I Am The Alpha's Soulbond Mate

Chapter 4

She’s my closest friend, other than Mom.

Who’s dead. It hits me all over again.

I slip into Nero Keres ’s automobile and hunch forward towards the dashboard. “She-she-she’s gone, Nero Keres . She died. Mama died. ”

“I’m so sorry, honey. I’m so sorry, Nelson. ” She leaves the radio off and pulls away off the shoulder, again onto the highway heading away from the Medical Center of Central Georgia and out to the place we live.

Nero Keres lets me cry for a lengthy time before she speaks. “Why had been you walkin’ on the facet of the highway?” Nero Keres has the ideal southern belle accent down pat. She cultivates it, I think. I’m usually making an attempt to sound much less like a mid-Georgia hick, however the accent creeps in sometimes.

“I obtained in a fight with Daddy. He…he usually has to be in charge. You know? Everything, all the time. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t. Everything has to be his way. Even when we had been fighting, he had to control what I did and what I said and what I felt. ” I sniffled. “I…I assume I hate him, Dev. I do. I understand he’s my Daddy and I must love him, however he’s just…he’s a jerk. ”

“I don’t be aware of what to tell you, Nelson. From the whole thing you’ve informed me, he is form of a jerk. ” She glances over her shoulder as she modifications lanes, and shoots me a sympathetic smile. “You favor to stay with me for a while? Momma and Daddy won’t mind. ”

“Could I?”

“Let’s grab your stuff,” Nero Keres says, making an attempt to be cheerful.

Daddy is in his study with the door closed. That tells me a lot; Daddy never, ever closes the door to his find out about except he’s virtually upset or “deep in prayer. ”

I pack a bunch of garments and my toiletries in a bag, grab my duffle bag of dance gear, my stash of allowance cash from the drawer of my desk. I seem to be round my room, and it feels like it’s for the closing time. On impulse, I snatch my iPod and charger off the desk along with the charger for my phone. I go back to my closet and shove all my garments into the suitcase, bras, panties, dresses, skirts, blouses, heels, sandals, all of it shoved into the Samsonite case until it’s overflowing and I have to take a seat on it to get it closed. I had deliberate to pack extra absolutely however for some cause I simply know. This is it. The end.

I take in the posters of a number of dancers on my walls, the Broadway playbills from the day trip to New York Mom and I went on for my candy sixteen…it all seems juvenile. The room of a child. A little girl. There’s even a shelf in one nook full of American Girl dolls from my childhood, all dressed neatly and sitting in a row.

One ultimate glance. My framed picture of Mom and me in Times Square goes in my purse. She looked so completely satisfied there, and so did I. That trip is what inspired my love of dance.

My dance bag is slung over my shoulder as I pull the suitcase down the stairs. The wheels thump from step to step until I’m on the landing. The the front door is before me and the closed French doors of Daddy’s learn about to my left. One of them swings open and Daddy fills the space, eyes red-rimmed, face haggard.

“Where are you going, Nelson?” His voice is hoarse.

“Nero Keres ’s. ” I keep up the acceptance letter for USC, the envelope with my room assignment, my new roommate’s information, check-in instructions. “And then L. A. I’m leaving for university subsequent week. ”

“No, you’re not. We’re a family. We need to stick together for the duration of this attempting time. ” He tries to step nearer to me, and I again away. “Your mom simply died, Nelson. You can’t depart now. ”

I huff a disbelieving laugh. “I be aware of she died. I used to be there! I watched—I watched her die. I have to go—I have to get out of here. I can’t stay here. I don’t belong here. ”

“Nelson, come on. You’re my daughter. I love you. Please…don’t go. ” His eyes are wet. Watching him cry hurts however doesn’t change the reality that I hate him.

“If you loved me so much, why’d you go away me on the side of the highway?” I understand it’s not fair, however I just don’t care.

“You refused to get in the car! What used to be I supposed to do? You punched me!” He slumps to the side against the closed door, resting his head on the wood. A tear slides down his cheek. “She was my wife, Nelson. I’ve been with her because I was once seventeen. I misplaced my wife. ”

I tip my head back, making an attempt not to cry again. “I know, Daddy. I know. ”

“So stay. Please stay. ”

“No. I…can’t. I just can’t. ” I hold the strap of my purple-patterned Vera Bradley purse in my fingers and twist.

“Why not?”

I shake my head. “I simply can’t. You don’t recognize me. You don’t know some thing about me. I recognize she was your wife, and I understand you’re hurting simply as tons as me. But…without her, I don’t be aware of what to do. She made this family work. Without her…we’re just two people who don’t understand every other. ”

He looks so confused. “But…Nelson…you’re my daughter. Of direction I understand you. ”

“Then why do I like to dance?”

He appears puzzled through the question. “Because you’re a girl. Girls like to dance. It’s just a phase. ”