It was nearly two months later on Christmas Eve when I was storming out of my house. My scarf was blowing in the breeze and my hat was snugly covering my ears. My mother, currently drunk out of her mind, burned my dance bag and the two or three presents I had in a metal garbage can out back.
I climbed up the fire escape and into the dance studio. The mirrored wall was covered with fluorescent post-it notes. I took off the first one and looked at it.
I want to earn it-D, the first one said.
The next ones were all small notes to me. They told me stories about him and his family. From lighting his bed on fire to his issues with a football player on his team. His hopes and dreams were plastered all over the place and I collected every note and sat reading. It took me about two hours to get through all of them.
Two months was a lot of time to not talk to anyone. Then it struck me. I was alone on Christmas Eve.
tears leaked from my eyes slowly. With a soft sob I pulled my knees into my chest and closed my eyes while leaning against a wall.
My mind was a dark place to be in right then. My mother didn't love me. My father was secretly trying his best. I had one friend and I had pushed away the chance of another. I was the biggest idiot in the world and on more than one occasion I wished I was six feet under.
"Want to talk about it?" Daxton's rich voice rumbled as light footsteps approached me. I wiped my eyes and shook my head.
I watched his movements carefully. The right side of his mouth twisted into a slightly crooked smile as he noticed all his notes around me. He moved slowly to sit beside me and handed me a bag I hadn't even noticed was in his hand.
"What's this?" I asked curiously.
"A present," he replied. "Open it."
At his urging I opened the little gift bag and pulled out two huge blocks of post-it notes, a black pen and a soft knit white infinity scarf with a matching hat. He placed the scarf and hat on me before taking a picture of me on his phone.
"Why did you just take a picture of me?" I asked as I took off the hat.
"It lasts longer than staring," he replied easily. After eyeing him nervously I smiled.
"Thank you for these."
"It was no problem."
I opened a package of post-it notes and then the pen. With very little thought I wrote my first note.
My favourite colours are silver and white.
I handed him the note and watched the small smile grace his face. I passed him another note with my full name on it.
"Your whole name is the names of colours?"
"Yes. Ebony Violette Black. My mother is...special." That didn't sound like the right word though. Idiotic and drunk would be more appropriate.
"Once when I was thirteen I decided to annoy my mother so I took a shower and screamed about drowning. Another time we were in the mall and I loudly asked her how babies are made."
I chuckled and looked at him sideways. He winked at me and grabbed the notes from my hands before sticking them and my presents in the bag.
"Would you like to go get some breakfast?" he asked.
"At nine at night?"
"No better time. I'll make it." He grabbed my hands and hauled me to my feet.
"Tell me something else you did," I said as we walked down the street.
"Yesterday I followed my mom around with an easy button and pressed it after she did something."
I laughed and tugged my hat farther down over my ears. "Doesn't your mother get mad?"
"Yes. It's pretty funny to watch too. Her face goes slightly red and her jaw clenches. Her hands form fists and she places them on her hips. It's hilarious. She loves me though so I only get yelled at."
We ended up at a house three streets away from mine. I frowned at him and shook my head. Maybe he was just using me. If he had lived here all along why didn't he talk to me? It was possible he just moved in and I didn't notice but he didn't mention anything in the notes about it.
"How long have you lived here?" I hissed venomously.
"A week and a half. I promise Ebony. Now come in and let's eat."
"You know what happened with my mother tonight don't you?" I accused without budging an inch. "You heard everything."
"Yes I did and I went to find you. You haven't been to the studio in weeks so I didn't know where you would go."
"Why?" I watched as the small trace of happiness fled from his face and a dark glower took over.
"Let's just say I've had some experience."
I kept quiet after that while he fed me before his mother found us and insisted I stay in the guest room for however long I may need. She was a sweet little redhead.
"Are you sure you're okay with me staying here?" I asked Daxton as he threw me some clothes to wear.
"Of course. Mom has secretly trying to find reasons to get you to stay here."
"Why?" I asked curiously.
"We can hear the screaming and slamming at your place."
I frowned and nodded before he left and I got changed into his shirt and a pair of his mom's pyjama pants. She was only a little taller than I was so they fit nicely. Daxton's shirt fell to mid thigh.
"I don't think I've ever seen my shirt look better," Daxton commented when I let him back in the room.
"Hitting on the guest?" I teased while sitting down on the wood floor.
"Only if it gets her to notice me."
"Senior and the quarterback. How could anyone not?" I answered. "Anyways are you sure it's okay for me to be here? It's Christmas Eve and you should be with your family."
He just silently grinned and took my hand in his. His thumb ran over my knuckles gently before he kissed them an left the room.
I wish I could have gone to Iliana's. She and her family were away at some resort for the next month though. With my head in my hands I cried on the cold wood floor.
"Are you okay?" Lindy, his mom, asked as she entered the room.
"I will be," I whispered. She sunk down beside me and looked like she wanted to say something. I turned curiously to her and waited to hear what she had to say. After taking a deep breath she began to speak.
"My ex-husband was abusive. Not an alcoholic but still abusive. I haven't figured out if that makes it worse or not. Anyways he never laid a hand on Dax but he hit me a lot. Daxton has always put himself in the position of protector and that has been his downfall."
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked curiously. She rolled up her sleeves before grabbing my wrist. Her wrist had thin shallow scars like mine.
"We all have our scars to bear. Some are more open about it than others. When you and my son finally get together I want to know that you can help him because he is willing to help you. Even if it means walking away."
"What does he have to be protected from?" I asked. She held up a finger and listened for a few minutes before shouts and a crash were heard.
"He's two doors down on the right. Go to him and wake him up from his nightmare. Please save my son."
"What If I can't?"
"Then at least you tried." She sighed and leaned her head back against the bed. "Please go to him."
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A/N: So what did you guys think of this chapter? Which Richards do you prefer? Daxton or Lindy? Who's your favourite character so far?
If you guys enjoy this story so far you may enjoy my new novel, Under a Blanket of Stars, which will be posted on October 10, 2018.