My thoughts returned to Dylan’s arms around the beautiful girl. “I wish I was like you.”
“I’m fucked up too. Everyone is,” Harlow said, playing with my long brown hair. “I’m angry and you’re scared. Neither one is good. We do our best though.”
“Dylan is the only guy I’ve ever wanted to touch me. Now it’s too late.”
“Screw that chick. She’s not you and he said he would wait. He didn’t have to say that.”
“Yeah, but he probably changed his mind,” I said, cuddling closer to her. “I wouldn’t wait for me.”
“Yeah, but you’re kinda stupid.”
Despite sharing her smile, I couldn’t shake off my depression. Harlow stared at the ceiling for a long time. We were both in our heads until she suddenly turned to me.
“When those fuckers grabbed us, I told you it would be okay and we’d escape. Remember?”
“Yes,” I whispered, recalling how the rock felt in my hands as I crushed the asshole’s skull.
“We escaped. I kept my word. Well I’m telling you this thing with Dylan will work out. Do you believe me?”
Cuddling the doll, I smiled. “Yes. You’ve never been wrong.”
Harlow smirked. “I’m tense, so I need to sleep in here.”
“Can we sleep with the TV on?” I asked, squirming lower under the blanket.
Harlow smiled and I knew she needed the TV on too. We might be fucked up in different ways, but we were alike in many others ways. Despite years of therapy and steps forward, sometimes the past dragged us back into its grip.
Chapter Two ~ Dylan
“Can’t complain” was my standard reply when people asked how my day was going. I’d been saying it since I was a kid. Maybe I really didn’t have anything to complain about all these years. Growing up, I had food and shelter. I never feared a beating. No one messed with me as a kid. If anything, I was ignored. Was that enough to complain about though?
Off and on over the years, I attended the local Ellsberg schools with kids from shittier homes than mine. Some kids at school could barely sit down because they’d taken such a beating from mom or dad the night before. Others enjoyed their only warm meals at school because their parents pissed away their food stamps on junk for themselves. Ratty clothes were the norm. A few kids came from nicer homes like the Johanssons. However, most of the better families sent their kids to the Catholic School to keep them away from the trashier elements. My dad didn’t want to waste the money.
This was probably a good decision since school never interested me. Restless as a kid, I spent every recess doing laps around the playground. I blew through homework after school, so I could ride my bike around town. I never knew why I felt trapped, but life suffocated me.
So my problems were of the rich kid variety. A cold mom and asshole dad wouldn’t leave me hungry or black and blue. They just left me wanting.
These days, I saw my father in passing. Once at the golf course when Cooper invited me to come along with him and Aaron. I’d occasionally see Dad’s newest wife at the store. Margo was an odd bird. Sometimes, she’d wave excitedly at me. Other times, she acted as if I was a stranger. Didn’t matter since she never meant anything to me. The woman spent the first year of marriage to my dad calling me David.
Margo came with two daughters. One was a raving bitch. The other was a sweet, yet tough little broad. I’d always like Lark more. She was easier to talk to because her mouth wasn’t on bitch twenty-four seven like Raven’s. Lately, they’d both become friends. I even found Raven funny, rather than obnoxious. Well, she was obnoxiously funny anyway.
So I had nothing to complain about really. When Dad cut me off for taking Lark’s side over his, I thought my new business was dead in the water. Instead, I received jobs from the Johanssons who controlled much of Ellsberg. My business expanded quickly and I’d recently hired Nick Davies to help me manage projects.
Most of my guys bullshitted nonstop, but Nick focused on his work and kept to himself. He was the polar opposite of a guy like Cooper.
The Johanssons made their money the illegal way and had the muscle of the Reapers Motorcycle Club to ensure people behaved. If Cooper walked into a room, crapped on the floor, and claimed you’d done it, you’d apologize to him. Such power made men assholes and Cooper certainly had his moods. Nick was the only guy I knew who didn’t fall for them either.
I ignored Nick’s silent unreadable ways and enjoyed his competence. If I told him to do something, it got done. He didn’t complain. Never made excuses. However when he needed to do something for his woman, I knew never to disagree. Not when Nick’s woman was a Johansson.