Resisting Fate (Predetermined) (3 page)

Blood boiled in my veins like volcanic acid. He had me all riled up. I tightened my fingers into a fist with one hand, only to reciprocate the gesture with the other.

Oh yeah, this boy had
no
idea what I was capable of.

Chapter Two

The ride home from work was scary intense. Mr. Martin was beyond quiet and that was almost freakier than the way he’d reacted at the store.

Trust me, big bad boy Jack was not on my most beloved list either, that was for damn sure.

Thank God for the peace and serenity of my house. I needed, more than anything, to relax before I had to deal with the other issues in my life, my spastic mother being A-number one. Now, if only I could have snuck by the drunken douche in the family room without being noticed. Then I would have been left perfectly stress free. Well…at least for a little while longer that is. As soon as my mom got home from work, I’d be taking over Jamie duties, while she tended to the pathetic needs of her tanked-up husband.

“Hey flame brain, that you?” I froze in place. Crap, even tiptoeing feet couldn’t hide me from the monster tonight.

I shivered in unease, edging my way towards the hallway, hating him even more for using his little pet name on me. Why couldn’t he ever call me by my real name? Actually, now that I thought about it, nobody seemed to be able to do that anymore. And yeah, sure, I had hair the color of, well…strawberries, but hey, I
did
have a God-given name that I occasionally liked to be called.

“I said hey, you stupid piece of shit. Now answer me!” He shouted even louder. I glanced down at the garbage bag hanging out by the living room entrance, an empty jar of whiskey peeked out from the top. I shook my head, and pushed it down with the sole of my shoe, hating that tonight was one of those liquor over beer nights.

Those kind of nights always sucked major ass…

“Damn it kid, make yourself useful, and get your ass in here,
now!
”

I blew out a breath, trying to rein in my temper, trying even harder to let his words bounce off me. I placed my book bag and jacket onto the foot of the staircase, readying myself for the craptastic night he was surely about to bring.

The sound of something hard crashed against the drywall, and I jumped, falling back against the railing. I let out a tiny yip, and pressed my palm over my mouth so I could capture the rest of my squeak. The last thing I needed was for him to discover he’d freaked me out. I wasn’t weak. He didn’t need to think I was. I pinched the bridge of my nose. It was more than apparent that my night of relaxation was no longer going to be a possibility.

I really hated that man.

I made my way around the wall that separated the kitchen from our small family room, when I caught sight of his sloppy, fat ass sprawled out on the couch. His brown filled glass was perfectly balanced in one hand; the remote and cigarette were equally as steady in the other. He had some serious skills in that drunken freak category. I hated that this had become a permanent way of life for me. I hated that this was what I dealt with on a day in, day out basis. But what I hated the most was the fact that I was growing used to it.

Too, being used to something didn’t necessarily mean I accepted it. I wanted to change it. And I wanted to change it soon. I just needed some time…

My shoulders fell as I headed for the kitchen, frustration and hatred built in my chest. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him tonight. As a matter of fact, I was
never
in the mood to deal with him. What was I supposed to do though, when he was always there antagonizing me? Berating me, torturing me with his words of hatred?

“Yeah, John, I’m in the kitchen, do you need something?” Of course he did. I didn’t even know why I bothered asking.

“I want,” he belched. “… my whiskey. Now get it!”

I rubbed my temples with my forefingers as I leaned against the counter. My stomach churned from either anxiety or fear…or both, most likely. I grabbed an apple before I poured him another glass. My gaze wandered back and forth between the apple and drink. A small, slow, and equally as cryptic grin appeared on my lips. Hmm, so the evil stepmother from Snow White might have had the right idea with the poison apple thing after all.

But was he really worth the jail time in the end?

A sense of resolve washed over me as I entered the living room. The stench of random, odd body odors assaulted me. I tried not to retch as I covered my mouth, secretly fanning my face in disgust. God, had he even showered this week? My guess was a definite no.

My klutzy feet slipped as a pair of nasty old workbooks appeared in front of me. The jerk, he’d probably put them there on purpose! I struggled to keep the glass level, but still managed to somehow jar his obese frame on the couch. He groaned, his eyes narrowed, looking evil and murderous as I attempted to right myself. Out of pure instinct and self-protection, I backed away, thankful that the spill only ended up being a couple of drops on my own arm.

“What the hell kid, I feel like shit, and you’re going to come in here and knock me around like that? I oughta slap some respect into you while I have the chance.”

I winced internally at his hard words, but externally I held strong, stayed motionless. It was an empty threat. I knew it. The freak had never once raised a hand at me before.

“Sorry John.” I stated robotically, replacing his empty glass with the new, mostly full glass in the process. I stepped back a few seconds later, thankful that our skin never made actual contact. I stilled, even though my heart raced, as he gulped the liquid down in three seconds flat. He slammed it on the end table next to him one second later and wiped his sleeve across his mouth.

Wow…who knew my life would have come to this?

“You look like shit kid. Didn’t you sleep last night?” He nodded at me with his chin. Before I even attempted to answer, he was already turning his attention back towards the television.

I bit down on my tongue. It wasn’t the time for lashing out. It’d only cause trouble that I didn’t want to deal with. I couldn’t stay completely silent either. I wasn’t a pushover, and he was an ass. Besides, he was half the reason I didn’t sleep at night. He was also the reason why I’d been working every single day for the last two months. It was obvious that someone besides my mom had to pick up the slack.

“I worked six hours straight without a break, John. So of course I look like crap.”

“That’s nothing, you little witch.” He sniffed, running his arm under his nose. God, had he been hitting the drugs again? Disgust washed over me. “I’ve worked twelve hours straight before, digging trenches in ninety degree temps. You don’t know the meaning of hard work.”

Y
eah, and neither do you, asshole.

My face stayed neutral. My temper, on the other hand, was back and hotter than ever. This piss-ant had some nerve.

“I know, John.” I gritted my teeth, holding back my anger. I had to breathe. And I had to get the hell out of there.

I grabbed my new entertainment magazine off the end table, slipping it under my arm as I circled around the back of the couch. Thankfully, he was too focused on his crime drama show, and his cigarettes, to notice my exit.

I was so done with him.

I walked by the house phone in the hall on the way to my room, checking for any messages on the old as dirt machine. It was blinking surprisingly, so I clicked the message button. Which lovely creditor was blessing us with their call today? Oh, or better yet, maybe it was the gas and electric company telling us we had our typical two days to come up with the back payment for our bill before they shut it off again.
That
 was always a fun message to hear.

“Hey Em, its Mom. I’m working late again. Jamie’s staying at Grandma’s tonight so go ahead and fix yourself something for dinner, or even order a pizza if you’d like,” I flicked the phone cord as I leaned back against the wall.

“Yeah mom, like we really have money for a pizza…”

“Anyway, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Great, a night alone with my lovely step-douche, just what I needed the night before the first day of my senior year. One good thing was that Jamie wouldn’t be here to see his dad in his drunken state.

Immediately, a noise sounded from my room, knocking me from my daydreaming state. I slipped away from the wall, with my ears on high alert. Shit, I knew that sound, it was my cell phone! I hardly ever left home without it, but this morning I’d barely been awake enough to make it out the door with matching shoes. My cell phone had seriously been the last thing on my mind. But what makes matters worse is that it was now ringing a ringtone that I hadn’t heard in literally four months.

I tripped over one of Jamie’s toys, bracing my hand against the wall as I raced to my room. I grabbed my cell, held it to my ears, and let my breathless words fly out in panic. “Zachary, is that you? Hello?”

There was no response to my pleas. Just silence. I hastily hit the call back number but my ears were struck with nothing but an ‘unavailable at this time’ message.

“What the hell?” I cursed, throwing my phone across the room. Luckily it landed on one of the many piles of dirty laundry that were stacked up along the edge of the wall.

Being a slob had
some
benefits at least.

Heaving my body across the small twin sized mattress, I let out a yelp as I landed on the sharp edge of a hanger. Jesus, what was next? The pain radiated through my stomach, and I held my hand over the spot. But
that
pain was nothing in comparison to what my heart was going through.

How could I have missed Zachary’s call? Four long months of waiting to hear from him, and that was all I got? This was un-freaking-believable.

Rolling over onto my back, I glanced up towards the motivational words I had written across my ceiling in hot pink letters. “Go for the moon. If you don't get it, you'll still be heading for a star.” I shook my head. Hell, what did that Willis Reed dude know anyway? I mean sure, I was all about getting things done. And yes, when something didn’t go my way in the past, I usually didn’t give up! I guess you could say I’ve always been a glass half full kind of girl.

I always tried to look at things gone wrong as a stepping-stone to the road I was intended to walk. Lately though, it seemed nothing was going right. Living those written words above me was a whole hell of a lot harder than saying them. I’d probably be better off giving up. Then again, I was Emmy O’Connell, brave girl extraordinaire, right?

I bolted up off my bed, determined to get over my pity party. I threw together my supplies for school before I readied myself for a long night of alone time in my room. I showered, ate my left over bag of chips from lunch, and before I knew it, I was snuggled into bed at six, reading my absolute, most favorite new book about some sexy vampire man with a deep magical secret.

Two chapters in, moodiness dripped back into my veins. I let the paperback fall against my chest with a whisper. I was only seventeen, but dammit, where was my happily ever after? Slowly, my eyes closed and the darkness eventually took me away from my unwanted reality. I just needed something to relieve the stress of the day because apparently reading wasn’t going to help this time.

The first thought that came to mind was the day that Zachary and I first met. I snarled, instantly pushing that unwanted thought away. Something else had to take the edge off, because there was no way I’d be going downstairs to face the step-douche’s wrath anytime soon.

I tucked my hands and elbows under my pillow, squeezing lids together even tighter as I turned my head to the side. I blew out a slow breath that ended in a sleepy yawn, as an image of pale blue eyes appeared behind my lids. I groaned. My eyes shot opened again.

“What the hell?”

That picture wasn’t going to relax me anytime soon.

Still though, once I started to think about devil boy Jack, I couldn’t stop. His eyes bombarded my head, his perfectly pink, twitchy lips made my tummy flutter with butterflies. And then there was that voice, the deep tone still reverberated in my ears.

Sweet God in heaven… How could anyone sound so cruel, buy still be so
sexy at the same time?