took an undetermined step forward. Her mouth became dry as she padded over the floor like a ghost in the darkness. She placed her hand out in front of her as she reached forward into the nothingness. Just as her hand found the edge of the bed, so too did her toe find the bed frame. The pain surged in the young girl's foot as she sank her teeth into her bottom lip to prevent herself from crying out. Fuck! She surprised herself by cursing internally. Her body crumpled over as her forehead met the bed while she waited for the agony to subside. Once it did, she dragged herself upright, feeling her way along the bed until she reached the head.
Heather was grateful that Kevin was asleep on the opposite side of the bed and that he didn't appear to be disturbed by her presence. She found the top of the bedspread and slowly peeled it back. Her heartbeat quickened to what she was certain was an utterly abnormal pace and she could hear it pulsing inside her ears. Her lungs constricted as she tentatively clambered onto the mattress, her tiny form causing it to ever so vaguely dip. She stiffened suddenly when she noticed his gigantic form stirring as he rolled onto his other side, his back now facing her. Heather bit her lip again suppressing the startled gasp that threatened to escape her lips.
Indeed, everyone in this house had in fact, gone mad, herself included. It seemed the giant had settled after a moment and she inched closer to some degree. She then slid beneath the covers placing her head on one of the vacant pillows. There was a gap at least a foot and a half wide between them. Subtly, she edged nearer, pausing every few moments to gauge whether there would be a reaction from him.
Searching blindly within the dim light, her nimble fingers delicately brushed against bare flesh. A jolt of electricity surged from her fingertips, directly to her heart. Heather knew she had gone completely and utterly mad. So much so, that she couldn't even begin to reason with herself. Closing the gap, she burrowed her tiny body against his gargantuan form. She had never before touched him in this manner and despite the imprudence of her actions, a rush of exhilaration charged through her. She nestled into him as her trembling lips met the warmth of his skin.
Subconsciously, Kevin's body had sensed the small movement on the mattress and he stirred turning over in his sleep. He was pulled to a higher state of consciousness when he felt something brush his back. He drifted between slumber and wakefulness. It was certainly a pleasant sensation, but he began drifting off as it was evident that it was merely a dream. Then, his heart lurched in his chest as he felt soft lips press gently against his back. Fuck no. He definitely wasn't dreaming, he realized as his eyes snapped open and he was thrust into full consciousness.
Kevin bolted upright in such an abrupt fashion that it sent Heather reeling. She shot up from the bed with a tiny yelp. Reaching over to the bedside table, Kevin switched on the lamp, bathing the room in a soft yellow light. Having been in total darkness, just moments before, the light was harsh to their eyes. Nevertheless, that did not inhibit Heather from gawking back at him in an equally dumbfounded manner to which he was gaping at her now.
Haha, a trick before a treat. Unfortunately, it won't be until after Halloween, but I am 50-60% of the way done with the next chapter. I'm sorry this isn't great and I know Mark's invitation was a little odd, given all the tension, but I've had this particular plotline in place for a long time, some of the other stuff got added in the in-between. Until next time.