The rain poured down so hard that I couldn’t see out the window in front of me. My brothers had long since fallen asleep and were snoring so loud you could hear them over the storm. And my parents were arguing even louder than the boys were snoring as usual. This time it was about the stupidity of this trip which that in itself is stupid because they both wanted to go this trip for their own reasons. Father wanted girls to fuck and a way to rape me without getting caught. And mother wanted to find guys to fuck herself. Both all they wanted was to cheat on each other and hurt each other. They should have left us at home with Aunt Jenna and Uncle Kane. But we have to get dragged in to their little war and used as pawns to hurt each other.
All of a sudden the car swerved and we slid into a ditch and got sucked into the foot of water and mud. And that just started another round of arguing between them. Great, that’s going to get us out of the ditch real fast I thought with a sneer. On top of that my brothers got woke up with the loud noise and sudden accident and they immediately started crying and screaming. Which in turned pissed off my parents even more. So, in the midst of the storm, arguing, screaming, crying and cussing, no wonder they didn’t hear him coming. But I did, I heard him and wondered who he was right before he tapped on our window.
Everybody froze and immediately stopped doing whatever they were doing. So for a few seconds for the first time it was actually quiet around my family. Then my father rolled down his window and I saw him. I couldn’t see the color of his eyes and hair because of the rain, but what I saw made my breath catch a bit. He wasn’t beautiful in a normal sense of the word; his face was too angular and formidable to be that. But he had I rugged handsomeness that probably got him a few hopeful looks from pretty women.
"You guys need help?" he asked when my father got the window down. I saw my mother’s eyes light up and knew my father had saw that and was about to say no when I opened my mouth.
I never speak because it’s useless and will just piss them both off now and father always comes up with punishments when I "take my mother’s side of things". I could care less about their stupid war, but I wanted out of the rain and into someplace warm.
"Yes, our car slid off the road and we don’t know where we are," I said softly hoping he heard me. I haven’t talked in a while.
But somehow he heard me and he nodded and said, "Alright come on out and I help grab your bags," already opening the door to our seats and unbuckling my youngest brother from his seat. My father looked pissed and looked back at me with a promise of retribution in his eyes.
I shrugged mentally, nothing he could do to me that hasn’t already been done. I clicked open my seatbelt and grabbed my bag at my feat. My father saw that he had been overruled and had to go along with us to seem normal. My mother was ecstatic and nearly jumping up and down with joy. I looked at the guy again and felt a little flutter in my heart; I hoped he didn’t take her up on her offer. I frowned to myself, that was weird I have never cared about my parents infidelity. I examined the emotion I felt and realized that I still didn’t care, what I cared about was the fact that he would do it. That is what hurt and again I was confused.
Why would I be hurt
, I thought with a mental frown. I just met him and I don’t even know his name yet, I probably won’t even, like him when I do get to know him. I don’t like many people, just my Aunt Jenna. Then shrugged, why should I worry this is probably the only time I will see him, so whatever. I turned to help him grab our bags but his hand reached out and instead grabbed my bag and pushed an umbrella into my hand. Okay, I thought, he needs two hands to grab the bags, so I reached back to grab my bag to carry with the umbrella and he shook his head.
"No, a lady shouldn’t have to carry heavy things," he said with a slight frown.
I raised my eyebrows and said," Fine, but I am not a lady," with a small laugh. I had never been a lady if there was such a thing. My father saw to that.
"All women are ladies, "he said with a smile that made me catch my breath for a sec. which again puzzled me but again I ignored it and kept going.
"I will have to disagree with you," my father said before I could say anything.
The man looked at him and his face grew dark, "What do you mean by that," he asked with quiet menace that t seemed I was the only one who heard.
My father gave a nasty laugh and said," Because most women are sluts and whores," he said while at first looking at my mother and then in turn looking at me.
The man looked at my father, then my mother and then he looked at me. He gave a small smile when he looked at me and then he turned and said, "Maybe some women are, but that doesn’t mean you have to be rude about it."
My father sneered and said," If they are then they don’t deserve to be treated with courtesy."
The man’s face darkened more and he said," Well the time you’re in my house, you will, then you can do whatever you want when you leave," in a anger tightened voice.
My father finally got the message and said," Well I respect others beliefs so fine," in a tiny voice. My mother through all this was watching the man with a look of rapture on her face. I sniffed in disgust hopefully she will wait till tonight to try and jump him.
"Hey little one, come here with the umbrella," the man said looking at me with a smile," I need you to follow me back, so I can get these to my house without getting wet."
I walked over to him and did as he asked. I watched him as he walked in front of me and I watched the play of muscles on his back as he walked. And I felt a clenching deep inside of me that I had never felt before. I frowned and thought about this feeling, could it be sexual awareness, I thought. No, not me I would never feel something like that.
"You are awfully quiet back there little one. You don’t won’t to talk to me? Do I scare you?" the man asked me in a quiet voice. I was startled out of my thoughts and I stared at him in surprise. Scared of him? Not in a million years besides I stopped fearing things a long time ago. What can they do to me? They can kill me but I don’t fear death, it would be welcome sometimes, but I hate suicidal people most in this world. They can torture me but what can they do that hasn’t already been done.
"No you don’t scare me,’ I told him slowly, "This is the most I have talked in ten years. So, I am sorry if I don’t talk much."
He looked back at me with a raised brow and asked," Exactly how old are you?"
I tilted my head at him as he watched me and gave a small huff as I thought. "I was born January 24, 1994, so that would make me about 17 years of age,’ I answered after I did some quick math.
He looked at me for a second and then asked," You don’t know your own age?"
I look at him in shock and gave a tiny laugh," Why would I keep up with my age, life begins, is lived however a person wants and then they die, it’s no use worrying over how old you are," after laughing a bit.
He looked at me for a minute or two and then one side of his mouth quirked up. "You are very wise for one so young," he said in a slight wonder filled voice as if he couldn’t believe I existed.
"It isn’t the biological age that counts," I said," but the things you do and the things that are done to you in life that age you, you can be fifty but act and think like a two year old and vice a versa," I said.
Before he could answer me, we had arrived at his door. He looked disappointed for a second and then he turned back and opened his door. "Come in for a second," he told me. I thought about it for a second and then shrugged, for some odd reason I trusted him like I trusted Jenna. Only I might trust him more, and that again was odd considering I just met him.
Then I laughed silently, I don’t even know his name. "Might, I ask what your name is," I asked politely wanting a name to the person I had trusted within moments of meeting him. He turned around and raised an eyebrow at me in question.
"I would like to know your name and besides I don’t think the man is going to cover what I call you," I said patiently. He gave a laugh and seemed surprised by it.
Then he said," My name is Nicolas." Nicolas, I thought, what a name, I like it sounds noble and yet at the same time care-free. "Nicolas Raze," he finished slowly. "Do you mind if I call you Nick?" I asked him softly.
I refused to call him sir, I might only be 17 and he looks like he is in his high 20s low 30s but I felt that I could have a friend in him. He tilted his head at me and gave a smile, "Yes, I think I will let you, I like you and I don’t like many people."
Now I was curious, how old was he exactly? I wanted to see if I was right. "How old are you," I asked next before I lost courage. "I am 28," he told me. So, I was right, I thought with a twinge of satisfaction. Nick turned and set the bags down and turned to me and said, "You stay here while I go get the rest and your family," he pointed behind him at the fireplace," I want you to sit down and warm up."
Then he moved to a counter that I just noticed and took a plate of cookies and placed them in front of the fireplace with a glass of milk. Then he took the umbrella from my hand and went out the door, closing it tightly behind him. I looked around me at him home and was entranced at the beauty surrounding me. He had money that much I could tell. The floor and walls was a gorgeous deep brown hardwood. There were hand-woven rugs that looked Persian and there were red flannel blankets hanging on the wall, and brown silk curtains hanging at the windows. I looked over at the kitchen area and saw granite top counters, blue linoleum, and silver kitchen features like the sink. Yup, I thought, definitely money.
Everywhere I looked there was hand carved or woven things that looked like it cost and arm and two legs. I turned to the stone fireplace and noticed a bookshelf out of the corner of my eye. I turned and saw an open door to a room that had the bookshelf in it. I got up, and then I stopped and bit my lip. He had told me to stay put, there might not be things he wanted me to see and he might think I’ll take something. Then I shrugged, I was only going a few feet to look at books not stealing everything he owns. I got up, taking the cookies and milk with me of course, and walked to the door and pushed it the rest of the way open. Inside was a virtual treasure trove.
It was a huge library with floor to ceiling bookshelves that were crammed to the brim with all types of books about everything under the moon. I walked in and went over to the first bookshelf; on it was the complete works of Shakespeare across the first shelf. I took down the first book and walked over to the big chair in front of the fireplace in the room. He had a fireplace in more than one room, I thought, not only money but big money like with the 6 zeros at the end.
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