Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Jess’s expression is stricken, and instantly, I feel bad.
“Look, I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I just don’t want to talk about it, okay? At least, not today. It’s a tough issue and I’m exhausted.”
My friend nods with understanding.
“Of course, I totally get it,” she says sympathetically. “I’ve met your dad before, and he’s not easy to deal with. Take your time, Annie. You know I’m here for you.”
I nod and pretend to go back to eating my bagel while Jessica goes back to blabbing on about prom, of all things. But all I can feel is my shock at the news report.
On the one hand, I shouldn’t be shocked because I’ve always known that Bruce and Burke are criminals. They were in my room with the intent of robbing my family blind, so it’s not like it was a secret. But on the other hand, I’m shocked because seeing their faces on the news like that makes it so real. Suddenly, I can’t hide from the hard truth anymore. I’ve been engaging in a dirty relationship with two men who belong in jail, and who just stole from our downstairs neighbor.
What am I thinking? How can this be happening? Clearly, they didn’t steal from us because of me. Instead, they moved onto to our neighbor, and robbed poor Mr. Gephardt blind. Ugh. I hope he has insurance.
The rest of the day goes by in a blur. As my teachers drone on, I think about how Bruce and Burke are considered dangerous criminals by law enforcement. And yet, I’m having secret sex with them. Filthy, hot, delicious animal sex. Oh God, if only people knew! The secret fills me trepidation and arousal. These huge, strong, rock hard criminals could have hurt me in so many ways by this point, yet instead, they’ve given me nothing but pleasure and a feeling of acceptance and belonging. The thought fills me with warmth and an unbearable urge to see them again.
The feeling carries me over all day until dinner, when I have no choice but to join my parents at the dining table. I eat with my usual gusto, ignoring my dad as he focuses on some documents. Chewing my risotto, I glance over at my mother, who hasn’t touched hers yet. I’m used to my mother’s lack of appetite, but today, Marisa looks paler than she usually does. I try to catch her eye, but she’s downcast as she stares at something on the tablecloth.
“Annabel!” barks my father suddenly, making me jump. “Stop staring at your mother’s food. Isn’t your own portion enough?” With a sinking feeling, I put my fork down. His casual yet cruel remarks about my appetite and my body shape have always managed to shame me. Especially because my mother never sticks up for me. But I don’t blame her, not anymore. What can one simple woman do against a man filled with so much hate? Toward his own family, at that?
“And you, Marisa,” he directs at my mother. “You better have a few bites; you’re starting to look like a corpse.” My mother barely reacts. Her eyes blink slowly, and she picks up her fork like a zombie. I feel terrible for her. I’m filled with a sudden sense of outrage. What kind of a family is this? What kind of a man would speak to his wife and daughter like this? Shaming them at the dinner table, with never a kind word.
“And why do you think that is, Father?” I suddenly hear myself throw at him before I can stop myself. My voice is quiet and shaky, but direct. Roger glares at me with venom. From across the table, I can see my mother staring at me in surprise, and to be frank, I’m filled with surprise, too. I’ve never stood up to him like this before, but now that I’ve opened this can of worms, I can’t back down. I’m going to have to see this one through.
“Why do you think Mother is so thin, Father? Why do you think she never eats a bite?” I continue, my heart hammering in my chest.
“Annie—” Marisa starts feebly, but she’s interrupted by my father’s hand, raised toward her in a “stop” gesture without taking his eyes off of me.
“No, Marisa,” he spits. “Let’s hear what she’s got to say. This should be good.”
“That’s right, Father,” I say, trying to sound confident, but I’m trembling. “Normally, I’m just silent, aren’t I? I just take whatever insults you lob at me. All we ever try to do is please you, but neither of us are good enough. No matter what we do, you always find some way to put us down.”
Holy shit, what am I doing? But it’s too late. My father is staring at me with venom in his eyes, the veins in his forehead throbbing. My mother is staring at me with a mixture of surprise and horror.