7
Bobby
Secrets And Lies
Something the fuck is going on, and my gut is hot and heavy because of it. My girl has never lied to me.
Never.
She’s literally unable to, since her eyes are as expressive as the pages in a book. In the whole time I’ve known her, she has never been untruthful or tried to keep secrets – until she got home from Tink’s house tonight.
What the actual fuck happened over there?
Kit texted me all night long – because she knows I worry. She sent messages every hour or so to let me know they were watching a movie, they were eating, Tink had a cold… all that easy shit.
But not once did she let on that something was going down.
I love that she caters to my anxieties and never seems to mind my constant need to know she’s safe, but she used the fact it was text instead of a face-to-face conversation to lie to me.
An omission is still a lie, and I can’t help but feel my heart tug painfully at the thought that she was pretending. She was putting on an ‘all is well’ front whenclearlysomething has happened.
Yes, she’s safe and alive, but apart from the lies in her eyes, I know for a fact her shoulder is killing her and she’s trying to pretend that it isn’t.
What the fuck is going on that has her lying to me for the first time ever?
The girls got home around eleven, and when she and Iz snuck into the house without saying hello, my hackles rose and my stomach began the knotting process that has now firmly taken hold of my gut. They flew up the stairs and had Iz tucked into the guest room before I even got to the top landing. That’s not normal. Any other time, Iz would come into the living room, snuggle in, and wait for her kiss on the top of her head. She’d want to hang out for ten minutes, because despite her‘I’m not a baby. Stop treating me like a baby’bullshit, she still wants those hugs she’s been getting since she was a baby. The girls are hiding from me, they’re evading, they’re purposely keeping secrets, and that doesn’t sit well with me.
And it hurts.
Instead of barging into the guest room when Iz could be changing, I went to our room, instead. I sat on the bed, clasped my hands together, and watched the door. No way was I letting this shit slide.
As soon as Kit came tiptoeing into our room and jumped when she saw me waiting, half of my questions were already answered.
Tears in her eyes, blotchy cheeks, and favoring her left side – ribs included.
What the fuck happened tonight?
“Babe?” I watch her carefully pull her shirt up over her head and gingerly lower her arms. I want to help her, I want to massage her pains away, but I need answers. “Baby? Look at me.”
She doesn’t look. She simply turns her back on me and lowers her shorts until she stands in panties and a bra. Her new ink shines in the overhead light. Her scarring gives the new design a 3D quality. “Hmm?”
I pat the bed beside me to ask her to sit down, but you’d think the softtap tap tapwas a canon blast with the way she jumps with nerves.
My eyes narrow as she continues to avoid my eyes. “Are you okay, baby?”
She fidgets and collects her things, and instead of coming to sit with me like I fucking asked, she walks to the closet and puts her stuff away. That’s another first for us.She didn’t come to me when I asked.
She hesitated. To come to me.
What. The. Fuck?
“Kit. Come here, now.” I don’t want to be an asshole, but my words still come out on a growl. Just stop lying to me, and I won’t be a dick.“Please.” The last time my stomach felt like this, I ignored it and she almost died. No way will I ignore that feeling again. No way will I allow her to brush anything under the rug. And no way will I ignore or go against my instincts again.
I won’t risk her.
Her hesitation feels like a pitchfork in my stomach, and every second that she hesitates, every second she chooses to line up her shoes in the closet instead of come to me, is a new twist of the fork.
“Babe!”