More than Enough (Book Two in the Enough Series)

2

B: We still on for tonight? 7 work?

I scrolled through my phone, all the messages I'd been ignoring or just hadn't had the time to get to. Checked out some social media posts, made a few random posts myself, and then flung the phone over on the bed. When I woke up from my short nap, I found that I still hadn't received a response from Gemma. I had a gut feeling she gave me the wrong number, but that wasn't going to stop me.

By the time I showered and dressed, making sure to look my best with black ripped jeans and a white button-down shirt, I still hadn't heard from her. I paced my room for a few minutes trying to decide my plan of action.

'Fuck it,' I grumbled and hit her contact to call her instead.

"Hello?" A man answered. I instantly felt a surge of jealousy I'd never felt before. "Hello?" His words sounded slurred.

"I'm looking for Gemma. Do I have the right number?" I barked out, annoyed with this game she was trying to play.

"Thissss her phone. She's not able right now." Who the fuck was this man? She wasn't able? Alarm bells started going off in my head, and I was no longer jealous but panicked.

"Where are you?" I demanded, hoping he'd give me something. "Who are you?"

"Vernon." He grumbled I could hear rustling around, and it sounded like he may have even dropped the phone. Vernon? I had my keys and was halfway to the parking garage, doing my best to stay calm.

"Is Gemma in trouble?" I asked, having no clue what kind of situation I was dealing with. Vernon began laughing hysterically, almost maniacally, unnerving me further as I started the engine and began heading out to where I wasn't sure. "Can you tell me how to get to you? She forgot to give me the address." I lied.

"3519 Mulberry Street." He spat out. I was questioning the truth of the address as I hurriedly punched it into my GPS. It looked to be just outside of the city, an older part of town. I was about to reply to him when I heard what sounded like Gemma crying out "No" before the line disconnected. I slung my phone to the passenger seat and pushed the pedal to the floor to get to her.

When I finally pulled up in front of the house, my gut churned. It wasn't horrible, but it certainly wasn't the best, either. An older, ran-down home that was clearly in need of renovation. I hopped out and hurried to the door and, without hesitation, began pounding on it.

"Gemma!! Gemma!!" I bellowed. I could hear movement inside, and I debated on trying to kick the door in. I was going full caveman crazy, but the train was moving, and there was no stopping it. I went to pound again just as the door pulled open, and there stood Gemma looking fresh out of the shower in a pink bathrobe. "You're okay?" I spoke, partly a question to her and to myself.

"Are you serious?! You hunted me down! Are you some kind of stalker?!" She screeched.

"I didn't hunt you down! I'm not stalking you! I thought..."

"You thought since I didn't call or text you right away like some of these other chicks that I was blowing you off, and you had to come to find me! Who told you where I lived? How the fuck did you find me?" She was going full blast. My brain was trying to catch up and figure out just what had gone on.

"No." I whispered, watching her as she continued to rant. I finally had enough of the confusion and pushed my way inside.

"Bennett!!" She smacked at my arm.

"What's going on?! I thought you were in danger."

"In danger?!" She looked at me, confused.

"Yes. I called you, and some guy answered. He didn't sound right, and he said you weren't able to talk. He didn't sound... I just thought... Fuck." I ran my hand down over my face, feeling like the biggest idiot.

"Oh. My. God." Her eyes went wide, and her face paled.

"I'm sorry. I fucked up." I grumbled, glancing around the house. It was messy and wreaked of alcohol.

"No, you didn't." She spoke softly, looking guilty and embarrassed. "Come in; I'm sorry. Jesus." She mumbled, leading me into the living area before I could get closer to the sofa, she grabbed my arm, pulling me with her down the small hall. "Come with me."

This night was becoming more bizarre by the minute. I first thought Gemma was in some kind of danger, barged into what I assumed to be her home, and now she was escorting me down a hall and into her bedroom. She nudged me toward her bed, closing and locking the door behind her.

"I'm really fucking confused." I blurted.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just... this is difficult." She whispered. I raised a brow at her, waiting for more explanation. Before she could speak, someone began pounding on her bedroom door.

"Gemma, what is..." I stood up just as she pulled the door open, and a disheveled older man appeared, a disheveled older man who looked similar to Gemma. It was starting to come together that maybe this was her father? Perhaps she was caring for her sick father?

"No boys in your room with the door closed." He slurred in the same voice I had heard on the phone earlier.

"Bennett, this is my Father. Dad, this is my friend Bennett. I think you two have spoken." Gemma spoke softly with a sound of defeat in her voice. "Did you get my phone earlier?" She growled.

"I said no boys!" He raised a finger with a sad smile on his face.

"Come on; you should go lay down." Gemma went to touch his arm, and before I could even blink, he brought his hand up and slapped her across the face. Without even thinking, I was up and shoving him against the wall, holding him by his shirt. He wasn't resisting, just laughing. I had to wonder if he was insane, but after getting so close to him, I realized he was drunk.

"Bennett, No!" She cried out.

"What is going on here?!"

"Let him go, just let him go and go to his room, and I'll explain." She held her cheek, which had to be stinging, as I did what she asked. The man, Vernon, stumbled away from me and continued on his way down the hall and out of sight, leaving me baffled beyond belief.

"Gemma, I.."

"I don't want to hear it. I don't want pity or any of that shit, okay?" She snapped. Having moved her hand, I could see the redness of her cheek, and I couldn't resist the urge to reach up and stroke my fingers softly against her.

"I just need an explanation, please. I'm so fucking confused right now." I spoke softly, looking into her green eyes.

"That's my Father, Vernon. He's an alcoholic."