When Our Worlds Collide (Our Worlds #1)(47)

Most people would argue that I should give him what he deserves but when I look down at my mother leaning against the door I know why that was never an option for me. I’m strong, much stronger physically than she could ever hope to be. Taking a hit is worth saving my mother from that type of pain that he is inflicting on me now.

After a handful more of kicks my father ripped me away from my mother’s side. Once I was out of the way he grabbed her by the arm. Her face contorts into a grimace from his strong hold. She’ll need to wear long sleeves for a week from the pressure. She follows him up the stairs and into their bedroom without a single word to her son. I try straightening my back as best as I could. The pain only got worse, but I forced myself up from the ground. Standing in the hallway I listened to my Mom trying to calm my father down. He’d pass out into his usual drunken slumber soon. He couldn’t cause any more harm tonight. I’d never leave her if I knew he would be awake to wreak havoc on her.

The pain from his assault reminded me why I needed to see her. She knows me. She sees me.

I sent her a text as I pull out of the driveway.

I need u, Ken. Unlock ur window. C U in 15.

I drove to her house on auto pilot. All I could see was the look on my father’s face as he threw my mom on the floor as if she was a simple piece of trash that needed discarding. That’s why I’ve stayed away from relationships all this time. I never want to be the type of man that my father is. That’s the type of man that doesn’t deserve the devotion of someone like my mother.

I park down the road from her house walking up to her bedroom window like a true stalker to attempt to right all of my wrongs. There are a lot of them. I stand in front of her window seeing only a small amount of light coming from her bedside lamp. I tap lightly on her window seeing her shadow as she sits up in bed. Slowly, she turns towards the window. Kennedy wobbles over to open it for me. All I can see is her silhouette.

“Hey,” I whisper through the opening of the window. There’s a look on her face. She’s confused as to why I’m standing outside her bedroom window this late at night. There’s a hollow look in her eyes that scares me most of all. Maybe it’s too late. I’m too late.

“Hi,” Kennedy whispers under her breath. She walks away leaving the window open. I take it as an invitation to follow her into her room. She gets back on her bed as I’m closing the window. “What do you want Graham?” She demands with a harshness covering herself up with her blanket. The scowl on her face makes me want to crawl back out the window the way I came in.

“I just need to talk to you. I just needed to see you.” I confess in a whisper standing as far away from her as possible.

“Why are you whispering?” The smirk on her face reaches her eyes. She tries hard not to laugh, even having to go as far as putting her hand over her perfect mouth.

“You’re parents…aren’t here are they?” I shake my head in embarrassment.

“No. They won’t be back until Sunday now,” she explains. I sit on the bed next to her pulling my hands through my hair and as I do I let out a low agonizing moan. “What’s wrong?” Kennedy’s voice is full of worry as she jerks her body around to look at me.

Instinctively, I grab my ribs to try to suppress some of the pain that radiates through my body. Kennedy leans closer. I can smell the subtlety of her perfume. She grabs at the bottom of my t-shirt ripping it up exposing my bruised ribs running her hand over the spot where he had punched. My breath caught. “I’m fine…really.” Just her touching me causes my breath to slow and my heart to race. Her skin feels hot against mine. I don’t think I’d ever get used to that feeling.

“Graham Black, you are not okay. Have you even gotten a chance to look at this? What happened to you?”

I need to be honest with her. She deserves my honesty. “After baseball practice I went to Craig’s to play poker until pretty late. When I got home he was beyond the point of being drunk. He started yelling at me about baseball, and I kind of got mouthy with him. I guess my mom overheard the confrontation and tried to come to my rescue, but he pushed her down. He didn’t hit me until I went to help her up,” I explain everything without thinking twice about it. The look on Kennedy’s face says it all. She pity’s me, for what my father has done to me. I don’t want pity from her. I don’t know what I want from her, but whatever she is willing to give I know now that I’d take it without question. I’d gladly take something that I knew I never could deserve.

“Okay,” she smiles pulling back the covers on her bed. I know what she means by the small gesture. I’m beginning to think that Kennedy doesn’t care about all my faults. When she looks at me she sees someone different than everyone else as if none of the bullshit matters.

“I haven’t had a chance to shower and I doubt you want me lying down on your adorable pink sheets,” I tease her trying to lighten the mood. Uncomfortable laughter fills the room. This will be the second time I sleep in her bed. Also the second time, I sleep in a girls bed without a preconceived idea that I’m going to get laid.

“You can take a shower. I put your toothbrush in the drawer and there are towels in the closet in there,” Kennedy explains leaning back against her pillow. I hate to admit it, much like everything pertaining to Kennedy, but I find some sort of sick joy in having something to call mine in her personal space as if I belong near her.