Page 104 of Loving Taylor
"You read the file." I watched for any reaction to my words but it was difficult to tell what she felt. Her usual open features were closed off from me.
She bit her lip and nodded. She wasn't angry but I wasn't sure that was enough to convince me I still had a chance.
"There wasn't a lot in that file that my imagination hadn't already conjured up. I know which part you were scared I would find out about."
The truth was out in the open for judgment.
"Dealing drugs," I said out loud, feeling resigned to the fact that no matter what I did, it would always be a black mark against me.
To most people it would be forgivable but to someone whose parents had been murdered by two guys who had been high on drugs might be a struggle to forgive and forget.
She nodded. Then she studied me.
"Why?" she asked.
Would the reasons behind my decision to sell drugs make it easier to forgive me? Even if it didn't, she deserved the whole truth and not just parts of it she had read in a background file on me.
Not feeling proud, I dropped my gaze to the floor.
"I've told you about some of my crappy childhood," I said, lifting my eyes back to hers.
I hated looking back or talking about what had happened but I had to do it. If I wanted to be with her, she had to understand why.
"While my mom was drowning her sorrows with an endless supply of alcohol, I was left to fend for myself." She frowned, like she couldn't fit the type of mother I'd had with the mother she had lost so early in life.
In the luck of the draw I had lost. But in the long run Taylor had lost more. She had grown up without the mother who loved her.
"Slater was pretty much in the same situation I was. His father was a drug addict and his mom could barely make ends meet. Whatever money his mom made went to pay for the drugs his father needed."
She watched me with sad eyes, reminding me of how different our childhoods had been.
"We got involved with a gang."
I quieted for a moment. To open up about things I had kept so close wasn't easy. It was going against everything I had promised myself. I’d thought if I was a good guy now, my past wouldn't matter. But I had been naive and now I was getting a dose of reality that it would haunt my future no matter what.
"There were no options. We did what we had to, to survive," I added.
"I'm sorry you had to grow up like that," she said softly.
"I'm sorry too." I held her gaze while my tongue flicked against the circular metal embedded in my lip. It was a small, nervous act that gave me some comfort.
"We didn't enjoy doing any of the things that were expected of us," I explained, needing her to know that if there had been another option or if we hadn't been in a hopeless situation it wouldn't have happened. "But there was no walking away from it—we needed the money."
"Are you still working for this gang?" she asked, surprising me.
I couldn't help wondering if she had asked that question because of Jeff.
"No." I shook my head and she looked relieved. That was a good sign. I was starting to feel hopeful.
Maybe, just maybe, she would choose me.
"Connor said Jeff worked for you?" Her question confirmed my initial assumption.
She yawned. I wasn't the only one who had been missing out on sleep.
"You're tired. Why don't you sit down?"
She sat down on the bottom of my bed. I pulled the nearby chair that I used by my desk to sit down in front of her.
