“Promise to take care of your Momma when I’m gone, sweetie.” My dad made me make a lot of promises to him. The doctors kept saying there wasn’t a chance he would live through the winter, but he hung on claiming he wouldn’t go anywhere until the first flowers bloomed.
I wanted to believe him, but I knew better. Even at the age of seventeen I knew so much more than I should. Losing my father was just one thing I would have to face. You lived, and you died. The only thing that mattered was what you did in time between all of that.
“Promises are nothing when you’re gone, Daddy.” I pushed the tears that threatened to full from my eyes away. Once he was gone, the coldness would sink into my bones and leave my body with a permanent chill.
I looked up into his eyes, and I could see that tears had already started to fall. “Promises are all I have left, Mia.” His voice was weak, so very weak. It pained me to make him talk at all.
“Then I will do whatever I can to keep those promises, Daddy. I will do everything I can to help Mom.” Tears started to drip from my eyes and down onto where our hands were joined.
“Good.” His smile was sweet and his eyes were lively… but only for a moment. I could see he had taken all his energy and put it in to those two very things. Trying his hardest to give me something to hold onto. There was nothing to hold on to when you were losing the first man you ever learned to love.
“Mia.” Talon’s voice sounded in my ear as my body jerked back and forth as if I was being shaken. I batted him away, blinking awake, only to realize there were big fat, wet tears on my cheeks.
“I’m fine,” I lied, wiping the tears away with the back of my hand. It had been months since I last dreamt of my dad’s death.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. I looked up at him from the bed. He was shirtless, of course, his abs, and lick-worthy physique on display as always. That and his low riding sleep pants did nothing to hide the start of the V muscle. I forced myself to look away and noticed the grave concern that was etched into his features. I could feel his hand against my shoulder; it was gentle and warmed me where I felt I would be forever cold. I wanted to lean into his touch, but I remembered just who he was.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” My tone was bitchier than I wanted to make it, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to talk about it.
“I get it.” He took a step back, his hands raised in the air. I almost wanted to apologize. Almost.
“I just don’t want to talk about it. It’s the past, and I don’t even know why…” I trailed off. I was on the verge of tears. I needed sleep because there was no reason for me to be this emotional over something that happened years ago.
“It’s because you miss him.” It seemed more like a confession than an answer. I didn’t really know anything about Talon’s mom. He never talked about it. Anything you ever heard was something that was sent down through the grapevine. By the time it got to you, the story had been manipulated so many times, there was just no way any part of it was still true.
“Missing him and having a dream about him that causes me pain are two very different things, and didn’t I say I didn’t want to talk about it?” I pulled the blanket up to my chest, covering my nightshirt, and the fact that I had nothing else on but a pair of undies.
“You don’t have to hide from me, Mia. I’m not going take from you when I can have anyone I want. Believe me when I say there is a line a mile long.” Cocky Talon was back in full force, smirk and assholier all in one.
“I’m not hiding anything.” My cheeks grew red, giving way to my lie. How had this changed from my father to hiding from him? After the kiss we shared earlier, I wasn’t sure we should be in the same room like we were now.
“You’re hiding a lot of things. The first being the way your dad’s death made you feel, and believe it or not I know a thing or two about death.” Talon made himself right at home by plopping down into my big brown reading chair. The moonlight shined in through the bedroom window, casting a shadow around us. It was like we were in our own personal moon-lit bubble.
“What do you know about death?” I questioned. I wasn’t sure why I was allowing him to stay in here, or why we were talking about this still. Maybe it was just because I was lonely and craving some human interaction.
Talon’s long, slim fingers beat against the arm of the chair as if he was contemplating something.