Fall Back Skyward (Fall Back #1)(35)

The likes of me? What does that even mean?

Before I can contemplate those words, he disappears back inside the house and slams the door in my face.

Seriously, what the hell?

Spinning around, I clench my hands into fists as I shuffle away from the porch, confused and angry about his assumptions about me.





AFTER FILLING MY BOWL WITH vanilla ice cream, I grab the pieces of peeled orange from the kitchen counter and stir them in. I was kind of bummed when I checked the skies and saw the dark clouds. I hope ice cream will help chase away the star-gazing blues.

Satisfied with the amount and consistency, I leave the kitchen, bypassing the living room where my dad is watching a crime TV show, and climb the stairs to my room. I went to check in on Mom in her room a few minutes ago. She and my dad don’t share the same room. I can’t even remember the last time they did.

I change directions and enter my sister’s room. She is sitting on a stool next to the window, her eyes closed in concentration and the bow in her hand moving effortlessly across the strings of the cello. Everything in here is color coded and neat. A medal, shaped like a G-clef, stands on the shelf above her desk, flanked by several books on music. She has a thing for orderliness.

The music stops and she huffs in frustration. She places the bow on the desk, grabs a pen and scribbles furiously on a notepad. She tucks her hair behind her ear and picks up the bow once again.

“E?” I call out. Her head snaps up. “Why don’t you get some sleep? You can practice tomorrow. It’s pretty late right now.”

She shakes her head. “I want to be ready for when schools open. The teacher back in Ohio said we should always be competitive and learn every chance we get.”

I shift on my feet, worried that my father will stomp upstairs and yell at her. It wouldn’t be the first time. “I have an idea. We could watch a movie on my laptop and eat ice cream. You can choose the DVD.”

She shakes her head and starts packing her stuff in the cello case.

“Did you know Elise has a cat in her room?” she announces without looking at me.

“What? Where did she find a cat?” I ask, hurrying out of the door in search of confirmation. Elise has a penchant for rescuing animals, something that irritates my dad to no end.

Before Elon can answer, my father’s raised voice reaches me. He sounds even angrier than usual. Changing directions, I hurry downstairs coming to an abrupt halt at the bottom and gape in shock when I see Cole standing at the door.

My dad moves forward in a threatening stance, but Cole doesn’t back away. I applaud him for his bravery and fear for him for his stupidity. He should run away.

“Stay away from my daughter. She doesn’t need the likes of you ruining her life.” These words are spoken in a shout, but Cole doesn’t cringe. I’m partly happy he can’t hear him. The chill in his voice is enough to make even the strongest of men scuttle away in fear.

Dad steps back and slams the door in his face. He spins around and stops me mid-turn with his words.

“Eleanor,” he snarls. I straighten and spin around to face him and my heart drops to my stomach at the look of anger and disapproval he is directing my way. I hold the bowl in my hand tighter. “Do you need to tell me something?”

I quickly shake my head.

Two steps and he’s glaring at me from the bottom of the stairs. “Stay away from that boy. Do you hear me?”

I grip the bowl tighter and do something stupid. One single word falls out of my lips in a quivering whisper. “Why?”

His face darkens, rage rolling across it like thunder in a cloudy sky. “Don’t question me, Eleanor. I’m your father. You will do as I say, do you understand me?”

I nod quickly, eager to get away from him. Seventeen years on this earth, and he still scares the living crap out of me.

With one last warning glare, he turns and storms back into the living room. I exhale and dash back upstairs and into my room. I shut the door behind me and lean on it, taking deep breaths.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

Lifting the spoon from the bowl, I scoop a large helping of ice cream and shove it in my mouth, the urge to feel something other than fear and loss of control immense. I shut my eyes tight as the coldness from the ice cream sweeps through me, numbing those desires, those demons that remind me how good the sharp whisper of a razor on my skin feels. The demons that send images of the sight of blood dripping from my skin, greedy for the rush.

My eyelids flip open at the sound of a knock on my window. Cole is kneeling on the roof, his eyes intense on my slumped form by the door.

I stand up and push away from the door, then hurry to the window. God, did he see me in my state of weakness?

“What are you doing here?” I ask, making sure he can see my lips.

He continues to study me closely. What is he thinking behind those gray eyes? We haven’t talked again since the day he brought me home from St. Christopher’s, yet, he is here, staring at me. Something flashes across his face. He blinks, breaking the connection.

“Would you like to go for a walk? I figured since the chances of gazing at the stars are null, we could do something else,” he finally says, and a shiver dances down my spine at the sound of his voice.

I glance nervously over my shoulder to the door, and then back to Cole. “My dad. . .aren’t you afraid of him? I heard what he said to you.”