Episode 15

"What's going on Olivia?" Mr. Hawk hissed, turning to my mother who shook her head with shrugged shoulders, "Why is he here?"

"I wasn't aware the entire family was going to be home," my father chuckled, shoving his palms in his pocket, and gazed amongst us before meeting my eyes. He raised his eyebrows when he saw me, "Ready to go?"

I frowned, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Eric and Mike turn to me with widened eyes. "Go where?"

"Home," he smiled. The last time I saw my father was months before I left Eastwood, and it was not a happy smile on his face as he left the house. There had been an argument with mother before we departed, and I thought his presence would have never been brought up again. However, as he stood in front of us with a grin, his dimples showing from his cheeks, there was a refreshing feeling in my bones.

He cared about me.

Mr. Hawk placed his palm on my shoulder. I glanced backwards, and the look in his eyes were not pleased. I sighed, turning to look back at my father, but before I could reply, Mike stepped in front of me.

"She is home," he snarled, broadening his shoulders. My father scrutinized him, and began chuckling. "What's so funny? You're not even supposed to be here."

"Mike—"

"Don't touch me," he screamed at Alyssa, yanking her grasp from his elbow. She took a few steps back, and Mike resumed his confrontation. "Get lost, big man," he bellowed.

My father raised an eyebrow, "You must be Mike Hawk. Pleasure to meet you. Any chance I can speak to my family without any disturbance?"

"No, not if it's to take them away, you dumb fuck."

"Yes," Mr. Hawk nodded his head calmly, and my mother met his gaze, seeing him struggle to keep his hurt hidden. It upset him, but he relaxed. "You can, outside though."

"That's fine," Allen smirked.

"Dad?!"

"Shut up Mike. It has nothing to do with you, stay out of things that are not your fucking business," Mr. Hawk snarled. He was taking out his anger on Mike, and before a much more dramatic scene could occur, my mother grabbed my wrist and pulled me outside, closing the door behind her. The others stayed inside, and the energy became less tense. The air suddenly did not feel as humid, and it seemed as I could suddenly breathe.

My mother kept a strong hold on my father's gaze, that I needed to remind myself that they were divorced. My father finally turned to me, and smiled. "Hey sweetheart."

"Dad, what are you doing here?" I asked with shock, but he widened his arms and hugged me from the side. "I didn't know you were coming."

"I told your mother."

I turned to my mom who quickly chuckled nervously. "You what?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow in shock.

My mother sighed, "We stayed in contact after I left."

My father nodded my head; all this information was incredulously new that I felt like fainting. I turned to my mom then back to my dad repeatedly; I thought they hated each other once we left, and never wanted to see one another after.

I crossed my arms, determined to make sense of this situation. "So then," I stuttered, turning to my father who raised an eyebrow, "Why are you here?"

My mother sighed stressfully, and leaned towards my father, "We were talking, and your father wanted you to go back home with him?"

"What?" I yelped.

"I never had the chance to discuss it with you," and she turned to my father, "and I didn't think you'd show up here this early."

"Wasn't sure when exactly to show up," my father chuckled, and the eyes he sent my mom were openly flirtatious. I pressed my palm against my forehead, biting my bottom lip. The fact that they kept in contact must have been kept hidden from Mr. Hawk, and I feel awful for him, since he is such a nice person, and such a happiness within my mother that I never saw my father do, evoked.

He met my gaze, "Are you ready to go?"

I felt my heart begin to ache; there were people here I was not yet ready to leave behind, although I had only known them for a few weeks. However, the thought of being back at my home, in my own bed, with my old friends; the simple thought made my entire body fall within a peaceful ease.

A heavy sigh left my mouth, and I cleared my throat. "Can I have a few days?"

My father turned to my mother with an unpleasant tight line for a mouth, and the familiar fear that brightened in my mother's gaze made me shudder. He scared her, and I knew he did. There was a reason they were not together anymore, but the love my mother once felt was too strong to hold them apart. "I live eight hours away, I can't wait a few days," his voice tightened.

My mother shrugged her shoulders, "Then please come back in a few weeks?"

"You should have discussed this with her," his shoulders broadened.

"I'm sorry, I didn't have time—"

"You never have time for me," he spat. His teeth gritted, and his palms bawled into tight fists.

My mother took a step backwards, "Allen, please calm down."

"I am calm," he hissed. He crossed his arms, cursing under his breath before turning to me. "I'll be back within a few weeks, please have your mind made by then. I expect you to choose home rather than here; the family will be brought back together soon anyway."

"I am very happy with my fiancé right now; there's no way I'm going back," my mother challenged.

My father scoffed, "If that were true, you would have signed the divorce papers. Were not divorced, just separated, and you can't get married until we are." He raised his chin, condescending on my mother, "You'll always love me, you're just acting out right now. It's alright, I can wait."

He rolled his eyes in annoyance with a sigh, before turning back to me. "How's William?"

"He's okay," I replied with a small nod, "Getting used to the environment." Truth is, my father never cared about William.

He nodded his head, "That's great to hear. How about you?"

"I'm fine too."

"Those boys better not have done anything to you, or else I will—"

"They haven't Dad," I immediately interrupted, "They've been really nice to me."

My father paused for a moment before nodding his head. He faced my mother, and opened his arms for an embrace, and she did not hesitate to fall within his big comfortable arms. He squeezed her, a little too long, and when she pulled away, I saw the hunger in her eyes. He was right, she was still in complete love with him.

He turned to me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and squeezing me before pulling away. "Take care of yourself, okay?" I nodded my head, and he turned towards the driveway. "I'll be back." When my father left, he did not turn back, and jumped into his car and scurried away. Immediately the door opened, and my heart began to ache from the hurt behind Mr. Hawk's gaze. He seemed to be going through such an agony, that I have never witnessed before.

He approached my mother with gritted teeth, on the brink of crying. His bottom lip trembled, and as my mother reached for him, he pulled back. "You never signed the papers?" he whispered, raising his eyebrows. "Olivia, you're not divorced? You lied?"

My mother's mouth clamped shut; she had no words to explain the sin she had committed.

Mr. Hawk shook his head, needing to pause with all the truth being revealed. "You stayed in contact with him?" he even chuckled at the end of the sentence, in disbelief. "Are you serious Olivia?"

"I'm sorry," my mother whispered, attempting to reach for him again. This time, he allowed her to press her palms against his chest, but did not reach for her. My mother gripped his shirt, staring up at him with watery eyes as well.

The sorry did not soften Mr. Hawk's emotions, as he turned his head and screamed a curse. He faced my mother again, "Tell me you love me."

"Drew—"

"Say it," his voice became stern.

With a shaky breath, my mother whispered, "I love you."

"And say you're not in love with him anymore."

My mother paused, staring back at him. "Please, Drew—"

"Olivia," Mr. Hawk pleaded, finally gripping her jaw and placing a soft peck on her lips before pulling away and whispering, "Say it."

My mother begged her mouth to move, but the truth was, she still had feelings for my father. She looked down, gripping his shirt together. "I can't."

Mr. Hawk yanked her palms from his shirt, and twirled on his heels, stomping inside the home. My mother and I stood outside, the rest of the family at the doorway and having witnessed the whole scene. Since it was already late, we all headed to our bedrooms, and I heard Mr. Hawk's footsteps head to the guest bedroom on the same floor. When midnight reached, and my eyes were still wide open, I heard soft knocks on my door, and was surprised to find Mike open it.

When he entered, I sat upwards, and sent him a weak smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Are you okay?" he asked with concern, taking a seat beside me.

I nodded my head weakly, "It'll pass."

He also nodded his head, turning his gaze away. "My father has been through a lot by the way," he hushed, "He doesn't deserve that."

"I know, I wish my mother didn't do that to him."

"Hopefully they figure it out," he said, pulling the blunt from the top of his ear and the lighter from his short pocket. He marched to my window, swung it open and began inhaling the drug and blowing it from his lungs. He extended the blunt to me, "You want a hit?"

I debated whether to smoke or not, but I needed a relaxer from all the revelations that occurred tonight. Therefore, I stood from my bed and reached him, taking a hit as well and blowing outside my window. I coughed slightly, took another hit and passed it back to him. I crossed my arms beside him. and leaned against the window, staring at the beautiful garden of this mansion.

Mike nudged me over, and he leaned against the window frame as well. "Did you figure out your decision?"

I shrugged my shoulders, watching the clouds escape from his mouth, and he passed it back to me. "I don't know yet," I said before I took a hit and passed it back. "It'll take a few days for me to decide."

He nodded his head understandingly. The blunt was passed between us until it was done, and the effect of the drug began taking place. My body began feeling heavier than before, but I knew it was because I was high. However, even though it was done, we stayed standing side by side, staring at the landscape in front of us. The stars were very bright in this city, and they appeared terribly close to us, that I could reach over and touch one.

"It's really beautiful, isn't it?" Mike cooed.

I nodded my head, "Yea, very."

"Why do you want to go back to Eastwood?"

I paused for a moment, the silence causing both of us to fall into an ease. I finally sighed, "It's my home Mike."

"This is your home now too though. You can't just leave us all of a sudden—"

"You don't understand."

"Then help me understand," he insisted, turning to face me. His gaze burned the side of my face, and my eyes left the stars.

I sent a shivering hand through my hair, and shook my head, "I lived most of my life there."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"It does to me," I replied.

He paused for a minute. "Don't you have fun here?"

I nodded my head.

"And although it may not be a big deal, the big house, and the chefs, and the parties, they're all a plus right?"

"Yes."

"And there's Cole, he really likes you."

"I barely know him though."

"Can you at least look at me, August?" His voice seemed to be pleading, and I sighed before turning his direction. His amethyst eyes were filled with worry, and he bit his bottom lip before suddenly leaning forward, and placing his lips on mine. He gripped my jaw gently, and pulled me towards him. The kiss did not deepen, but it was filled with a different emotion that I was unsure how to describe, and it made my heart feel warm. I gripped the front of his shirt, holding him to me. When he pulled away, he kept his palm on my jaw, and stared at me with such appreciation, that I was unsure if this was the same Mike that insulted me numerous times.

He locked our gaze and whispered, "Don't leave, August. If you don't have any reason not to, then do it for me. Stop trying to leave."

His tone was genuine, but instead of causing me to feel happy, it caused me to shrug my shoulders and gently pull away from him. "You can't do that Mike."

"Can't do what?"

I shook my head, turning away from his gaze, "You chose Alyssa, not me."

He reached for me, tightened his grip around my waist and lifted my chin. "That doesn't matter," he whispered, placing his lips on my neck and cupping my thin flesh with his mouth. My breathing quickened, but I urged to control myself, attempting to withhold all the desires that itched my nerves.

"It does matter—"

"Then tell me to stop," he cooed, placing his palms on the bottom of my thighs and lifting me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he placed me onto the bed, pulling himself on top of me. "Tell me to stop August."

He reached for the bottom of my shirt, and pulled it over my head. He then began kissing my stomach, his palms roaming all different corners of my body, landing on my breast as he pulled my bra. Soft moans escaped my tongue, and his mouth began slipping down and reaching the top of my jeans. He pulled the zipper down, unbuttoned the top, and began rolling down my jeans. The ecstasy began rising within my body, all my hormones creating chaos in my blood. My moans became louder as he pulled my panties to the side with his teeth. A few of his fingers found my mouth, and I sucked on them quickly before he took them away, and found the opening to my private parts. My moan erupted into echoes, and his mouth continued to move with a rhythm that caused my entire bones to feel as if they were melting.

However, there was something strange this time. The hormones weren't enough, the ecstasy wasn't enough. His fingers, his words; nothing was enough, and the hunger I had felt earlier, completely disappeared. I believed he noticed it as well, since he thrusted another finger inside. It did not cause any other pleasure to erupt; I continued to think about Alyssa.

Maybe he did not want me to leave, but I knew I would never be his choice. I knew that this was a form of his manipulation, and he knew I knew it was. I needed to show him I was going to make this decision not based on him, but on my own. Therefore, I soon stopped moving, and said, "Stop."

He raised his head, his eyes in shock. "What?"

"I'm telling you to stop," I said between heavy breaths. He pulled himself upwards, frowning towards me. He shook his head, disbelief deranging his face.

"You don't really want me to stop," he breathed, the rejection never having happened before.

I nodded my head, "I do. Please, stop Mike."

"You're lying to me," he begged, "You don't want me to stop."

"I'm sorry, I can't do this with you."

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