The Boy Who Paints Me (7 page)

“So, I had a good time today,” he said as we walked up the steps to my aunt’s house.

“Me too,” I replied as I smiled at him.

“Good, I’m glad.” We stood staring at each other as though there was so much more to say but neither of us was brave enough to say anything. I watched his eyes as they traced every section of my face. I felt my breathing speed up and my chest tighten with excitement. I didn’t even know why I was excited but I was. I gasped as his hand made its way to my face, gently tucking a strand of my jet black hair behind my ear. My eyes fell shut as I took in the heat that his hand was producing on my cheek.

“Don’t be scared of me, Rai,” he whispered as my eyes slowly opened.

“That’s just it, I’m not,” I said breathlessly as our eyes locked. I felt the tip of his thumb begin to trace my cheek in small circular movements, causing my knees to go weak. He was touching me, and I wasn’t scared: I wasn’t numb, I didn’t feel sick, and it felt...nice. He took one step closer to me, causing me to hold my breath.

“Good,” he whispered before planting a soft kiss on my forehead. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Rai,” he said and then he was gone. He left me standing there wondering how such a simple gesture could make my heart beat go absolutely crazy. The past three years men had just taken what they wanted from me, and for the first time, I had met someone who was finally willing to give something back.

Daniel Leighton, what are you doing to me?

Chapter 4

Staring at the ceiling had become my latest hobby. Last night was added to my list of sleepless nights. I wanted so desperately to try and relax, and enjoy my time here but when I'm lying there, alone, my mind just drifts. It drifts to the past, it drifts to the pain, and it drifts to all the places that I try to run away from.

Last night it was my mom's face that haunted me. Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy. I sit here and will myself to hate her but I can't. It makes me feel sick that I know everything that she has done, and I still love her.
What kind of person does that make me?
  I love the woman that she used to be, the one she promised to be and the one that she should have been for the rest of my life. I know that she is none of the above so
why do I still love her?
 

I lay in bed all night, wondering where she was, just like the night that she disappeared. I didn't blame her for leaving; I understood. I understood that no woman should have to live with a man that hits her: a man who tells her that she's ugly, a man who tells her that she's worthless, that tells her that no other man will ever want her. I understand, wanting to escape a man that holds you down every night, taking what he wants, knowing that your daughter lies in the room next door. I understand every part of that. What I don't understand is why you would run away from a man like that, and leave your daughter behind. I will never understand that.

She always used to say ‘
it’s not as bad for you, you’re his favorite. He’ll never hurt you’
. If only she could understand how sick and twisted her words were. I wasn’t his favorite; I was nothing to him but a business deal. He admitted it many times
‘we can’t mark that pretty body of yours now, can we Princess? That’s our best money maker’.
I feel sick just thinking about it. My mom was right, he never hit me but sometimes it’s the scars that you can’t see that are the worst.

Every day I waited for her to come back after she disappeared in the middle of the night. Night after night I sat there doing more favors for Mitch, praying that she was coming back. I only ever stayed because I didn't want to leave her alone with him. I didn't leave, in case she came back. In case he hurt her because of me.

I remember sitting in my room one day - it had been two weeks since she had disappeared - and every day I was losing a little more faith in her. I was preparing to do Mitch another favor. He said
'make sure you look pretty'
. I remember grabbing a hold of the necklace that my mom bought me when I was thirteen. My hands were shaking. I felt nervous and sick. I never knew who would walk through my bedroom door but it didn't matter. The moment they entered, Rainie left, and Rain took her place. I sat on the edge of my bed trying to fix my necklace when it fell out of my hand. It slipped underneath my bed, making me even more nervous. I remember crouching down, trying to reach it when something under my bed caught my eye. It was a neatly folded piece of paper with my name printed on it. I recognised my mother's handwriting instantly. I stretched my arm until my fingertips grasped the edge of the paper. I pulled it towards me after glancing at my bedroom door nervously. I remember the excitement that rumbled in my stomach as I stared down at the yellow piece of paper. All the time that I had been angry at her for leaving, suddenly disappeared. She had left me a clue; a piece to the puzzle. I had just missed it. I remember jumping to my feet and pressing my ear against my bedroom door, listening for footsteps. When I was sure that I was alone, I quickly ran to my bed with the piece of paper still clutched in the palm of my hand. 

I was eighteen, but I felt like a little child, excited that she might be wrong, and that her mother loved her after all.

It was like everything was going in slow motion as I unfolded the corners of the paper. I remember the butterflies in my stomach and the excitement that was swirling around my body. Most of all, I remember the moment that my eyes met the five letters printed in capital letters in the middle of the yellow piece of paper.

S O R R Y

Sorry?

That was it. She wrote one simple word on that piece of paper that told me everything that I needed to know. She wasn't coming back. 

I ripped the paper into tiny pieces as my body filled with rage. I remember wanting to cry and destroy everything in my room, hoping that she could feel even a fraction of the pain that I felt. I remember needing to scream so badly that I had to shove an old t-shirt in my mouth just to stifle the sound of me screaming. Most of all, I remember not being able to cry because Mitch's favors didn't require me crying. They required a job being done. I even remember the conversation that I had that day. I stood in front of the mirror, and I asked Rain
, if she would excuse me because staying with her was too painful.
As always, she understood, after all, she was the one that dealt with the pain; that was her job, not mine...not Rainie’s job.

I spent the next two weeks planning my escape. Mitch, being the possessive alpha male that he was, had immediately stopped all contact with any family or friends that we had when he and my mom first got together. That was his downfall; that was the only reason that he couldn't find her. And the only reason that he couldn't find me...
for now
.

I was dragged out of my thoughts by a knock on the front door. I didn't panic this time. I crept into Aunt Sarah's empty room. She had the same furniture but had moved it all around. The double bed that used to sit firmly against the wall was now in the centre of the room. The dresser was now sat opposite her bed, making the room even more spacious. Then there was a tall lamp that sat in the left hand corner of the room. That was it, she kept everything else in her closet; she always has. She likes to keep things tidy and organised.

I peered cautiously out of her window, careful not to move the blinds. Relief and confusion passed over me as I watched Megan knock again.

What did she want?

Running down the stairs in my baggy sweatpants and large t-shirt probably wasn't what she expected but it would have to do.

"Hey," she beamed as soon as I opened the door. I was shocked as soon as I felt her arms wrap around me and squeeze tightly. It was awkward. I stood still with my arms firmly stuck to my sides as I tried to process what was happening. "Sorry, you're not a hugger are you," it was a rhetorical question but I shook my head anyway. "I suffer from middle child syndrome. You know, needing extra love, affection and attention. Something like that, anyway – that’s what Mama says. So, are you going to let me in?" She said all in one breathe.

I still didn't utter a word. I slowly moved to the side, allowing her to walk past me and straight into the kitchen. She was clearly another person that new Aunt Sarah’s house pretty well.

"Just got out of bed?" She chuckled as she looked down at my clothes. I nodded. "Rough night?" She asked, raising her eyebrows at me.

"Something like that," I mumbled as I sat opposite her at the breakfast bar. She was loud and a little bit fast but for some reason, I liked her. 

"So, sorry for dropping in on you like this but I had to talk to you."

"Ok."

"Don't look so scared, it's nothing bad, quite the opposite actually. Can I get a drink first?"

"Sure, sorry."

"Don't be, my dad said that I need to drink more than everyone else because I talk too much."

I can't imagine why he would think that....

"We have water, soda or juice?"

"Just water please. I started a new work out program last week, so got to keep away from the sodas," she chuckled as I handed her a glass of water.

"Thanks," she said before taking a sip. "So, I’m here to tell you that you're coming to mine tonight."

"I am?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah, every summer we have a barbeque at my house. It's just for close friends and family, and I'm inviting you to come over," she said with a big smile on her face.

"Oh," was the only reply I had.

"So, you'll come?" She asked hopefully. I wasn't really used to going to parties, and I felt my palms getting sweaty. I was about to make up an excuse as to why I couldn't come when she interrupted. "Well, Leighton seemed pretty pleased when I said that I was coming over to ask you, so you guys can ride together."

"He did?" I asked, ignoring everything else that she had said.

"Yeah, so you'll come?" She asked as she fluttered her eyelashes at me, causing me to giggle.

"Ok," I mumbled. The truth was; I wanted to see Leighton again.

"Great! So, it starts at seven. You're not going to wear that, right?" She asked as she jumped to her feet and looked down at me.

"Huh?"

"Just kidding! You'd look beautiful no matter what you put on," she said as I followed her towards the front door. I was too embarrassed to answer so I stayed silent. "So, I'll see you at seven then?" She asked hopefully.

"Yeah," I reassured her as she went to throw her arms around me again. She suddenly froze.

"Sorry, you don't do hugs. I got to keep reminding myself that. See you later, Rainie!"

"Bye, Megan," I said as I stood staring at the first real friend that I have had in three years. I felt happy and sad; sad because I knew that it wouldn't last forever.

Maybe I could just enjoy it while it lasted...maybe.

* * *

After a long, hot shower, I slipped into a pair of light denim shorts and a white tank top. I didn't want to stay in today. The house was starting to make me feel like a prisoner
again
. 

The walk to the lake was therapeutic. The air was warm and calming. I used to love coming to the lake with my mom and Aunt Sarah. We would spend hours just relaxing by the edge of the lake, laughing about everything. It reminded me of the good times. I walked to the edge of the deck, slipped my sandals off and took a seat. I let my feet dangle over the edge until my toes were immersed in the warm water; it was refreshing. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back as the problems of my life slipped away. The sound of the birds chirping in the sky and the wind blowing around me had me in a trance that I would welcome any day. 

* * *

It wasn't until I felt a jacket slip over my shoulders that I realised just how cold I had been.

"Hey," Leighton said as he took a seat next to me on the deck.