[+18]* NOW COMPLETE*
Back Series Book 2
Dylan's been a good boy all his life but there's this insurgent flame that has been burning inside him and it's waiting for the right moment to be let out. He doesn't know what or why but he knows that somethi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I've been lying awake for hours now.
Abby's sleeping sound right next to me, with her back to me. She'd fallen asleep tangled in me but had moved in the middle of the night and weirdly, I was thankful.
The last thing I wanted was to be cuddled with her after the big fight we had last night.
I was eager to spend Friday night with her after being scarred for life by my parents. I left before dinner and spent the night at her house. My happy mood soured quickly when she kept ignoring me.
Her friends kept calling her and insisting for her to go with them to a party.
Now, I don't mind her going to parties but she knew I was coming and I wanted to just spend time with her after being away for two weeks. The last thing I wanted was to go to a fucking party.
It's safe to say she threw a tantrum and we had to go to the fucking party. Then out of her mind insisted we couldn't go back to mine.
Well, I didn't budge.
I've seen as much of my family as I've seen of her, so sue me for wanting to spend time with both.
I had planned to spend the night just with her and the day with everyone.
But once again, if things are not Abby's way. They're not, at all.
Not this time.
Suddenly, the barf of someone throwing up sounds from the corridor.
I stand up as carefully as I can, not to wake Abby and see what's going on.
Is dad sick? No, it was too soft to be his. Maye Jeremy or Wilder got something.
The sound gets stronger as I get closer to my parent's room and as I enter and head for the bathroom, the sight before me baffles me. I was expecting to find my mom holding a puking Jeremy or Wilder.
Either one or even both since they're often sick at the same time for sticking together.
But no, my mom's doubled over the toilet, clutching the lid hard with one hand and the other holding her long brown hair. I rush to her, automatically holding it for her and massaging her back in slow circles as she empties her stomach's contents all out.
"Was it another nightmare?" I ask.
It's dreaded information but I still want to know what's bothering her to this extent.
"No, I- Yes," she hesitates before settling on an answer.
That's enough to tell me that the nightmare might not be the only cause for this.
"What's wrong mom? Want me to call dad?"
I reach for my phone but she stops me by grabbing my wrist.
"He's in surgery. He called an hour ago, letting me know that an emergency surgery came as he was about to finish his shift. You know how he is with work, but he'll be home by lunch, let's not bother him."
