I didn’t know how I felt about returning home, I just knew that LA had ate me up and spit me back out. Living in New York most of my life I was ready for the people, I was ready for the adventure, I just hadn’t been ready for the betrayal. Nobody ever really wants to move back home and I was no exception. In fact my parent’s didn’t even know I was on my way but I knew my room would be just as I had left it and that made me feel somewhat better.
My parent’s house had always seemed like a safe haven to me and that’s exactly what I needed right now. I needed to find myself and pull myself back together. I knew they wouldn’t mind me just popping up, they were never home much anyways. As soon as I had graduated they had began traveling a couple times a year. My brother Cody, last I had heard from my parents, was in and out of their house on what seemed to be a weekly basis. They never said it but I was pretty sure he was on drugs again.
Turning down our street I felt some of the weight lift off my shoulders. The sun was out shinning brightly giving me hope that this move home was for the best and all the negative things I had left in California would stay there. As I approached our house I frowned seeing my brother’s truck along with two cars . I knew there was a good chance he would make an appearance but I had hoped it would be later rather that sooner. I wasn't in the mood to deal with him today.
Parking in the grass on the far side of the carport I sat for a minute wondering how long I would actually have to stay here. My plan was to try to find a job in the city and move into an apartment there. I knew that it wouldn't be easy or cheap but at 22 I wasn’t trying to stay with my parents more than a few months.
Sighing I stepped out of my car and reached in the back to grab my duffle bag. I had left LA in a hurry and only packed what I could squeeze into the big blue bag. It had taken me forever to make the drive. I probably had drained my entire account but I was home. I was safe. Walking up the carport I swung my bag on my shoulder and hoped the door was unlocked because my keys were wedged in my hand inbetween the straps of the bags and my fingers.
The door gave way and I walked through our laundry room and into the kitchen. I stopped in my tracks as I saw my brother looking at me like I had grown three heads. The kitchen opened up to a huge den and he was sitting on the couch with four other guys in the room with him. They all looked kinda rough especially the one sitting closest to him, he had tattoos all over his arms and neck and I hated to admit but he was kinda hot.
“Taylor , what in the fuck are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here.” Cody said angrily as he kept looking at me crazy.
I rolled my eyes as I started walking toward my room, “I live here too jackass.”
As I walked past them I was all too aware of the eyes on me but I focused my gaze on the hallway. I needed to sit my bag down soon or my fingers might just tear apart from my hand. Once in my room I shut the door behind me and tried to forget all about the dark eyed tattooed stranger that had caught my attention. If he was friends with my brother that was a clear warning sign to stay the fuck away.