More Than Lies (More Than #1)(82)

“Put me down.”

He doesn’t comply.

“Shawn, put me down.”

Nothing!

When I’m jolted up and down a few times, that confirms my thoughts of him taking me into Mr. and Mrs. Braden’s house. The door swings open and he enters with me.

“Grab that for me and close it, would ya, Tara?” He sounds smug.

“Put me down!” I yell.

“That’s not gonna happen, darlin’.” I watch as he raises his leg to kick the door closed with his boot.

“Shawn Douglas, what do you think you’re doing?” Pam’s voice rings out. Thank God. She will make him put me on the ground, hopefully soon, too because I’m getting dizzy. “Put her down.”

“Stay out of this, please, Mom.” Shawn starts to ascend the stairs. I’m once again jolted which only makes the vertigo worse. I have to close my eyes.

“Shawn!” I call out. He has to stop soon.

“Zip it, Tara.” He hits the landing then turns. I’m pretty sure in the direction of his bedroom. Although mine is across the hall from his so he could be heading to either one. I keep my eyes closed. A door opens and then I propel backwards where I land on a plush surface.

Opening my eyes, I see it’s a bed. His bed.

I make a move to rise up, but get nowhere when he straddles my torso. Oh, hell!

“Why did you run from me last night?”

“You know why.” I don’t want to do this. Why can’t he leave it alone? After everything I’ve been through the last few days, I want to feel nothing. I want to block everything and everyone out—especially him. He makes me feel too damn much. Want too much.

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking you.” I stare up before turning my face to look away. I can’t look at him and say this. I don’t want to see the truth in his eyes.

“God, Shawn, don’t—please don’t—I know you didn’t want me. You don’t want me. Hell, you’ve told me over and over again. You would think I’d learn by now.” He grabs my jaw, gently turning my face to look at him. The one thing I don’t want to do. He lowers getting inches away from my face.

“I’m pretty sure my hard dick said otherwise. Fuck, Tara.” Now he sounds pissed.

“Just because your body reacts to mine doesn’t mean you want me, wanted me. I saw you. You were standing in front of me. You were doing everything possible not to—” I’m cut off.

“Get off her, Shawn. What is the matter with you?” I can’t see Pam because Shawn’s body is blocking his mother’s.

“Mom, please stay out of this.” He blows frustrated air into my face. I hate how it reminds me of what he tastes like when his tongue is in my mouth.

“Bill!” Pam yells out. Great! Shawn’s in for it now. This will not end well for him if Mr. Bill walks in and he’s on top of me.

“Shawn, get off, please.” My voice is begging him.

“Leave, Mom.”

“This is my house, son, now get off Taralynn!” she commands.

“Sweetheart, what’s . . .” Bill begins. There’s a pause; too long of a pause. “What the? Shawn!” I hear feet stomping toward the bed, and Shawn’s body is ripped off mine. Mr. Bill shoves him backwards toward the window. I know Shawn, and I know that he would never lay a hand on his dad, but I don’t want to chance anything happening.

I jump off the bed, and before I process what I’m doing, I find myself standing between Shawn and his dad. My back is to Shawn.

“Mr. Bill, please, it wasn’t as bad as it looked.” It probably was, but no need to confirm that for his parents. It’s not like Shawn intended to hurt me. He would never. Shawn is many things—man-whore, asswipe, jerk—abuser is not one of them.

“Taralynn, I need to speak to my son.” He looks down at me. “Alone.” His tone leaves no room for argument, but that doesn’t seem to stop me.

“What are you going to do to him?” I ask, as Shawn places his hands on my hips and pulls me back toward his chest. Shawn’s parents have always been reasonable. They talk things out. Bill doesn’t look like he wants to talk anything out. This concerns me. Apparently, his Dad reads that from me because his brows turn inward.

“Have you ever seen me lay a hand on him, or Shane, or you?” He breathes hard. “I just want to talk to him. That’s all.”

“Tara.” Shawn calls my name. I twist, looking over my shoulder and lifting my eyes to meet his. “Head home with Matt. Take Mason, too. I won’t be long behind.”

Nodding, I do as he says, walking away from him and out the door.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO





SHAWN





I didn’t come home right after I left my parents’ house like I told Tara I would. That was thirteen hours ago. My head was so messed up . . . it still is. I drove. I thought if I could step foot out of this state . . . if I could just get a few hundred miles of distance, clarity would come. It didn’t.

I slam the gearshift into park. I’m home. Tara’s somewhere inside the two-story house I’m staring at through the windshield of my truck.

Dude, you’ve never been a pussy, so why are you being one now?