Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Shopping.
How bad could it be?
On edge from yesterday’s drug test, I jump when I hear the front door open.
Three guesses to who it could be.
Nikki, Dave, or Twitch.
Seeing as I spoke to the first two and know they’re both busy tonight, by process of elimination, I go with option three.
And boy, are we gonna have words today.
Soon as I see him back through the front door, I start with, “You’ve got some nerv—”
Stopping mid-sentence, my mouth gapes. Dragging bags, bags, and more bags behind him, he kicks the door shut, then says, “Could use a little help here, Angel.”
The way he calls me Angel...he should not be allowed to call me Angel.
I breathe, “Okay.”
Standing in my sweats, tank, ratty hair, and reading glasses, I walk over to his tall suit-covered frame and take some of the bags from him. He takes off down the hall toward my bedroom and places the bags on the floor. Placing my haul of bags on the floor next to his, I watch as he starts turning the bags upside down.
Clothes, accessories, and shoe boxes fall out onto my bed.
And I’m just standing here thinking, “Um…aren’t we pissed at each other?”
I whisper, “What is all this?”
Not answering my question, he tirades, “Did you know there’s a lady at the mall that you can hire to shop for you? All she needs is measurements and bam, she’s off. Like a fuckin’ machine. You tell her to spare no cost and she spares no cost.” He looks back over his shoulder at me with a knowing look, “Know what I mean?”
Mouth still gaping, I manage an, “Uhh…”
He points to random things on my bed. “Evening wear. Evening shoes. Work wear. Work shoes. Some dresses and everyday clothes. Necklaces and frilly shit. Hair stuff.” He grins, “And there are your delicates.”
Delicates?
Looking up at him with a frown, I lean over and peer into the bag he just pointed to. Picking up a lacey see-through teddy, I squeak, “Lingerie.”
Shaking my head, I ask angrily, “What are you doing here? I haven’t heard from you in a week. You know? When you left me in your bed to recover from a virus and never even called to check up on me?”
Twitch doesn’t flinch. “May not have called, but I knew you were fine. I always know. Just like I knew you needed help with your mandatory drug test, little one.”
I bark back, “You didn’t think I wanted to see you? That maybe I needed yo—” I cut myself off. I won’t let him know how much I needed him then. How much it broke my heart that he could cut me out as if I were just another woman.
He stills, then turns to me. “Needed what?”
“I’d like for you to leave.”
His eyes darken a shade. “Not before I get what I came for.”
My voice drops marginally, “Wh-what did you come for?”
Slowly walking towards me with a purpose, I know exactly what he’s going to say before he says it.
“What you owe me.”
I sit on the edge of the bed, holding my head in my hands, elbows to my knees.
Lightly rocking on the balls of my feet, I argue with myself.
The fuck are you doing? Enough. This has to stop.
The CD player on the dresser plays softly. One More Night by Maroon 5 plays.
“There you go again makin’ me love you.”
“You stuck on my body, on my body like a tattoo.”
My light rocking becomes harsher and harsher, bordering violent. My jaw sets and I squeeze my eyes shut tight. My face contorts with hate and anger. The hands at my head fist tightly. Gritting my teeth, I smack them hard into my brows.
Rage coils low in my gut.
Standing suddenly, I walk over to the dresser and pick up the CD player, yanking the cord out of the wall. Walking with a purpose over to the open window, I throw the CD player out as hard as I can and shut the window.
A muffled crash sounds.
I take it in.
Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply and wait patiently for my heart rate to return to normal.
Turning, I look over to the bed where she sleeps.
Only her bright blue eyes are open. And she saw what I just did.
I’m not used to people being around when I get angry.
She lies on her stomach, her naked back looking pale in the moonlight. The sheet rests low on her back, barely covering her sweet ass. She looks at me without judgement or anger.
And for a second, I’m taken back to a time long forgotten. A time when life was good.
Running a hand through my hair, I sigh and move over to the bed. Sitting next to her, I move her dark hair off her shoulder. I run my fingertips gently from her shoulder, down to her elbow, and back up.