Nic's Devotion: An Endless Series: Book One (19 page)

BOOK: Nic's Devotion: An Endless Series: Book One
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     My mother had just kicked me out. Where was I going to
go? She said she wanted me out today. I didn’t know anyone well enough to ask
if I could stay with them. Nic crossed my mind but I rejected that straight
away. There was no way I’d bring my issues to his door. Earlier I’d just told
myself to put space between us precisely because of my problems.

     Clutching my head I took a shuddery breath and tried to
organize my thoughts. Breathe, clench, breathe, unclench. I did this for a
while until my sobs calmed enough to think. The tears still flowed but I could
at least think.

     My scholarship!

     I could take advantage of the free housing it offered,
but it would take a few days, and I’d have to wait until Monday to apply.

     The ringing of the phone interrupted my thoughts. I
stilled and listened. It had to be Nic; no one else would be calling at this
time. He probably woke up and was worried that I’d just disappeared. After a
couple rings I heard my mother answer.

     “Hello.” Her voice sounded like a bark.

     A second later. “She’s not available to speak at the
moment.”

     Three seconds later. “Yes, she’s home. She came
crawling in just a little while ago, and as I stated she’s not available to
talk. You’re going to have to wait to talk to the little tramp.”

     I winced at her description of me, and that Nic had to
hear it. The slamming of the phone was the next sound I heard. Having to push
him away wouldn’t be a problem now, he’d run after hearing that. Additional
pain ripped me up inside, and I started crying again. Sleep pulled at me and I
tried to hold it back because I need to go, but sleep sounded so good. I felt
like I could sleep forever; no decisions to make, nothing to worry about, and
there was no one to miss me anyway.

     Darkness and sweet oblivion pulled me under.

     The next instant my eyes blinked open blearily and I
frowned taking in my surroundings. My whole body felt beat down and my face
really hurt. Why did my face hurt? I brought my hand up to my cheek.
Ouch
!
Instantly, the morning incident with my mother slammed into me.

     Uncurling myself from my cramped fetal position I
looked at the time; 8:17 a.m. I had dozed off, but it hadn’t been for long.
Pushing up from the bed I looked around groggily. There was a small mirror over
my dresser I walked over to take a look at the damage. The cheek where my
mother had slapped me was red and welted, and the other side of my face where
I’d hit the door frame had a small cut with some blood, was swollen, and
starting to bruise.

     For some reason the sight didn’t faze me, it was my
eyes that caught my attention. They looked kind of vacant. Like I’d cried out
everything inside of me and woken up empty. I felt empty. It hurt on the
outside, but my insides were deadened.

     I could work with that. I needed to get some stuff done
and feelings would just get in the way.

     Walking over to my closet I reached up and grabbed my
old suitcase out. I’d brought it to this house after I’d concluded my time at
the clinic. Mona had obtained it for me to pack my stuff in since my mother
hadn’t brought one when she
didn’t
come to get me. The thought of asking
Mona if I could live with her for a while skipped through my mind, but she
lived over in the next city and that would be too difficult to get to school
and work regularly. No matter what I wasn’t going to miss out on school. School
meant a chance for something new, a chance to get away.

     I was able to pack all my clothes and some toiletry
items in the suitcase, and also added a thin blanket to take with me. All my
books and notepads for school barely fit in my backpack making it difficult to
zip close. It would also make it heavy to carry. Taking out two books I laid
them on the top of my cloths in the suitcase instead. The suitcase at least had
wheels.

     I had washed my face, carefully, and braided my hair to
the side so it somewhat covered the cut and bruise on the right side of my
face. I’d found my beanie cap on the floor in the hall when I’d snuck to the
bathroom and I tugged that on over my head. It helped in keeping my hair over
the cut. I couldn’t do anything about the red welt on the left side of my face,
I had no make-up. Hopefully most people would scan it quickly and think the
redness was from the weather.

     Everything packed and ready I stepped up to my bedroom
door and gripped the knob to step out…and froze. The numbness was beginning to
pass. My stomach twisted in painful knots and I was scared; scared to leave
this room and face my mom again, scared to be leaving this apartment for good,
scared about where I was going to go. However, I couldn’t stand here for the
rest of my life, even if hiding in this room
indefinitely
sounded
exceedingly marvelous at the moment.

     Twisting the knob I stepped out carrying my backpack
and rolling my suitcase behind me. My mom stepped into the kitchen from the
living room the same time I did. We just stared at each other for a minute. Her
gray eyes narrowed when she observed my bruises, but there was no sign of
sympathy or regret. My heart gave a small twinge, and then thankfully, the
numbness that had engulfed me from before returned.

     “I’ve done my duty by you, and now we’ve reached the
end of our association.”
Is that what she viewed our relationship as…an
association?
“You should have moved out when you started college. I don’t
know why you didn’t?” My mother’s voice was unemotional as she addressed me.

     “I thought you might need my help with bills and things
around the house.” My voice was just as dead.

     Her eyes flashed. “I did fine the year you were gone,
and I’ll be fine again.”

     The implication of her words weren’t difficult to
decipher: she’d been glad that I wasn’t there for that year and she’d be glad
when I left. And even though she didn’t seem to care about me, my feelings for
her were still convoluted.  

     I swallowed. “You know you need to find a job. The
insurance money won’t last forever.”

     Her mouth thinned. “Like I said, out time together is
over.” She turned and walked away.

     Placing my key on the counter I walked out the front
door and headed for the bus stop having no idea where I was going to stay for
the next several days.

 

Chapter Sixteen

Nic

 

     When I woke up at 6:24 a.m. in bed
alone
I may
have freaked out a little. Shooting out of bed I rushed to the bathroom, but it
was empty. A quick glance told me that her pack was gone from where it had been
last night, and a survey of downstairs unearthed only a mess and five rookie l acrosse
players who’d be cleaning up said mess.

     I couldn’t believe she’d slipped out without me knowing,
and not even told me.

     I pounded back up the stairs not caring if I woke
anyone up. Closing my door I picked up my phone. I was pissed…pissed that she’d
walked out of the house, in the middle of the night most likely, and took the
bus home. Pissed, and sick with worry. God, I really hope she’d just left and
hadn’t been walking around in the middle of the night.

     It was early to be calling her house but I couldn’t
wait. If she wasn’t home I was heading out to track her bus and stake out her
house. Punching in her home number I waited.

     After three rings a voice barked, “Hello.”

     “Can I speak with Carrie?”

     “She’s not available to speak at the moment.” The voice
said angrily.

     I frowned. That didn’t tell me if she was home, and
Carrie’s mom seemed inordinately angry. Had Carrie not made it home and her mom
was just anxious?

     “Is Carrie home?” I asked worriedly.   

     “Yes, she’s home. She came crawling in just a little
while ago, and as I stated she’s not available to talk. You’re going to have to
wait to talk to the little tramp.”

     The phone went dead and I stared at it in shock.

     Carrie’s mom had just called her daughter a tramp.
Carrie’s words from last night rang through my head;
‘My mom hates me’.
I’d
thought maybe it was just insecurity talking, but her mother’s words revealed
definite animosity. A call back would probably only aggravate her mother
further so I refrained, even though it was going to test my last nerve to have
to wait. The idea that Carrie had to deal with a mother like that was hard to
stomach, but at least I knew she was home and safe. I would just wait till
later this afternoon and try again.

     I needed something to work off my frustration so I
headed downstairs to have a little talk with Curt and his buddies. They were
part of the freshman rookies who’d stayed the night to clean up after the
party.

     Five excruciating hours later I made another call.

     “Hello,” the same voice barked again.”

     “Is Carrie available to talk?”

     There was a pause before her mother spoke. “Is this the
same person who called earlier?”

     “Yes.” I replied, barely holding in my frustration.

     “Well, Carrie isn’t available to talk and I don’t want
you calling here again.” I thought she was about to hang up on me again, but
she spoke again. “And if by chance you know where she lives don’t come by
either, she won’t be available for you here either.” She did hang up this time.

     Once more, I stared at the phone in shock. Carrie’s mom
was a real Class A bitch. She was acting like Carrie wasn’t an adult who could
make her own decisions. Carrie worked her ass off to help her mother. She’d
gotten a scholarship and went to college for fuck sake. What in the hell was
with her mom?

     I really wanted to go over to her apartment and find
out if she was okay. The only thing stopping me was that it might make Carrie’s
life more unbearable with her mother. I didn’t want to, and it was going to
test my patience, but I was going to have to wait until Monday.

     SHIT!

 

∞              
∞               ∞

 

     Monday took fucking forever to arrive and when it did
the day dragged. Classes moved at a snail's pace and when I was at practice all
I wanted was to get out of there, which wasn’t like me. Normally, lacrosse was
my favorite part of the day. Instead, I almost got into a fight on the field
with Curt because the shithole didn’t know when to keep his damn mouth shut. Then
coach pulled me off the field saying that I was checking a little too
aggressively.

     It wasn’t as if I was swinging my shaft and taking off
the heads of anybody who dared to get in my way…like I wanted to do.

     When practice was over I marched off the field into the
locker room throwing my stuff at my locker.

     Landon came up behind me. “Dude, you are livin’ a short
fuse today.”

     I grunted, stripping out of my gear as quickly as
possible.

     “You’re starting to sound like Pit.” Evan snorted,
walking past toward his locker.

     “Don’t call me ‘Pit’.” Seth growled from behind Evan.

     Evan jerked in surprise. “Damn Pit, for such a big guy
you’re freakishly light on your feet.”

     Seth ignored him turning to his locker. “You’ve been on
edge since Carrie skipped out on you. Do you need to talk?” He mumbled into his
locker.  

     Fuck, I knew I was on edge. A day and a half of not
hearing anything from Carrie was shredding my last nerve. “I just need to get
over and talk to her. Her mom basically told me to ‘fuck off’ not even knowing
who I was, and I don’t even want to repeat what she said about Carrie. She
sounds like a complete head case.” It got me hot under the collar just thinking
about what Carrie’s mom had said about her. What kind of mother calls her
daughter a slut?

     “Well, get it done so you can get over your snit.” Evan
stated as he began stripping down.

     “Thanks for your concern; I feel it deeply.” I replied
sardonically, heading for the shower.

     “I’m all about that deep feeling shit.” He called after
me.

     I rushed through my shower getting dressed quickly, and
after a hurried ‘see you later’ I was out the door. It was six-thirty p.m. when
I finally walked through the doors of the Sports store. Looking around I didn’t
catch any glimpse of Carrie on the floor, and hey, great, Mark was managing
tonight. 

     “Mark,” I acknowledged with restrained tolerance. “Is
Carrie here?”

     A smug smile spread over the prick’s face. “Carrie just
ran in the back when she saw you coming and now she’s doing some stocking for
the rest of the night. Seems she doesn’t want to see you.”

     My temper escalated with every word out of the shit
heads mouth. Unfortunately, the guy was Carrie’s superior and had complete
control over what she did at work. It’s not like I could complain and demand
that she be made available to me. I was just going to have to wait for her to
get off work.

     I strode away without another word. If I stayed I would
have had hauled him over the counter to beat the living day lights out of him.
The guy was an ass-hat and a half.

     As I waited in my truck I tried dismissing Mark’s words
about her running into the back room to get away from me, but they troubled me.
Had she really done that or had Mark just been yanking my chain? I wouldn’t put
it past him, but the fact that she’d never called amped my disquiet. I would
have thought she would have called to tell me she was home safe or just to, I
don’t know, talk to me. Some small form of communication from her would have
been fucking nice.

    Just before the party I thought we’d come to some sort
of agreement on stepping up our relationship, but then I don’t hear from her
for two days. Was she still upset about what happened at the party, or was her
mom somehow keeping her from getting a hold of me? That might work at her
apartment, but she could make some effort here at the college.

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