Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Rodney takes two steps away and nearly trips over the carpet. He catches himself, his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide with terror, and this should feel good. I should feel better.
All I feel is empty and sad.
“You’re all fucked up,” he whispers.
What I think he means is, I’m sick and broken.
He turns and walks away, stumbling as he goes. Once he’s gone, I feel deflated and exhausted. I barely make it back to the door, then Angelo’s there, and he’s pulling me into his arms. He hugs me tight, breathes my smell deep, and his arms feel so good that I forget all about our fight and let myself sink into him.
“You okay?” he asks, and I shake my head. I’m crying, damn it, I’m crying and I hate that Rodney can still make me cry like this. That bastard, that sick, abusive piece of shit.
“Just hug me for a while, okay? Then I’ll tell you about my uncle, but just hug me right now.”
“Alright, baby, whatever you need.”
Chapter 27
Claudia
We sleep together that night. There’s no sex, only two bodies in the darkness, his warmth and his smell. His lips on my neck, his breath on my skin. He’s still there when I wake up, and maybe I’m still emotional from the night before, but I can’t help myself.
I kiss him and stroke his dick, and I’m not surprised to find he’s already half-hard. He groans, coming awake, and he wraps me in a kiss, dragging me on top of him.
We have sex in the early morning light. I ride him slowly at first, luxuriating in the feel of him between my legs, his hands all over my breasts, his mouth on my skin, his adoring eyes drinking me in. Then I ride him faster, and faster, until I come like my spine’s going to break into crumbly pieces, but he’s not finished with me. He’s gentle at first, until it feels like I’m going to explode again, then he’s filling me with hard, deep strokes, and we both orgasm in a beautiful, sweaty mess.
He wraps his arms around me and holds me tight against him. “Good morning to you too,” he whispers.
I laugh as all the tension escapes me. “I guess I couldn’t help myself.”
“I’m not complaining. I can’t picture a better way to start the day.”
I chew on my lip. “Sorry about last night.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“That guy—”
He stops me and adjusts himself so he’s looking into my eyes. “You don’t have to tell me. You don’t owe me that.”
“I know, but I want to.” I lean forward, kiss him softly, and tell him the story of Uncle Rodney.
How my parents were both dead and Rodney was the only family we had in the area. He took in two scared, sad little girls, and he took care of them. Even though he never wanted kids and wasn’t equipped to be a caretaker, much less a father and a role model, he did it anyway. He stepped up, for a while at least.
Then the abuse started. The verbal insults, the anger, the drinking. I allude to what Serena told me, but I don’t outright say it—that’s her trauma to share or hide, and she gets to choose who finds out about it. But I make sure Angelo understands what Rodney is.
“You never should’ve gone through that,” he says. “I wish I had done more than just hit the piece of shit.”
“The sickest part is I’ve been giving Rodney money for the last couple years. I feel like I owe him, you know? I mean, he was awful, but he still put food on the table and clothes on our backs and made sure we got to school.”
“Just because he did the bare minimum doesn’t mean he deserves your pity or whatever the fuck you feel. That guy’s a piece of shit.”
“I sort of told him who you are.” I give Angelo a sheepish smile. “I used your name and told him you’d kill him if he ever came back. I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have, but—”
He holds up a hand and kisses me. “Baby, feel free to threaten anyone with my name any time you like. And I really will kill him if he comes back.”
I hesitate, not sure if he’s joking, but Angelo’s eyes are cold iron and he’s not smiling. “I’m not sure—”
“You won’t know about it. His body won’t ever be found. But I’ll make sure he goes away.”
My heart beats faster and sweat prickles down my back. “Sometimes I forget who you are. What your family is. When we’re in bed like this—” I stop talking, feeling stupid.
But his smile comes back and his sleepy kisses are like heaven. “I don’t want you thinking about that when we’re together. I want you feeling good when I’m in your bed.”