Novels2Search
Godfather
Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

-VEA-

My godfather never did what I asked him to. He basically just got up and left before asking me what I wanted to eat for dinner. I told him that I wanted steak, and that was what we had that night. Afterwards, I went to bed, and was surprised when I received a text from him.

From the disgraced boy. I quickly replied and soon realised that he wanted to meet me again. I was more than overjoyed, because I found him the only way I had to kill time these days. We agreed over the phone for him to drop by, and I was fresh out of a shower that evening when the door bell rang and I immediately knew it was him. I sped out of my bedroom and headed for the front door, and opened it to him.

“You came!” I said.

He smiled, then stepped into my house. Ruthlow smiled at him from his position behind the kitchen counter, still chopping onions. I closed the front door behind the boy after pointing him to the direction of my bedroom. He went on his way and as I trailed after him, my godfather gestured with his hands.

I nodded, and gave him an okay sign to let him know that I still had the condoms he gave me.

I disappeared into my bedroom with the boy, and he stood by the foot of my bed in his striped shirt with the same baggy jeans that I figured now must be the only pair of bottoms he has in his wardrobe. I climbed up onto the bed, and patted the space on it beside me. He hesitated a little, but climbed right onto that empty spot.

“I missed you,” I said, staring at him happily.

He didn’t say anything. And after I said a few sentences, I was growing restless.

“Well, say something,” I insisted.

“I walked around my lawn today, in circles, studying the behaviour of my neighbours and looking up to see if I could catch the sun changing its position across the sky. I wanted to spend enough time there, to catch it moving across the blue. But I ended up heading to the mall.”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

I turned away.

He continued. “I went to the mall. I didn’t know which store to go to, but I went in and out of a few of them. Found nothing of note to buy, then I thought I should head to the park, but I didn’t know if I really wanted to go there.”

I tried to interlock my fingers through his. He moved his hand away.

“I’ve been wandering these past few weeks, lost. So utterly lost,” he said.

“You should’ve invited me out,” I chided.

He stared at me with an unreadable expression. “I wish our circumstances had been different, Vea,” he said. “I wish you didn’t have to go through what you did in your past, whatever it was that made you have a bad relationship with se-se- “

“Sex?”

“Yes.”

I smiled. “It’s okay. Didn’t I say that already?”

“I wish I met you at morning church, and we exchanged our phone numbers to chat with each other. Get to know each other better to see if we were a good fit for marriage. I would’ve brought you to dinner, pulled the chair for you to sit down, and sent you to your doorstep after every date.”

My mouth wanted to hang open.

“I wish,” he said. “That we had gotten married, and I’d become a pastor. And I’d work in the day, and come home to you. And you would bear me many children that we would adore together, and every time I came home from work, there would be a feast for all of us that you prepared.”

“We can have that,” I said. Yeah, right.

“We should’ve had that, but you know, sometimes things just don’t happen the way you want them to,” he said. “They would’ve been the way I wanted you, had you not been such a s-s-s-s-s-s-slut!” he said, becoming breathless towards the end of his sentence.

I laughed.

“You’re laughing?” he said, a little spit flying from his mouth. “You think it’s funny? After what you did to my standing at school, after what you did to my mother, after what you did at the theatre where you actually - you actually dared to laugh when - when - “

“When I gave you a handjob?” I said, eyes twinkling with humour.

His gaze on me turned even more steely, and I rubbed the corner of my eyes with a finger to prevent the tear from dropping.

“I’m sorry,” I lied.

“I should teach you a lesson right now.”

“Sure, go ahead,” I said, glaring at him. “You can’t even say the word - “

Suddenly, his palms were fused to either of my shoulders, and he pushed me down on the bed. The back of my head hit the mattress, and I gave a yelp. His hands were rough on me, and he was trying to tear my top away. The buttons popped off, and the shirt parted in the middle, which was when his hands began to rove to other parts -

I screamed.