Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 99766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“You have a lot of fire in your eyes for someone who claims to be a good girl. What exactly do you get up to with my fucking daughter while I’m gone?”
Not his daughter.
Not his daughter.
I hate this asshole.
“I need the money,” I lie. “It’s good, easy money. We play and then I do my homework. I don’t get up to anything while you’re gone.”
“Lacey lied a lot,” he growls. “She got punished a lot too.”
“Where is she?” I demand, needing answers already.
“I told you. Florida.” He curls his lip up. “With her mother.”
“Zella needs her mother,” I tell him. “You should let her see her.”
He releases my hoodie but remains close, glowering at me. “Zella put you up to this?”
Hell no.
He is not about to punish that girl for this.
“No,” I snap. “She hardly ever says anything, which is why I came to my own conclusion she’s missing her mother.”
He turns his head, staring down the hallway like he’s considering going after her with his belt. I try and distract him with words.
“I need to get paid so I can leave. Dad will be worried.”
His gaze is back on mine. “The money isn’t that good, Penelope. Why do you stay here to watch Zella? Most of the sitters can only handle one or two visits. It’s almost as though you want to be here.” He touches my cheek, making me flinch. “What is it, sweetheart? You have a crush on an older man? It’s naughty to use a child to seek the affections of her father.”
Is this fucker serious right now?
“Ew,” I grind out. “I need money, not a sugar daddy.”
He barks out a laugh. “Maybe you could have both.”
“Gross.”
“There,” he says. “Finally, the truth comes out. You’re not in it hoping you get some dick, so there are other reasons.”
“Money,” I spit out. “I just want the money.”
He studies me for a long time before he fishes out his wallet. Pulling out some twenties, he folds them and then leans forward, sliding them into the back pocket of my jeans. My blood runs cold at his touch. When he grabs my ass, I yelp.
“If you ever want more money, just ask. I haven’t been laid in fucking forever. I’d hand over my entire goddamn paycheck to get you in my bed, sweetheart. Just how bad do you want money?”
I’d rather throw myself in front of a moving train than willingly ever climb into bed with such a creep.
“I’m seventeen,” I spit out at him. “You’re like forty-five.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” he says with a dark laugh. “Like I said, it’s been ages since I got my dick wet. And trust me, a teenage pussy isn’t the worst place for that to happen. Just let me know how much and I’ll make it happen.”
“I’ll think about it,” I lie, sidestepping his drunk ass and snagging up my bag. “I might be willing to negotiate.”
He boldly rubs his dick over his jeans. “Is that so?”
“Let Zella call her mom and talk to her.”
“Go home, Penelope. I’m fucking tired.”
Not needing to be told twice, I bolt. He’s drunk as hell and probably won’t remember this conversation. I, however, can’t erase the sick feeling roiling through me.
I’m in a daze the whole way home, through my shower, and as I crawl into my bed.
I need…
I need…
My hand shakes as I pick up my phone and text Terrence.
Me: Start talking, Smash.
Smash: Is this you letting me in?
Me: Not sure why you’d want inside, but yes. It’s terrible and dark and lonely. I can barely stand to be here myself.
Smash: Which is exactly why you need to let me in. Talk to me, Penny.
Me: I’m scared.
Smash: Of what…those guys bothering you again?
If only it were that simple.
Me: Bigger stuff.
Smash: Did someone hurt you?
Yes.
No.
Me: More like scared me.
Smash: Who do I need to kill?
Jack Henderson. I choke on a sob.
Me: It doesn’t matter.
Smash: It does to me.
Me: You like me, Terrence, but you don’t know me. If you did, you wouldn’t like me.
Smash: Try me. Let me know you.
Me: I hate sounds. Especially repetitive ones. Some days, I nearly lose my mind from it.
Smash: I’m still here.
Me: I can’t stand the idea of people touching me.
Smash: I came to both these conclusions on my own, you know. This isn’t a new revelation to me. I’m still here.
He is.
He shouldn’t be, but he is.
I’m selfish in this moment because I’d rather deny sweet little Zella the opportunity to have a loving mother and father—a complete family—because I want her dad all to myself.
Me: I’m difficult to love.
Smash: You can repeat the lies you tell yourself all you want, Penny, but I sure as fuck can’t hear them.
Me: Stop talking.
Smash: Only because you asked sweetly.
Me: Good night, Smash.
Smash: Night, Zero. We’ll continue our talk soon.
Terrence
Dread.
It consumes me as I stare through the glass of Cal’s windshield.