Highly doubtful. By the way she’s already in the booze, my guess is she’ll puke before she laughs.
She places the bottle in my hand. “Loosen up, Linc.”
She walks off, scanning the crowd as I keep my eyes on her but staying put. She starts talking to some asshole in a purple hoodie, and I take a swig of the vodka.
Fuck. I don’t want to fucking watch this shit.
“I really like your tattoo.” I cringe when I hear the squeaky voice next to me and look to my left at the little blonde in a pink dress.
I’m assuming she means the forest scene on my forearm since the others are covered by my shirt. “Thanks.”
“You have any more?”
Damn, she moves quick. This is the part where we’d normally go find a more private place so I can show them all to her, but my eyes are on Penelope as a second douchebag joins Douche Number One and her.
“Guess she’s up for a double team tonight.”
“What?” The girl looks up at me, her pale lips parted as she examines me with curiosity.
“I gotta go.”
I leave the girl without remorse and walk to P, taking hold of her elbow. “Let’s go.”
She jerks out of my grasp instantly. “We just got here.”
“Who’s this? Your brother?” I hear one of the frat boys say, but I don’t bother acknowledging him.
“We need to go, Penelope.”
“We can take her home, man. No problem.” One of them grins, and I see him nudge his little friend with his elbow, both ogling P.
“She’s going home with me.”
“Not yet, I’m not.” She sounds like a fucking child as she moves to stand between the two guys, hooking her arms in theirs. “I’m going to have some fun first.”
“The hell you are, Penelope.” I stand in front of douchebag number one, puffing my chest out and looking him in the eye with warning. “She’s coming with me.”
He looks nervous, shifting from one foot to the other. “She doesn’t seem to want to go with you.”
“She doesn’t have a choice.” I look at Penelope. “We’re leaving.”
“You’re not my fucking boss, Linc. I told you a long time ago I don’t need you to protect me.” She unhooks her arms from the assholes and places her hands on her hips. “I’m a big girl.”
I’m so fucking annoyed, but I can’t leave her with these assholes no matter how bratty she’s acting. I move quickly, lifting her small body up and placing her over my shoulder, carrying her out to my car, kicking and screaming like a toddler.
If only it were true, and she didn’t need me to look after her.
There was a time when I couldn’t not do it, but now I’d kill for her not to be my responsibility.
Three Years Ago
“Come on, P. Answer the fucking door!”
“Linc, maybe she’s not home.” My brother stands next to me outside Penelope’s shitty foster home. She hasn’t been to our house for two days, and that’s fucking weird for her.
I bang on the door again. “I know you’re here! Your bike’s out front.”
My parents offered to buy her a car, but Penelope wasn’t having it because she’s a real pain in the ass. She did, however, let them buy her a bike for her sixteenth birthday.
“We aren’t leaving until we see you.”
Colt looks around the shitty neighborhood, looking worried. I swear his face looks the same as it did the first day we met P. We come from the same privileged background, but this type of setting definitely makes my brother uncomfortable.
He likes to hold his girlfriend close in his world but rarely steps into hers.
“Maybe we should go.”
“No fucking way. We’re here.” I turn back to the door and raise my voice, “And we aren’t leaving until we see P.”
Colt grips the back of his neck anxiously, and then finally the door opens slowly. Penelope barely peeks her head out, only the left side of her face visible. “What are you guys doing here?”
“You in hiding or something?” I ask, and Colt stiffens next to me, probably having the same uneasy feeling I have, only he shows it on his face and I’m much better at hiding it.
“No. I’ve just been busy.”
“Too busy to come and see us?” Colt sounds almost hurt.
“Why don’t you come out here and hang out for a bit?” I try to coax her out, but she looks like a frightened kitten, unmoving and not allowing the door to open more.
“I can’t. You guys should go before my foster parents get home.”
She starts to close the door, but I stop her, placing my hand in and opening the door further.
Red hot rage soars through my body when I see her right eye is swollen and purple. “What the fuck happened?”
Colt moves to her, pulling her into his arms, holding her close. “Pea, what happened?”
She buries her face in his chest and doesn’t say a word.
It’s clear what happened, but we need to hear it, and I ask, “P, did your foster father do that to you?”
She lifts her head out of Colt’s embrace, turning to look at me shyly. “It’s not a big deal.”
What the fuck is she talking about? She’s told us some shit over the years about living in foster care, how she’s bounced from house to house since she was six and how most of the time it was fine. She would get the occasional bad one where the food was terrible or the parents’ heat was turned off because they didn’t pay the bill, but not once did she mention physical abuse.
“Not a big deal? What the fuck is the matter with you, Penelope? That’s a big fucking deal.”
Colt tucks her to his side, glaring at me. “Take it easy on her.”
“No fucking way, Colt. You can’t be okay with this.”
“Of course I’m not, but calm the hell down.”
I turn to Penelope. “What happened?”
She shrugs her shoulders and looks down at the ground as if she’s ashamed, and I don’t like it. She has my family thinking she’s a meek little girl, shy and pristine, but I see something different. I see her strength, the fire burning in her eyes.
“He was drunk and pissed-off that I left my shoes on the floor.”
“So, he fucking hit you?”
She nods, lifting her eyes to look at me. “It came out of nowhere. He’s never even raised his voice before.”
“That motherfucker.”
Colt looks pained. “We have to report it.”
Now Penelope looks panicked as she shakes her head. “No. You can’t.”
He looks at her confused. “Why not? He hit you, Pea.”
She pushes out of his hold, which is strange for little Ms. Perfectly Behaved. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to move again. I just want to ride out my time and get to graduation.”
“But he hit you. What if it happens again?”
“It will,” I add, knowing this isn’t an isolated incident.
She looks directly at Colt. “Promise me you won’t say anything. I don’t want to deal with cops and then getting moved again. I’m tired of it, Colt.”