I leaned against the closed dinner room door. My heart pounded in my chest. There was only one place to go, Jake would be riling from that interaction with Dean, and I knew he'd be stewing up there.
The walk to his room didn't take long, probably because all I could think about was how I'd calm Jake down. After knocking on his door for five minutes, I pushed it open to see Jake angrily shoved pieces of clothing into a bag.
Someone says something he doesn't like, and Jake decides to run away from home. The childish action would have been funny if it weren't so sad.
"What are you doing?" I said, acting astonished as though I hadn't seen him pull the exact same move three months ago after Robert flew back to America on urgent business. That night, Jake's temper had reached a record high when he'd discovered our father had taken Dean and not him.
"I'm leaving. Fuck this shit, I've got better things to be doing than be schooled by an absent father and his side kick." Jake kicked over the desk chair which got in his path.
Jake had a tendency to hit out. This being his go to strategy when things weren't going his way, a tantrum. They normally came in the form of a bag being packed as he made threats. Thankfully Jake had never pulled this stunt on me, however that didn't make watching them any easier.
The trick was a few sweet words.
"You can't go. Jake please stay." I stopped Jake from angrily pacing and held his hands in mine.
He really wasn't that hard to understand, perhaps that's why we got on so well. All Jake wanted was to feel loved and needed, like most people. When he didn't feel those things, he acted irrationally.
"Why? If you want to put up with their shit you can, but I don't need to. I've got a life in America that I want to get back to." Jake ripped his hands from mine and returned to packing.
"I want to get to know my dad." A simple truth that angered Jake further. I realised my mistake straight away. Jake was an insecure hot-head, two things which should never be mixed.
"Why? Why would you want to get to know such a shitty person?" Jake asked as if the notion was madness.
His tone suggested he didn't actually want an answer, so I sat, watching him try and fail to land any clothes successfully into the suitcase. He flung them so forcefully around they often missed it entirely and landed on the bed.
"I've known him my whole life and guess what? I wouldn't bother. When my mum died he didn't shed a single tear, didn't comfort me." No longer did Jake fling clothes around. He stood holding a yellow t-shirt, looking longingly at it.
I'd never experienced the death of a parent so I couldn't share in Jake's pain. That didn't stop me from seeing the raw emotion on his face, the tears just being kept at bay by his eyelids. Jake rarely talked about his mum but when he did, it often went hand and hand with Robert not being there for him.
Jake sat down heavily onto the bed, still holding the t-shirt.
"My mum struggled with her illness for five years before she died. That man didn't offer any support unless it came with a pay check. He's a user and you'll soon figure that out for yourself." Jake's face twisted into what I can only describe as a knowing smile.
"What'd you mean?" My voice seemed to bring Jake out of a place I couldn't go. He looked up at me blinking like he'd just woken up. I could see him tracking back over the words he'd spoken in his head. Something was off, I just didn't know what. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
"Of course not. It's just a figure of speech." Jake spoke too quickly for it to be anything but a lie. The redness creeping up his neck confirmed my suspicions. Why he felt the need to lie was beyond me, but I decided to drop the matter. The events of today had taken any possible fight out of me. The only thing I wanted right now was a bed.
"Anyway, will you stay?" Jake fixed his eyes back onto the t-shirt he was holding. "Come on, you still have me. And dad won't even really be around that much. Us siblings need to stick together." I sat next to him, trying not to sit on the clothes which was a near impossible task. "And I need you." I nudged him playful, when he looked at me a shadow of a smile graced his lips.
"Whatever, but if anymore shit happens I'm out of here." Another lie.
"Deal." I said, holding my hand out. He took it willingly and the pact was made.
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Given a normal night, no way would I have had the balls to walk through the eerily quiet house. No energy saving here, as all the lights in the hallway stayed lit. They had the past couple of nights as well.
I took comforter in the warm colours and brightness the lights brought, they reminded me of where I really was. Safe with my father and brother. Repeating that over in my head did little to stop the hammering of my heart, which still needed to recover from tonight's nightmare.
I'd forgotten what dreams felt like, only the nightmares of Helen's voice snarling in my ear before the sharp pain I'd come accustomed to returned. In some ways I'd become grateful for the pain, it was always that which woke me from the hellhole my own brain forced me to live through.
Shakenly, I'd turned on the light and knew I couldn't stay in that room. As beautiful as my father had made it for me, a negative energy hung there, a swirl of pain I needed to escape from or I'd become consumed by it.
Wandering aimlessly as I normally did around this building which had way too many rooms and corridors, I eventually found the main staircase.
The hand crafted oak bannister flowed down the stairs, as each step pressed into the carpet with my descent I couldn't help but imagine myself as someone important, a princess or queen perhaps. Below, many people would watch, waiting for my grand entrance, bewildered by the elegant dress I wore.
A silly thought, for one I hated attention. In reality, someone would have to pull me very inelegantly down or I'd stay hidden upstairs forever.
That didn't prevent me from wishing I could be the person who did have the confidence to walk with her head high as people stared at her. To be like Gemma, who must know the looks were because of her outstanding beauty. For me, it normally meant I'd said or do something wrong.
Even with socks on, the marble entrance floor felt cold beneath my feet. Padding across the room quickly, listening to any sound, I made my way through the house. My heart pounding in my chest as if I was a criminal. The moment I heard a voice my body halted in its tracks.
Their conversation was in another language, however the frequent laughter told me they'd turned away from me. It echoed around the corridor they walked through.
I continued to curiously walk, my only real fear was bumping into Victoria or Dean. That would be like jumping from one nightmare into another. Victoria's non-stop catty and unnecessary remarks had a draining energy, and Dean, well he clearly disapproved of me. Since that night I'd walked out, his cold stares sent chills down my spin even from afar.
To escape them, I'd spent the last two days either reading in the half completed library or watching films with Jake. Not the amazing summer I'd expected but not the worst.
I had yet to make a single friend, bar Jake.
Fortunately my luck seemed to be changing as I spotted the kitchen ahead, with nobody in sight I sneaked a quick look into the fridge. Was this wrong, to snoop around another's kitchen, even if it is my fathers?
Any thoughts of wrongdoing quickly vanished when my eyes laid on the leftover pie from dinner. My stomach grumbled with approvement as I placed the pie into the microwave and pressed the five minute button.
Pacing up and down for what felt like the longest five minutes of my life, but it all became worth it as I pulled the hot plate out and onto the side. Rummaging through the draws, I grabbed the nearest fork and dug in.
Just as the food scolded the roof of my mouth, I heard the voice of the last person I wanted to see.
"I find that if you eat the food provided at dinner time, you don't wake up hungry at night." His condemning tone caused me to swallow the painfully hot food. Fire followed as it burned down my throat.
Blinking back tears I met his cloudy grey eyes, his expression was unimpressed as always.
"I'm not hungry." My voice sounded strained from the blistering pain in my mouth. I regretted giving him the satisfaction of a reply, his eyes briefly dropped to my plate of food, as if saying 'exhibit A'.
My dislike for the guy grew more each moment that passed. Here I was, cotton PJ shorts and a white vest top, whilst he stood in his signature black tailored suit trousers and crisp white top. His perfection was hard to be around.
"So you're here eating for what? Fun? John is an excellent chef, if you don't like the food he makes, he'd rather you say something than merely push it around the plate." Dean stepped further into the room, dominating every inch. The rebellious side of me which Chase had brought out wanted to push back.
"I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk. It's only by chance I ended up here and thought maybe some food might be left over." Attitude laced my words, I watched Dean's eyes sharpen at it, he didn't like my sass. The fact he was emotionally void all the time, told me that any glimpses of feelings were because he wanted me to see them.
"You couldn't sleep because you're hungry and you're hungry because you didn't eat your food. I don't see the chance part." Well of course he wouldn't.
"You think you're always right don't you?"
"It's because I normally am." And with that Dean leaned against the counter behind me, forcing me to turn around and leave my food. Whatever game he was playing, Dean was winning and he knew it.
"Well for your information, I had a nightmare. I went for a walk to calm myself down. And if you and Jake didn't take it upon yourselves to turn every meal time into a hostile board meeting, maybe I'd relax enough to eat." Dean's glaze never left my face, his mouth opened just a fraction but before a word could leave his mouth I held up my hand, cutting him off. "Save your quick comebacks for Jake, I'm not him."
Before I could register it, Dean had advanced towards me, only stopping once my hand met his chest. The steady beat of his heart drummed against my palm, telling me that he did in fact own a heart after all.
Although I felt him watching me, I could bring myself to tear my eyes away from where our bodies connected. I wasn't even touching him probably yet I felt an odd pull, I should remove my hand, break the contact. I just didn't want to.
Sensing my reluctance, Dean stepped nothing more than a few inches forwards but they made all the difference. I felt aware of my every breath, his aftershave surrounded the air pulling me deeper into whatever illusion he'd created.
"I'm very aware that you're not Jake. Or any man for that matter." As he spoke I made the mistake of looking up, and immediately wished I hadn't. His face was too close for comfort, his eyes saw my every expression.
"What's that meant to mean?" I whispered, almost afraid of the answer.
Dean didn't reply with words, instead he placed his hands either side of me on the counter, trapping his prey. He stood at over six-foot and at this moment in time, all of that leaned over me. Invading any space left. I should have felt intimated, perhaps even scared, what frightened me more was how I felt none of those things. Stood within the restricted area of Dean's arms, I'd never felt so... protected? Surely not.
An awkward cough broke my chain of thought, probably a good thing as well. I turned my head to see one of my father's men standing in the door archway where Dean had been minutes ago. He didn't meet my glaze, the floor seemed to have suddenly become very interesting.
"What is it Tanner?" Dean spoke irritated by Tanner's presence, he hung his head in an act of annoyance.
"The delivery you were waiting for, it's arrived. I've put it in the basement." Tanner's words rushed out.
"Thank you Tanner." Dean dismissed.
I knew Dean was waiting for Tanner to leave, his ears perked up. When no footsteps were heard, Dean lifted his head in Tanner's direction, who still stared at the floor.
"Something else?"
"Mr Flores's flight just left, he'll be landing within four hours."
"Anything I don't already know?" Growled Dean causing Tanner's face to turn a bright red.
"He's asked if the delivery would be functional for when he arrives?" Tanner muttered unsurely, Dean clearly intimidated the guy, actually he seemed to intimidate most people.
"Tell him it will be unpacked and ready to use. Now if that's nothing more, please leave us." Dean spoke through tight lips.
Tanner wasted no time, he disappeared in a blink of an eye.
And just like that, the atmosphere changed into something more intense. I felt the full force of Dean's attention and prayed Victoria wouldn't walk in. She'd probably drag me out into the garden and beat me.
All of that disappeared when our eyes met, no longer did they appear cold, instead they held something I couldn't quite put my finger on.
"What I mean is-" Dean brought his lips to my ear, his breath tickling the side of my neck but I enjoyed the closeness too much to ruin it by giggling.
"The next time you go for a late night walk, try wearing a bra." Dean waited for his words to wash over me, before retreating back to the other counter, I couldn't help but feel played. It took me a moment to fully register the moment, all while Dean watched me struggle to understand, no doubt enjoying the show.
When I did finally come around, anger that I hadn't felt in a long time came to the surface.
"So I've got to restrain myself into a bra because of what? You're afraid of a nipple?" I fired at him, not caring that my anger was on full show. What made it even worse was Dean's light chuckle, it caught me off guard.
"Nipples, there's two." He held up two fingers like I was an idiot.
"I know how many there are." Dean chuckled again, only increasing my anger.
"I say it for your benefit, not mine. Please wear white tops that show the outline of your delicate nipples all you want. Just don't cry when you get the wrong attention." His arrogance astounded me. I hated how at ease he was, leaning against the counter with his arms causally crossed as though we were old friends reminiscing. All the while, I wanted to slap him, dam was this how he made Jake feel?
"You can't be serious right now? Women are asking for it, that's your argument?"
"Don't put words into my mouth, or make me out to be a sexist pig. Facts are facts. The only other woman on this site is Victoria, and she had to work to get the respect she has now, rightly or wrongly." He pushed off the counter to stand at his full over powering height, the mention of Victoria's name left a bad taste in my mouth. "You don't even have half the amount of balls she does. You're a shy girl, who's a pushover."
Nothing he said I didn't already know, so why did it hurt hearing Dean say them out loud. I didn't care for the comments about me I realised, it was his praise for Victoria that irked me.
"Did you learn that about me in your file?" Stubbornly crossing my arms I stood my ground.
I'd expected Dean to be surprised I knew about the file or was hoping he'd deny Jake's claims.
"Perhaps." Dean smirked, an expression he normally reserved for Jake. He rested back on the counter behind, enjoying how uptight he was making me no doubt.
"Surely the solution is to hire those who don't give people the wrong attention. Jake's always calling them your men, maybe you should have more control over them instead of blaming women." Somehow we'd drifted into dangerous territory, there was no way this conversation would end pleasantly. And yet, I couldn't allow myself to walk away and give Dean the upper hand.
"I'm not blaming, I'm warning. My men will not touch you, that I know, but not all these men are mine. Some have very old fashioned views of women and their roles." Dean's words hung in the air as I thought who he might be referring to.
"My dad wouldn't allow something to happen to me." I hoped.
Tilting his head slightly to the side, Dean whispered. "You're dad's not here."
"He will be."
"Not all the time."
Both of us stood silently for a couple of minutes after that. Did Dean really care if someone touched me? I guess it was part of his job to care right? If something did happen to me, from what Jake had said before Dean would be the one dealing with it. On several occasions he's referred to Dean as the executioner.
Maybe it was wishful thinking that Dean's comments seemed to have little to do with work and a lot more to do with me. What was I saying? Why did I care if Dean gives a fuck about me? I don't care about him, I told myself unconvincingly.
Luckily my rumbling stomach reminded me of the pie sitting behind me. Aware of Dean's eyes, I grabbed it off the side and ungracefully shoved a fork full in my mouth. Thank god it had cooled down considerably since my first shovel.
"So by your logic from earlier, you must be hungry too, if you're up at night." I spoke lightly, changing the conversation onto something less intense.
"I came to get a drink, I have a long night of... unpacking ahead of me." As if remembering what he'd finally actually came in the kitchen for, Dean grabbed a glass from one of the cupboards and processed it to fill it.
"You're working? Surely that's illegal, don't you need to sleep?"
"No." I rolled my eyes, of course Dean would believe he didn't need to sleep, he probably thinks he's some sort of superhuman.
"Everyone needs sleep, in fact you working on no sleep could put others at risk."
"Thank you for the concern but I have slept."
Searching, my eyes quickly found their target.
"It's one in the morning, you couldn't have slept for more than three hours. And my concern isn't for you." I added the last bit for my clarification as much as Dean's.
"Noted. I have a sleeping disorder if you must know. It means my body only requires two hours of sleep to function."
"Insomnia?"
"No, not insomnia. My body simply doesn't need more than two, sometimes three hours of sleep to function." Dean sounded agitated as he explained, something he didn't do a lot I bet.
"So insomnia." I said to annoy him more. Apparently he didn't appreciate it when the shoe was on the other foot.
"No, not insomnia." He said getting short with me. "With insomnia, you still require sleep, you just can't. I don't need it. I have a chemical imbalance, apparently less than one percent of the world has it." Dean paused, his whole body froze for a second, instantly I became alert. "I don't know why I told you that." He looked down into the glass in his hand, confused.
"You basically gain a whole six hours extra everyday. That's what? Forty-two hours a week, that's nearly two day more. Wow, you're like a superhero, you must get a lot of stuff done."
"Not if I spend all day chatting to little girls." He growled at me as he walked away, leaving me dazzled from how up and down that whole interaction was. At least now I'd be able to sleep a bit better after playing those mind games.