Page 18 of Piston

The bitch hit him because he interrupted her during her phone call, wanting help with a math question, before forcing him to sit out on the porch steps, and apparently, it wasn’t the first time.

Now, I pick him up from school, and sometimes, he’ll spend the night at my place, but other times, I have to take him home, which I hate, but Christy knows not to touch him again.

This is why I haven’t shown my father the video. The first few years, I abstained because I wanted nothing to do with them, and she ensured he’d stay out of my life, but now, it's my insurance, so she doesn’t hurt my brother because, let’s face it, Henry doesn’t care about anyone but himself. However, Cooper has admitted that Henry’s been saying he regrets treating me poorly.

Twenty-four years too late in my book.

“Am I staying at yours tonight, Sissy?” Cooper asks after a few minutes of silence, and I wince.

“Unfortunately not, bud. Henry has plans with you tonight, but tomorrow you can.” I reply, and he sighs, looking out the window, not saying anything else.

I instantly feel bad but stay quiet.

He hates staying at Henry’s, and if I could, I’d take him in full-time, but I know Henry won’t go for it, and I know that using the video won’t work. Step-monster isn’t even aware that I watch Cooper. She believes he’s with a relative to give her a break from failing at being a mother, or so Cooper has explained.

It doesn’t take long before I’m pulling up outside my old home, and Cooper sighs. I turn in my seat and give him a small smile. "Tell Henry I’ll pick you up again tomorrow, and you’ll be staying at my place, alright?”

He nods and unbuckles before leaning forward, kissing my head. “Love you, Sissy.”

I smile and reply, “I love you too, bud,” as he opens the door and climbs out.

I notice my father standing at the edge of the grass, his eyes firmly on me, but I ignore him, put my car into drive, and pull away.

He hasn’t stopped trying to get me to talk to him, and I know he hopes Copper will sway me, but it won’t work.

He treated me like an unwanted child who ruined his life, and allowed his wife to do as she pleased with me.

I was abused for years, and he did nothing.

As far as I’m concerned, my only family is Cooper.

Twenty minutes later, I pull up outside my small, modest, yet comfortable two-bedroom house on the same street as my new workplace. I smile at the light blue building, flowers growing nicely beneath the windows.

Grabbing my bag, I climb out and walk down the path before unlocking the front door. Bluebell instantly starts to move in between my legs, nearly tripping me over, and I grin, picking the cat up before she can get out, and shutting the door. I take in the cream-colored walls, the kitchen and living area combo are separated by a breakfast bar.

I sigh in contentment.

Being able to rent this was a dream come true. After I finished college, I started working more hours at the diner and at the day care, making it possible.

Yes, Piston bought an apartment. Yes, he gave me his card, but I don’t want anything from him, and now, I don’t even think I want his heart anymore.

At the beginning, I did, hopeful we could make things work, that I could put my fears behind me, asheforced this marriage on me, and not by his choice. If anything, though, he’s pulled further away from me.

He sees me as an enemy.

Gone is the carefree man who would joke and laugh with me, and in his place is a bitter man who makes me feel dirty after we have sex, rarely giving me pleasure, only thinking of himself.

Why would I want to be with someone who treats me that way?

A man who would dismiss you as soon as he’s pulled out and come in the condom, not trusting you not to “trap him” again?

The answer is you don’t. I deserve more than what he’s given me.

I deserve respect, if anything.

I know my worth now. I’ve come to learn that I deserve better, and that I deserve to be loved, even if it just means by being by myself with a house full of animals, and my brother.

I deserve to put myself first for once; Piston doesn’t do that.

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