The Father

Chapter 24

The sound of her moving and grunting quietly wakes me up. I rub at my eyes slowly as I raise up onto my elbows. She's laying with her head on a pillow and her ass in the air, wrapped up in her comforter, and is staring at me.

"I'm so hungover," she moans. "I feel like shit."

I only stare at her, then sigh.

"That's what you get."

She groans again.

"Do you even remember anything from last night?"

"No, not really. What happened?"

That anger I felt last night begins to trickle in as I wake up more.

"Well... you were shit faced drunk. I asked you not to drink that way, didn't I? And you promised me you wouldn't, didn't you?"

She sighs and buries her face against the pillow now.

"And you were smoking marijuana. I didn't even know you smoked. I thought surely you would've told me that. But I guess not."

"God," she mumbles, then looks back to me. "I'm sorry. I only do it when I'm really wasted."

"Well, last night you were really fucking wasted."

I sit all the way up now and run my hands through my hair. As I stare up at the ceiling she lays on my lap, with her head against my thigh, and I quickly look down to her. I sigh quietly when she begins to kiss me, they're so soft and gentle and give me goosebumps.

"You just said you were hungover."

She only continues to kiss me and I'm becoming hard even if I am pissed at her. I don't want to be blown right now, I want to talk to her and tell her how upset I am with her. Sex or a blow job isn't going to fix the way I feel.

I grab her by the shoulders and pull her back, take her head in my hands, and stare into her eyes. Light is shining in through her windows, but it's hazy, that early morning glow. Her eyeliner and mascara is a mess, but she still looks so beautiful. She always looks beautiful. But right now I'm not going to give into that.

"You hurt me last night by acting the way you did. All I asked was for you to be safe. That's it. I don't ask very much from you, Katherine. Do you understand me?"

She grabs me around the wrists and tries to pull my hands away, but I don't budge.

"Let go of me, Michael."

"No. You're going to listen to me and say that you understand. You could've been raped last night. If I had gotten there even ten minutes later you'd be really fucking hurting right now. Maybe even dead. I don't know what that boys intentions were."

When she tries again to get my hands off of her I hold her tighter and move so that we are nose to nose.

"If anything like that ever happened to you again I would have to fucking kill someone. Your father is lucky I haven't found him and killed him yet. But that's besides the point. You can not drink that way at a fucking frat party when you don't have someone with you with your best interests in mind. It's not safe. Say that you understand me."

Her bottom lip is trembling and she looks as if she's going to cry.

"I understand."

As soon as I let go of her she rushes out of the bed, to her dresser, and quickly pulls a t-shirt on. She doesn't look at me or say a word as she leaves the room.

"Fuck," I mutter.

She's so damned difficult. I wouldn't act this way if I didn't care. Does she not get that? Is she really that blind?