Page 31 of Falling for You

I know when my uncle calls me into his study the next night that I’m about to get ripped apart. I’ve been waiting for him to confront me. I’ve been waiting for him to make us pack up and leave. I have to give it to my uncle though. He never does anything I expect.

My uncle is pouring from a decanter of bourbon when I walk into the room. He knows that because my dad was also an alcoholic, as well as a thief, I always refuse to drink. He pours a small glass and hands it to me. “I think you’ll need this by the time this conversation is over.” His voice is full of the old South and smooth as molasses. I won’t lie and say he doesn’t scare me. He’s a rattlesnake underneath his refined clothes. He’s always waiting for the right moment to strike.

I take the glass and hold it tightly in my hand. I refuse to give into the tradition of alcoholism that runs through my blood. I certainly won’t give this man the satisfaction of imbibing in front of him.

His long strides eat up the thick carpet and he takes a seat behind his wide mahogany desk. He sips from his own glass, and puts it down slowly. I sit down across from him and try not fidget in the uncomfortable wooden chair reserved for guests. I’m sure my uncle made it uncomfortable on purpose, imagining with pleasure his enemy’s discomfort across the desk from him. His chair is leather and massive. Of course, he sits higher so that he can look down upon me.

I widen my legs and grip the sides of the chair as I try to meet his eyes. My uncle can smell fear and he relishes any weakness he can exploit. In real life, my physique is bigger than his and I know I could certainly take him in a fight. But underneath the small bit of bravado I have left, I’m shaking like the ten-year-old that was called into this office so many times for past transgressions. Back then, he had a wooden paddle he took joy in swiping across my butt. I would go to school with welts on my behind the next day. The more I cried, the more whacks I got. I quickly learned not to cry. My dad would send me to him, and I don’t think my mom ever knew about my visits to the study. Dear old Dad must have decided that as the head of the family, my uncle could have control over everything including me.

We sit there silently for a moment while we have our own version of a staring contest. My uncle hasn’t changed much in the last twenty years. He always keeps a trainer at his beck and call, and regularly expends energy fucking bimbos from the gym too. He’s basically a southern Ken doll with perfect, if slightly sharp, features. I take immense pleasure in the fact that his hairline is receding.

He places his hands on his desk palm down. The small smile he gives me sends chills up my spine. “Now, Sawyer no need to look so worried. We can have a civil discussion about this little problem that has arisen like proper Southern gentlemen. I’m not here to jump on you like a common yard dog.”

I shift in the chair a little. I fear what comes next out of his mouth much more than I ever feared that paddle across my backside.

“I expect you to take care of this small problem we have with Brad right now. Get close to this Hester girl. Shouldn’t be too hard since she thinks you’re some kind of hero, huh?” He chortles, as if the thought of me being a hero is beyond belief. “Use her trust and get close to her. Get as fuckin’ close to her as you can, even if that includes fucking her. In fact, that would make it look better. Then we could make it appear like she’s just some slut sleeping around with two cousins at the same time. When you’ve gotten as close as you can, dump her and pull the rug out from underneath her. Tell the sheriff and the school board that you were only making up the story because she told you that you could get in her pants if you lied for her. Tell ‘em you lied to get in those pristine panties and to make me angry. Cause, boy you have made me angry. And when I get angry, you know what happens? Your life becomes very difficult and your precious mama gets her ass thrown out onto the street. You can forget the inheritance from your grandparents you’re hoping to get when you turn twenty-one. I can hold that up in court forever, so you won’t see a penny of it.” His smile is downright predatory as he sits back in his chair and steeples his fingers.

I can feel sweat dripping from my forehead. Use Ronnie? I knew my uncle would come up with some kind of punishment for me, but I never expected this. I shake my head slightly just to clear it. I should have known he would go after Ronnie. He doesn’t believe in protecting the innocent or doing what’s fair. He only cares about massaging his own ego and getting his precious son out of trouble. I have to find a way around this.

“Now, boy, I hope you aren’t thinking of saying no to me, because all it takes is one phone call and your mama is out and y’all both are on the streets.” He picks up his cell phone from his desk. I can see the triumph already stirring in his cold blue eyes.

Shit, both of us know I’m not going to say no. My mom is my first priority, always has been. I have to take care of her. My dad couldn’t, but I can.

I clear my throat. “No, of course not. I’ll make sure to get close to the girl.”

I take a small sip of the bourbon and it burns. My uncle grins as I sputter like an innocent taking my first taste of alcohol.

“I knew you would see things my way. Go on then, and romance the little twit. I’ll expect an update soon.” He turns his chair around to face the window and I am summarily dismissed.

I take off for the guest house as fast as my feet will take me. I want to get away from this family so badly that it feels like a giant bear is chasing me. Fear and anxiety claw at my gut and I take a steadying breath when I reach my room. I hate that my uncle manages to make feel the way he does. I hate that he still has control over me.

I blink as my phone dings over and over again in my pocket. Unfortunately, I know what messages are coming through. I pull it from my pocket and curse when I see Brad’s name again.

Brad is out on bail and as stuck on himself as ever. He was sent to stay with my Aunt Gertrude so she can keep him out of trouble. Aunt Gertrude was a teacher for thirty-five years so she’s about as no nonsense as a person comes. She’s also the only person that Brad has ever shown fear of. She’s a tough old bird, for sure. She once spanked both our asses until we couldn’t sit down for pulling roses from her garden.

Staying with her hasn’t stopped him from texting me.

B: Nice way to have your family’s back, cuz.

I don’t reply.

B: Way to choose easy pussy over your family.

I don’t reply to that either, though I want to. I clench my phone in my hand and block his number. I don’t know why I didn’t do that after the first text he sent me. I almost throw my phone across the room when I hear another ding. I can’t help but smile when I see Ronnie’s name pop up.

Chapter Thirty-One

It’s easy to woo a girl by text. It’s all about the emojis.-Dax

Sawyer

For the next few days, I don’t see Ronnie, but I do talk to her on the phone and we text frequently back and forth. She’s funny and sweet, and I want to know everything about her. I desperately want to see her, but there’s also a part of me that knows how bad I am for her. I don’t know what to do about my uncle’s plan. I do know that I can’t carry it out, but I find myself unable to stay away from her. By that Friday night, I’m having Ronnie withdrawal. I’m also wound up tight as fuck from trying to figure out what to do about my uncle. I know he’ll have people watching me to make sure I’m following my orders.

Ronnie:What are you up to tonight?

Me: Thinking about you. What are you up to?

Ronnie:Always smooth with the lines. I’m debating which series to binge watch. Friends or get really creepy and watch You.