In The Arms Of Danger [Sequel to Make You Mine]

19:

19:

Ian's P.O.V.

Once Elaine and Ava finished their conversation, that left me flailing in the murky waters of my disturbed mind.

I close my eyes before sighing heavily. My stressed body leans forward, and before I know it I'm capturing my hair in my hands. Memories of my childhood terrorize me every waking moment of my life. I have flashbacks, night sweats, and terrible dreams. No one knows this but my father and I. He always hoped I would forget. Maybe it was because he wanted to start over. Maybe he wanted to be the father figure I so desperately needed. Or maybe, he was hoping I'd forget it was for his own selfish gain. Maybe he needed my silence just to save face in the public eye.

But what Martin Hunt didn't realize was that my silence only lived on the outside, because inside, I was a ticking time bomb ready to explode.

I stare awestruck at the text message in front of my eyes. This was the first time someone of the opposite sex wanted to hang out with me. I was fourteen and puberty was hitting me harder than a freight train. All of the changes going through my body overwhelmed me to the point of awkwardness. While every hormonal thought I had begged me to act on it. But of course living with my dad, I'd be lucky to go to the grocery store with Elaine, my step mom. That proves how much I get out.

My phone buzzes, making me jump in alarm.

London: So um, our project on the human body is due next Friday. I think we should kind of meet up to like discuss it?

What? Why was that even a question? Of course we had to meet up. We had our presentation due and to make one, we had to meet up.

But of course it didn't come out that way.

Me: What did the femur say to the patella?

Her: ...what?

Me: I kneed you.

I was so proud of my joke and I was hoping she'd appreciate the laugh too.

Her: oh...so when can we meet up to just get this over with?

My eyebrows pull into a frown the more I read over her bland reply. It was as if the joke went over head. Or she didn't find it funny.

Yeah, it's confirmed, I'm a certified loser. Everything I said or did was so humiliatingly disastrous that I started to see why I became the lower class dweeb. The nerd London Everson got partnered with.

A heavy knock on my door makes me jump. If my dad ever found out Joel got me a phone, he'd kick my ass with Joel's body.

The knob turns, forcing me to act quickly. With adroitness I slip the phone under my books. It works out because I'm at my desk, “studying” for finals next week.

“Why in the hell does your room look like shit?” his voice is leveled while his appearance is the complete opposite. I notice the heavy breathing from his lungs, and the disarrayed nature of his attire. He must have been drinking.

“Hey, I'm talking to you.”

A book is aimed at my face so before it can hit me, I jump up. Wrong move on my part because my dad stalks toward me.

With his fist balled in my collar, he pushes me against the wall. I cringe from the reeking smell of booze on his tongue.

“You knew we had guests coming tonight. That's why I told you to clean your room.” He releases me, shoving my back into the wall. I remain still, intent on not showing any kind of fear.