Page 43 of The Wallflower

Mom chuckles, clutching her oversized black cardigan around her waist and opening the screen door. "I knew I smelled something delicious. Come in, girls."

As I pass her, she gives me a quick peck on the cheek. "What has earned me an early morning visit from two of my favorite people?"

We lay the food out on the coffee table. Mom takes up her blanket nest on the couch again with a cough. Jack and I sit cross-legged on the floor, leaning over the table with our own meals. "Jack dragged me out to see you and even made me stop in the drive-through of our favorite place.”

My mother laughs. “Sounds like she really had to force you.”

We all chuckle and eat in silence for a moment. A soap opera plays on the TV on low volume. Someone's brother has gotten someone's mistress pregnant from the sight of it. It's mindless, which is why she loves it, I think.

She smooths my flyaway hairs off my face back into my messy bun. "Are you okay, sweetheart? You look stressed?"

I nod around a bite of burger. "Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just been super busy with clients."

It feels good to be doing something normal for once. To be spending time with her without fighting about her illness,medications, or money. I watch as she picks at her food, but she eventually takes a few healthy bites of the burger, so I don't complain, not wanting to ruin the moment. Despite everything, despite Drew being a complete asshole, he has no idea what a gift he's given me. That money will pay for some of my mom's treatment, but more so, it's given us a normal, pain-free moment to spend together.

Not discrediting that he was a complete asshole, I decide to hate him a little less. Yes, he was rough with me, but he gave me pleasure. It seems like it's always a give and take with him, and I’ve had so much more take than give in my life.

It’s always been this way, so I'm not sure how to handle when things are more equal.

Not exactly fair since he insists I belong to him, but I can't do anything about that. Not when secretly, in the deepest, darkest parts of my being, I crave him. The deep, dark, depraved part of him speaks to that same darkness hidden inside me. I don't know how to wrap my head around it or make it make sense, but like everything else in my life, I'll learn with more practice.

We turn up the terrible soap opera and sit back to watch. My mom runs her chilly fingers through my messy bun, and I lean in, enjoying her touch. It’s been so long since we shared a moment like this together. If we stayed like this forever, I'd be happy.

Like a death knell, my phone pings the moment I let my stress drift away for the first time in weeks. I don’t even want to look at it, knowing that it can only be a few people, one of whom I dread hearing from. I grab my phone from the table and stare down at the screen.

It’s a text from Drew, and despite my desire to delete it without looking at it, I open the message.

Unknown: So proud of you for finally depositing that check, wallflower. Wasn’t that hard, was it?

An icy chill blankets my skin. First because how the hell did he get my number, and second because I knew I shouldn’t have cashed the check. There’s no going back now, but that doesn’t matter. All Drew sees is ownership. Cashing that check was the equivalent to signing over the ownership of my body to him. He knows how much I need the money, and because of that, he’s put me between a rock and a hard spot. I close out the message, choosing not to respond.

Responding wouldn’t change a thing. Nothing I say matters to him. I glance over at Jackie and find she's laughing at the dumb show, right along with Mom. All I can do is smile because I can't bring myself to ruin this moment. Nor will I allow him to. Drew might think he owns me, but I’ll show him real quick that I’m not the girl he wants.

CHAPTER 15

DREW

It's only beena couple of days since I've seen her, and I'm already yearning to touch her again. I keep a close eye on her activities to make sure she's not getting herself into trouble. I've been staying away so I don't draw attention to her. It’s been a pain, but at least I won’t have to endure this much longer with the event taking place tonight.

Tonight, I have to put on a tux and smile. Shake hands. Be the perfect son my father expects in public. It makes me sick to perform like a circus monkey, but right now, I don't have a choice. During the day, I attend classes, go to practice, play ball, rinse, and repeat.

In the evening, I head over to the family estate. Huge oaks tower over the sprawling property, and it has a fountain with an angel spitting water out of its mouth. My mother wanted that water fountain so bad, and now every time I come here, it’s a reminder of her. Land on lands to show our wealth in a place of towering skyscrapers and high-rises.

Inside the house, I brush past the staff, heading to my room to find my clothes. They are already pressed and laid out neatly in a line on my bed. I take a quick shower, washing away theday's remains from my body. Like most days lately, my thoughts drift to Maybel. The puzzle I cannot seem to solve.

I’d feel guilty over my behavior from the other day, but it was merely a warning as to what’s to come if she doesn’t learn to stay in line. She might be different, and that appeal holds my attention most, but the fire inside her threatens to break my resolve.

It isn’t long before I’m showered, dried, and dressed. I don't want to attend these events, but I have no choice, and I still have one more stop to make before the party.

Once I'm dressed with every hair in place, I pull out my phone and snap a photo. I send the picture to my little wallflower and close my phone. Someone should appreciate this tux because I certainly don't.

Dots appear after she reads the text, but then nothing. I don't know why she keeps fighting so hard against what we have. She wants me. I know it. She knows it. Soon, I won't allow her the luxury of doubting us.

When I can't stall any longer, I make the trek across the estate to my mother's suite. All backed up to the edge of the gardens, but not close enough that people might look in and see her.

I enter to find a nurse on a chair near the window, my mother in the bed, eyes glassy, as she watches the door.

Her eyes go wide, and excitement fills her tired features as she tries to sit up. I rush over and gently help her lie back again. "No, Mom, stay put. You can admire me from there. I don’t want you hurting yourself trying to sit up."

---