Oblivion

Chapter 41

Paxton Clark

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sit in class and stare at the small flame coming from the small lighter in my hand.

"Glad you like it." I hear her gorgeous voice.

I look up and see her turned around in her seat looking at me.

I smile at her.

She was wearing a denim jacket and a white crop top underneath. Gorgeous.

"You were right, it does help." I tell her.

"I'm always right." She brags.

I chuckle.

She moves her gaze to my hand that I sprained.

"What happened?" She questions.

"From my mission. I got pushed against a wall." I tell her.

She places her hand out for me and I stare at it.

"I can't touch you." I blurt out.

She frowns at me.

"Why not?"

"I'll hurt you." I whisper.

"No, you won't. I trust you." She reassures me as she grabs my sprained rest and examines it.

I watch her as she looks closely at it.

I don't wanna hurt you, Ivy.

I love you so much.

I shouldn't be allowed to touch you.

~~~~~~~~~~

"We need to talk." William says as she stands in front of the TV.

"I'm trying to watch." I tell him as I place a spoonful of cereal in my mouth.

He turns around and turns the TV off and looks at me.

"What?" I question.

"Your parents left money in their will for you." He says.

"They did?" I ask.

If I get this money, I can finally move out.

"Yes, but since I'm your legal guardian now. I talked to a few of my people and they figured out a way for me to have the money instead of you." He explains.

I feel my blood boil as I hear those words come out of his mouth.

"You took my money?"

"Yes, Paxton. I did." He says.

I slam the cereal bowl on the coffee table and stand up.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I yell at him.

"Excuse me?"

"My parents left it for me! Not for you!" I shout.

"You are living under my roof. I don't care what you think. I did what I had to do." He tells me.

I feel all my rage and anger come out as soon as my fist meets his jaw and he falls to the ground.

"Rot in hell, William." I tell him before I grab my phone and walk out of the house.

I start to make my way across the street but stop halfway down my driveway when I see the front door of her house open.

"Tristen, please." I hear her cries.