Over the next week, we worked hard to take down the video or report it to the host site.
Tate handled it with a straight face until she read the comments on the video on one of the sites. Some were cruel. Some were twisted. All of them were sordid.
She was ready to torch the entire internet, so I ended up just telling her to leave it, and I’d handle the rest of it myself. Actually, I passed the task to Jax. He knew his way around that shit better than I did. And he’d be faster at it.
Piper’s parents found out about the video and her involvement. They took her out of school for the rest of the year. She’d be home-schooled until she graduated.
Nate was another matter. He’d been MIA since the shit went down in the hallway last week, so I put him on the back burner for now.
But he’d show up eventually, and I wasn’t anywhere near over it.
Tate’s dad, on the other hand, was the hardest part to deal with. He supported our new relationship, but we had to “slow the hell down.”
He and I took Tate to Chicago last weekend to buy the R8 she’d been eyeing online. He wasn’t thrilled with spending that much money on a car for her, but he wanted to see her smile. Keep busy. Focus on another project.
Some people might consider his therapeutic tactics hiding, but it wasn’t. The Nova project he invented for me last year was a way for me to not think constantly. I could get space, distance, and perspective.
It was already working on Tate. I couldn’t believe how quickly she was getting over the video.
“What’s this?” Her curious eyes smiled at the box I’d just placed in her hands.
I sat on my knees on her bed, leaning back on my feet. “Open it.”
Tate had been in bed when I climbed through the tree—and the rain—to sneak in a visit.
I had dragged Jax with me to some outlet mall Madoc told me about. Not normally a shopper, but I’d bit the fucking bullet and asked for ideas.
I wanted to give Tate something special.
She slid the top off the box and picked out the charm bracelet, her eyes sparkling with surprise and a little confusion.
I watched her study the four charms hanging off the bracelet: a key, a coin, a cell phone, and a heart.
I kept my expression flat, still uneasy about anyone knowing how weak I was. How my hopes rested on this girl thinking I was worth a damn.
After a few moments, her eyes widened, and realization hit her. “My lifelines!” she blurted out, smiling, and I exhaled a relieved breath.
I didn’t know, until recently, about Tate’s survival tactics with me. They were things she always carried on her when she went to parties or other social gatherings in high school.
Emergency type objects that she used to escape me if she needed. Money, phone, and car keys.
“Yeah.” I ran a hand through my hair, droplets falling to my face. “When you told me on our way to Chicago about how you always wanted your escape plans when dealing with me in the past, I didn’t want you to see me that way anymore.”
“I don’t—” She shook her head.
“I know,” I interrupted. “But I want to make sure I never lose your trust again. I want to be one of your lifelines, Tate. I want you to need me. So...” I pointed to the bracelet. “The heart is me. One of your lifelines. I took Jax with me today to pick it out.”
I should’ve just gotten her a bracelet with a heart. That’s it. A fucking heart. That was all she needed. I was the one to keep her safe. I was the one she’d run to—if Tate ran to anybody at all—for help or comfort.
“How is your brother?” She brought me out of my thoughts.
“He’s hanging in there,” I offered. “My mom is working with a lawyer to try to get custody. He wants to meet you.”
And he did. My brother’s words, “I wanna meet the girl that’s made you so boring.”
Such a little shit.
“I’d love to,” she said softly, and my heart swelled as I watched her twirl the bracelet around her fingers, studying it with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Put it on me?” she asked, and I tried to ignore the tear that fell down her cheek. I hoped it was a happy tear, and all of a sudden, I couldn’t wait for her father to relax on the rules of how much time we were allowed to be together. I damn well needed to touch her.
And soon.
We were eighteen, but we both respected her dad. But in his head—and probably most father’s heads—eighteen was still too young for the stuff I wanted to do to her.
For the stuff I’d already done to her.
I worked the clasp, fastening it to her wrist, and then pulled her onto my lap so that she straddled me.
Oh, Christ.
She wrapped her arms around my neck, her center grinding on me, and I closed my eyes for second.
It’d been too long.
Okay, only a week, but still.
When you’ve tasted the one thing that fills you up, it’s impossible not to want more of it.
A lot more.
She leaned down, melting her soft, sweet lips to mine, and I held her hips tight. I knew I couldn’t stay, but I didn’t want to stop, either.
“Jared,” a deep male voice threatened, and we both jerked our heads to the door.
Shit. Tate’s dad.
I sighed, shaking my head.
“You need to go home now,” he ordered me through the closed door. “We’ll see you for dinner tomorrow night.”
Awesome.
My body was screaming, but what could I tell him?
Hey, I need your daughter for about three hours or until she passes out from exhaustion? Or, would you mind if I slept over, because I never sleep so well as when Tate’s lips are buried in my neck?
Yeah, I snorted, that’d go over really well. “Yes, sir,” I responded, and I could feel Tate’s body shaking with silent laughter.
I looked back to her. “I guess I need to go.”
She held my shirt, touching her nose to mine. “I know,” she said reluctantly. “Thank you for my bracelet.”
I climbed off the bed and kissed the hell out of her before we said goodbye. She damn well wasn’t making it easy, either, looking at me like she wanted to eat me.
But I did as I was told—for now—and climbed back through the tree.
Now, I was actually thrilled that Mr. Brandt had never cut this thing down.
Wait…he might now, though.
I laughed to myself as I crawled back through my window, waved to her, and shut off the lights.
The hard-on in my pants hadn’t lessened, and I was half-tempted to bring her back to my room.
Another cold shower night.
Making my way to the bathroom, I felt my phone vibrate against my thigh, and I grabbed it out of my pocket.
Looking at the screen, I had an urge to flush it down the toilet.
K.C.