Chapter 6

It took forever for me to fall asleep. It shouldn't have really considering this was the first time in a long time I was sleeping in an actual bed. It was so nice and comfortable; warm. Yet, god was punishing me for laughing at my mother's distress. I was sweating and a sick feeling began to crawl over me. I needed the drugs. Not the ones that called me a psycho. The ones that numbed everything for me. Weed, pot, smoking, marijuana... oh god, I needed it badly last night. What I didn't realize was how stupid I was being at the moment. It wasn't just pot I needed. No, it was much more than that....

Now that it was no longer last night, it was much worse. I was shaking, my whole body having a reaction to not having the drugs in my system. And my body wasn't all that was affected. The stress, the worry, and guilt was over me again and I did not like it. I didn't like having those feelings. I wanted them gone and getting high could do that. I had to get those drugs.... I just hoped Mark would be willing to help me. I would understand if he didn't want to - since I technically stole from him. And if he couldn't help... well, that meant I would have to get to the next town that much sooner tonight. I was still determined to meet that town's drug dealer I was going to be heading to. It seemed like to long of a wait since it was still only morning.

Walking downstairs after I woke up, I smelled something I never imagined smelling (in this house anyway). Eggs. By now, I was on alert once that scent reached my brain. This doesn't happen. I am the only one that cooks and it was usually when Clare demanded it. I never woke to breakfast made.

Slowly walking downstairs, I walked through the living room that was still a little hard to get use to. There were a lot of changes to this place including who was living in it. Looking around and seeing nobody in the living room - which was where Clare usually is most of her time if I recall correctly - I then proceeded into the kitchen.

But as I stepped into the new kitchen, I froze, seeing Luke standing before the stove I figured they never used. I guess I was wrong. Standing over the pan of eggs he was scrambling, he flipped the eggs over and over with the spatula in his hand. His back to me, I was still able to see the small amount of smoke that rose from the frying pan towards the ceiling as he cooked the eggs.

I took in his form, curious. Because I was the only person to ever cook in this house - well, besides the people that once lived here before us I'm sure. But just watching someone else cook, and just someone in general cooking after a year of barely any cooking, made me fascinated. He was wearing a worn out green tee-shirt that hung off the shoulders in a way that looked too big. Too bad too because I wouldn't mind seeing him in a tighter shirt. He looked muscular. I wouldn't mind finding that out for sure though. He was also supporting a pair of comfortable looking blue jeans and as my eyes crawled down him, taking him in, and they lingered. He had a nice ass in those jeans.

"Where is Clare?" I asked, interrupting the crackling of the eggs on the stove. I wanted to know if I should be on guard or not this early in the morning. I felt myself shaking and I needed to go to Mark's place as quickly as I could. I just hope Luke goes to work soon because I figure that after last night, he wouldn't freely let me leave the house. He must suspect that I was interested in running away again from the struggle I put up with last night. But from how he was looking now, he didn't look ready for work yet. No uniform, just casual clothes. He didn't look much like an officer now; just a regular guy.

After I spoke, Luke turned around, seeing I was there and the one that asked the question. His eyes met mine. They were twice as tired as they were yesterday. His mouth was set in a line. He looked exhausted. I can only imagine why. He faced me now in a lazy stance.

"She is gone." He said, voice dead and tired, before turning his back to me again, continuing with the breakfast he was preparing. Moving the spatula in the eggs, he flipped over the still wet and slimy side of the eggs, the side cooked now up.

A smile spread over my face. I knew when he said 'gone' he meant she just wasn't here at the moment. But I couldn't help my next words. "So does that mean you were finally able to shut her up last night?" I said, referring to her loud sobbing that reached my ears for what seemed like hours after I went up to my room. "How did you do it? Did you beat her, shoot her, or just make her leave? I'm hoping you resorted to the second one. She really just needs to be gone for good."

He set the spatula down a little hard, flicked the stove off, and he turned with a scowl on his face, looking to my smirk. He looked ready to break in some fashion. Couldn't blame him with being married to Queen Bitch of Bitch City.

"You shouldn't speak of your mother that way. I understand that you believe she does those things to you but she doesn't."

I shook my head, smirk still present. He was clueless. "If you only knew, man." I said, walking to the big dining table and sitting down at the head of the table that was facing where he was standing by the stove. "So then where is she?"

"Work," he answered simply, not appearing that willing to explain any more than that but I guess that one word was enough. He turned to the cupboard, opening one of the small doors above where the microwave was. Luke grabbed a white plate with a red and gold design along the edge. Fancy, fancy. It just made me want to break it for some reason. We never had that fine-china-looking-shit like this. I knew she married for the money or at least that had to be some of the reason.

"She works still?" I asked. She had a job last time I was here and so did I. But that was when we were desperate for money, unlike now obviously. I figured she would have quit after seeing he must have made enough money to support them both.

"Yeah. The elementary school secretary."

I chuckled. That was her job last time so I guess she never did quit. What was always and still is funny to me is the fact that she is a secretary at a school. I always thought irony was just hilarious. To know she was working in a place where kids surrounded every corner.... As if she actually liked kids.

I watched as Luke held the plate in one hand, the spatula in his other as he scooped some eggs onto his plate. As he did that, I heard a noise - one in which I hadn't heard in a while - and it directed my eyes to something next to the stove. A toaster popped two slices of bread. He grabbed them, put the slices on his plate beside to his eggs and buttered them. With a glass of milk and silverware, he sat down next to me at the table.

I watched him as he took his first bite. I wanted to figure out what he was thinking. I couldn't imagine what because really, how would you process that I am his new stepdaughter, his wife lied and she was married before, and that I was insane? He seems calm but not well rested. He appeared incredibly stressed as well at the moment. But any idiot - even my mother - would be able to see that. I felt a slight sense of sorrow for the guy come through me but I overall didn't care. It was his own fault for marrying her and staying after what happened last night.

"If you are hungry, go make a plate," he said quietly, looking up from his food to me.

I shrugged before getting to my feet. Walking over to the stove, I grabbed a plate from the cupboard I just saw him grab his from. Making a plate of eggs, I scraped the rest of the eggs onto my plate, making it look like I was a pig considering I had more than twice as much as he did. But what can I say? I'm a growing girl. Not to mention I haven't eaten in what seemed like forever even though I just ate yesterday evening before walking through my old home town. I planned to dine later that night in the next town. Look are how well that worked out for me.

Getting a big glass of water and a fork, I then went to the refrigerator. Opening the door, I saw that the fridge was packed full of food. Heaven. I swear, I don't know how I stay so thin with all I eat. Even while on the streets, I managed well with food surprisingly.

Finding the ketchup, I grabbed it too and with the handful I had, I walked back over to my seat. I dropped the bottle of ketchup on the table along with my fork so I had my hands to set my plate down. The noise making a loud noise throughout the quiet kitchen, Luke jumped a bit, obviously not alert like I expected him to be for a cop. He had a right though. He was tired and went through a lot last night.

I sat down and I picked up the ketchup bottle from where I had dropped it, taking the cap off and squeezing the ketchup out over my eggs. After I did that and put the ketchup aside, I noticed Luke was staring at me, disgust all over his face at seeing I put ketchup all over my eggs and maybe because I just had a lot of eggs. He obviously had a lot to learn about me. I just couldn't give him the chance however, as I would be gone later and by tonight.

"Daddy, why are you staring me? Do you like what you see?" I smirked, knowing that wasn't why he was staring.

He ignored what I said. He must have just started getting use to my mouth to start ignoring it. I couldn't blame him. If people said the same things I say, and to me, they would get slapped. I hated sarcasm aimed at me yet I enjoyed giving it to people.

"Well, you just make yourself right at home, don't you?" He asked before he knew it.

Oh... you have got to be kidding me. "Yeah. This is my home, remember? It's been my home longer than it has been yours. So really, you are the one imposing," I said, my eyebrows lowering as I leaned forward slightly. Jesus... I could feel the urge to kick him from under the table.

He sighed as I picked up my fork, picking up a few eggs with it. "I'm sorry," he said. "You're right; it was your home f--"

"Damn man," I exclaimed in disgust, interrupting him. But hey, I had a right to interrupt. I just took a bite of the eggs and let me tell you, it tasted worse than shit. Not that I knew what that tasted like but you get what I mean. But I figured as much since I dropped my fork down and felt my scowl come on instinct.

"What?" He asked, eyes wide and looking for the problem.

"Dude, these eggs suck," I said, forcing the thing I found equivalent to horse shit down my throat. He was lucky I didn't spit it out on my plate. I decided to be polite. After I swallowed, I took a big swig of water from my glass after forcing the eggs down my stubborn throat. I knew it was too good to be true. Nobody but me could cook in this house. Well, at least he tried, right?

He gave me a look that suggested I was crazy (oh wait, I was). Eyeing my food, disgusted, he looked back up to my eyes. He looked kind of amused actually under the disgust. But he didn't chuckle. He was too tired and exhausted and still upset with Clare. That last part was a good thing though!

"No wonder," he said. "It's because you just drowned it in ketchup. It's disgusting."

"Or maybe you just can't make eggs or cook in general. Don't blame the poor ketchup when it's the eggs that are at fault."

He stared at me, as if unsure I was serious. He sighed, shaking his head, finally figuring out that I was just that way - and that he better get use to it for the next few hours until I'm gone.

I yawned, maybe just as tired as he was. I didn't sleep much last night and that yawn reminded me why. I was really surprised at how I was feeling now though. I was still slightly shaking but talking to him and having breakfast was maybe distracting me from my need. Of course, even if my mind is off it, I'll still continue to have this reaction. But as of now for some reason, it wasn't as bad as it was last night.

I got up, not willing to eat these eggs. If you tried them, you would understand. Walking to the trash bin besides the fridge, I dumped my big plateful of eggs in the trash. What a waste. It wasn't my fault they tasted terrible.

"Do you guys have any cereal?" I asked.

He groaned, eating his eggs, the sound of the fork scratching against the plate. "Yeah, it's in the cupboard above the microwave," he answered.

Placing my plate in the sink, I went to the microwave and reached high above it, grasping the handle and opened the cupboard. I grabbed a box of cereal. Cheerios. And that was the only box of cereal. Fucking figures.

With a sigh, I placed the bowl on the counter before opening the half full box. Pouring the cereal in the bowl, each piece a chime against the glass bowl when hitting it, I then got the milk and poured it in. "When are you leaving for work?" I asked as I walked back to the table. I sat back down with a groan. Never thought breakfast would be so difficult especially when I wasn't on the streets at the moment. With my life, of course it was. I started to eat the boring cereal as I waited for an answer.

"Why so anxious for me to leave, huh?" he asked, looking to me, a knowing look in his eye. One saying he knew why I wanted him gone. Maybe he was more alert this morning than I thought he was at first.

"I'm not," I said, my lips turning up in a smile. "In fact, I want you to stay. I want to have fun with my new daddy."

He rolled his eyes yet looked disgusted too at that, even though he knew it was a joke. Putting his fork down, his eggs mostly gone anyway, he sat forward, resting his muscular arms on the table as he looked hard in my eyes.

"I took the day off today to keep an eye on you," he sighed. "Plus, I'm just so exhausted and need a break." Under his breath, he just mumbled, "From everything."

I scoffed. "Is that what Clare wanted?" I highly doubted she would want him to keep an eye on me. Actually, my guess was that she wanted me to runaway again. Why not? She hated that I was here, ruining what she had with her husband. She wants me gone so she wouldn't stop me if I ran. Yet, he was here.

I smirked, knowing the answer before he said it. Taking a deep breath, Luke hesitantly told me, "I... haven't spoke to her since last night. I stayed out on the porch all night, just thinking."

"Explains why you look like shit," I said. "Poor Clare. I must have cost her a night of sex. I mean, that must be the only reason she married you. No offense. You seem like a good guy. But Clare is with you for the money or good sex. I think you are capable of giving her both those things."

He scowled, shaking his head. "You are just so disgusting." He said, really appalled. He wasn't use to me yet, obviously. "You don't care about anything."

I grinned. "I get it from my mother."

He groaned, closing his eyes. I did feel somewhat bad. I really did. He didn't deserve this but he had it coming to be honest. Like I just said: he was the one that chose to marry her and stay with her now.

"You and I need to get something straight," he said. "No matter how weird this is - for you or I - you are my stepdaughter. And I am your stepfather and though that is really hard to accept, I want to have some form of a relationship with you. Even just as friends," he said, smiling just slightly. I admit, he had a really nice smile.

Too bad for him though because I was gone by tonight. I slipped the spoon in my mouth once more of the Cheerios, chewing them as I thought over his words. But I knew there was no thinking since I already had a plan. Swallowing, I said back, "Let's just put it all out on the table: the truth is you don't like me. You don't and don't want to try and neither do I. So lets just not bother," I said, knowing it would just be a waste of time since I was going to be gone by tonight.

"I do care," he said, a note in his voice saying he meant it. And I knew he did. Last night in the parking lot of the station, before he found out I was Clare's daughter, he said he cared. It was because he was just a nice guy - he was a cop after all. "It's just a little hard to accept all this. But I will try and I hope you will."

"Look," I groaned. "We can't be friends and we are not a family. I wont trust you or get close to you in any way. Sorry, because I know how awesome you think I am and how much you want to know me," I smirked. "But it's not going to happen. Not when you don't even believe me or trust me; not when you think I'm insane like the rest of the world." If I was staying, that would be a real reason too. How could he expect him and I to be friends when at the end of the day, he thinks I'm crazy and he wont trust my word or even consider it?

"I don't think you understand," he said sharply, getting my attention. "I don't think you are insane and you would know that if you listened to what I have been saying to you--"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard. 'You are just confused' is what you mean," I said, mad. "Like that's any different," I said in a mumble.

He sighed. He seemed to do that a lot. But then, something caught his concentration. His eyes slightly widened and he looked down my body - or rather what he could see that wasn't hidden by the table. His eyes moving down to my arms, my chest, up my neck and face. That's when I realized what it was that caught his eyes.

Luke saw I was shaking. But it was more than that. When I looked down, I saw it was worse than before. I was somewhat shocked that I was shaking to this extent since I didn't feel much worse - or maybe I was just ignoring it. Not to mention, I looked pale as well yet I felt hot at the moment. Actually, I've felt hot all morning.

Looking back up at him, his eyes still roamed over me. I tried hard to quit the shaking because as he was looking at me, I felt somewhat... self-conscious? I wasn't sure especially because that was what it felt like but I never really cared about what people thought of me or my looks. Yet, his eyes going over me made me nervous in a way. I kept it off my face and my mind as I watched him observe me.

"I'll be right back," he said quickly before he got up and left the kitchen, leaving me sitting there confused.

I smirked as something came to my mind in the midst of it all. Can't help but be a pervert. "Hey," I yelled to him as he left, hoping he could hear me whatever he was doing. Referring the the way he was looking at me and now that he just ran out of the kitchen for some reason, I said, "If you're going to get a condom, you can forget it, pal. You pissed me off and I'm not longer in the mood," I said, also referring to the fact that we were just talking about how I was only 'confused' and not insane. Making that 'mood' fade. Ha.

Shrugging his strange action off of leaving that quickly, I went back to my cereal. But I really couldn't. It was hard when my hand was shaking so violently now along with my body. Putting the spoon of shit Cheerios down in the bowl, I slid the bowl away to give me space to rest my head on the table.

Gently resting my head against the table, I heard someone come back swiftly into the room. "Albany?" He asked, his voice coming closer.

"I guess I wouldn't mind if we had sex no matter how pissed off you made me. Just give me a minute," I said, still joking despite how sick I was starting to feel again.