Текст книги "Raw"

Автор книги: Belle Aurora

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Reaching for my shot, I down it in one. I’m not a big drinker, but Nikki, Dave, and I have had some doozies together. I remember all those times as fun. I suddenly wonder why this time doesn’t feel so fun to me.

“Here I am, enjoying a night in with one of my girls…”

Without thinking, I reach for the next shot and attempt to drown out the man who poisons my usually-clear-thinking mind.

Catching a taxi at this time of night to a bar to drink myself stupid seemed like a good idea at the time.

But like my mama always said:

Nothing good happens after two a.m.

Using the GPS tracking system I installed on Lexi’s phone, I’m surprised to find her at a sleazy bar I used to attend frequently in the city at this time of night. That is, until I realize the reason I used to frequent this bar was because Lexi would come here with her friends.

It’s so easy to keep an eye on someone when they’re by your side most of the time. I haven’t needed to watch Lexi much anymore. Besides, Lexi up-close beats far-away Lexi any day of the week.

Sitting at the bar, looking at the empty shot glasses in front of her, she cloaks her emotions as she seems to speak robotically to the man next to her. I pull in my anger at the sight of the man placing his hand on her arm, and make my way over until I’m standing behind her.

“Stand up, Lexi. We’re going,” I tell her, as I curl my fingers around her wrist.

Looking up, her face betrays her hurt. Struggling to get out of my grip, she slurs, “No. I’m not going with you. I’m staying here. Staying with—” She drifts off before looking at the man with pleading eyes. He chuckles, “Brad.” She announces, “Staying with Brad!”

Tightening my grip on her, I put my lips to her ear, “You’re not staying. You’re coming home.”

You’re coming home? I meant to say ‘to my place’. That’s… I don’t even want to analyze that right now. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.

Snatching her wrist out of my hand, her eyes void and her voice becomes bleak. “Don’t want to go with you. You’re poison.”

My chest pangs.

Well shit. That fuckin’ stings. Like a bitch.

It’s not a lie, but it stings still.

I’ve never begged before. Never in my life. I sure as fuck am not gonna start now. Playing it cool, I chuckle. “Babe, what do you think you’re doing here anyways? This place…it’s not for the likes of you.”

What I don’t say is ‘You’re too good to be in a place like this. A place like this pulls at your good and dulls your sparkle. And I like your sparkle.’

Staring down at my chest, she takes a step closer to me and whispers miserably, “I’m here to let Brad fuck me.” My cheek ticks and my head implodes. She steps closer to me to add, “He’s going to fuck me. Fuck me ‘til I forget you. ‘Til I forget I ever met you. He’s helping me drown you out, and I like when I’m not thinkin’ about you.” She looks into my eyes and repeats on a whisper, “You’re poison.”

I’ve officially had enough of this conversation.

Taking her elbow, I pull her towards me, when Brad the asshole stands and starts, “Hey! Let go of her! She doesn’t want to go with you. You heard—”

Reaching into the back of my jeans, I pull out my .32 semi and point it right in the middle of his brows. Stepping away so quickly with his arms raised, he stumbles backward into a stool.

But I can’t walk away yet. His humiliation is something I need right now. I need him to learn. What, exactly? I’m not sure. But I want to see his fear.

Lexi pulls on my elbow and quietly says a defeated, “Okay, Twitch. You win. I’ll go with you. Leave him alone and we’ll leave, babe. Just me and you.”

It’s my turn to snatch my elbow from her alcohol-weakened grip. Taking two large steps, I push the barrel of the pistol into his forehead, hard. Listening to him whimper brings me a rush. Warmth spreads through me. Leaning closer to him, I grit my teeth and say quietly, “You got something to say to me, wise guy? Fuckin’ say it.”

Brad starts to shake, and I can feel eyes on me. Most likely from everyone in the bar. Lucky, I know the bartender. Well. Jimmy and I had business dealings. I know he knows I’m doing what I think I have to.

I give Brad a full thirty seconds to answer before I whisper, “Yeah, I thought so,” and move away from him. Placing the Colt back in my waistband, I move to stand by Lexi, wrap my arm around her shoulders, and tuck her into my side. Her hand slides up to the middle of my chest, and she fists my shirt. “Let’s go, babe. Let’s go,” she whispers.

Lifting my finger, I point hard at the quivering mess that is Brad and announce loudly, “No one plays with my things. No one touches what’s mine. This…” Sliding my hand down to Lexi’s ass, I make a show of cupping it and squeezing. Hard. “…this is mine. Got it?”

Brad – still with his hands raised in surrender – nods vigorously, and I know I’ve made my point.

To Brad. And to Lexi.

It’s selfish to keep her around when I know she wants time alone. I know it is. But I can’t let her go.

You need her.

I don’t need anyone. I’m just selfish.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

 “You left.”

Driving Lexi back to her place, I know we have to talk about what happened. This whole having a girlfriend thing blows so far. I repeat myself, “You left after you said you wouldn’t.”

Looking out of the window, she mutters miserably, “Yeah, well, I figured if you couldn’t keep your promise, then I shouldn’t have to keep mine either.”

It’s times like this that I wish my brain worked like everyone else’s.

Breathing deeply, I try in vain to calm my racing heart. “I’m not… It’s not like… I didn’t mean it, Angel. I swear. There is no one else. Just you.”

I wait patiently, but she doesn’t respond. Why did I think I would say what I had to say and she would just jump into my open arms cooing, ‘I’m yours!’?

Stupid movies and their completely inaccurate argument scenes.

Reaching over to hold her hand, I’m surprised that she lets me. Linking our fingers, I pull her hand onto my thigh and try again. “I’m not used to having one woman, Lex.” She scoffs and I cringe, knowing (now) that it wasn’t the right thing to say. “What I meant is that I’ve not ever given myself to one woman. I’ve always avoided relationships because I don’t like what comes with them. This being one of those things.”

She mumbles, “You said it yourself. You’re going to hurt me.”

Underplaying my words, I shrug. “It’s bound to happen, baby. I’m sure you’ll hurt me too. But that’s just something that happens when you care about someone too much. Everyone gets hurt.” She turns her sad eyes to me. I add, “But it makes the sweet so much sweeter. If every relationship was perfect, think about how bored everyone would be. Not to mention, make up sex is supposed to be fan-fuckin’-tastic.”

Her lip twitches and I know I’ve got her. She turns her face back to the window, “You’re a dork.”

Lifting our hands to my mouth, I nip her fingers. “I’m your dork.”

Snapping her head around, she asks in all seriousness, “You mean that?” Pause. “You’re mine? Just mine?”

No lies. “Completely.” She doesn’t look convinced. Kissing the back of her hand, I say something that I didn’t plan on telling her. “You own me.”

We stop at a red light, and turning my body towards hers, I splay my hands on her cheeks and pull her head towards mine. Nose-to-nose, my jaw sets and I whisper in false calm. “But you can’t leave me. Not ever.”

Her eyes turn sad and I know she thinks I’ve got issues. She wouldn’t be wrong. I do have issues. She kisses the tip of my nose. “Don’t you know?”

My brow bunches and she smiles.

Our lips touch. She whispers against them, “You’re what fills the hole in my heart.”

Warmth flows through me. My heart kick-starts. I feel the best I’ve ever felt in my life.

Then she ruins it.

“You saved me. You’re my hero.”

Letting go of her cheeks, I pull back and look her in the eye. “No. I’m not. You have no idea how wrong you are.” Breathing deeply, I speak through an exhale. “What you want me to be…I can’t ever be. It’s not me.” My face turns cold. “I’m the villain in this story.”

The car behind beeps its horn for us to move, but I hold Lexi’s stare. She looks around in confusion as to why we aren’t moving yet. The car beeps some more and my jaw tics. There is a reason for us not moving off yet, and I need her to see me.

See the real me.

This is important. It’s important because she’s stuck with me for life.

And she doesn’t know that yet.

A muffled, “Move it along, asshole!” sounds from outside. I slowly and deliberately turn my head from side-to-side, cracking my neck. Leaving the engine running, I exit the car. Watching Lexi’s beautiful mouth part in surprise, I tell her sweetly, “Be right back, Angel.”

Walking over to the clearly-angry man, he unwinds his window and sneers, “Move your fancy car to the side of the road. This isn’t a parking spot.”

Looking chastised, I chuckle and lean down to the open window, “I know, but my girlfriend wanted to talk and we were having a moment.” My hand strikes out at lightning speed, clutching his neck. Gasping for air, he claws at my hand. I snigger, “You gotta watch who you open your mouth to, pops. You never know when those words might be your last. You got me?”

The man nods wide-eyed. I let go of his throat and watch him pant. Gesturing to the side of the car, I tell him, “Move around. It’s not hard.”

The man does just that and I walk back to my car. Sitting down, I turn to Lexi and tell her, “That’s why you can’t leave me.”

Her face bunches in confusion once again and I explain, “Baby, that would’ve been much worse if you weren’t here. You make me do things like that…” I motion with my thumb to the back of the car. “…less. You’re good for me. You make it easier.”

Eyes wide in interest, she asks on a whisper, “Make what easier?”

I smile a sad smile. “Life.”

Placing her hand in mine, she says with determination. “I won’t leave you, Twi—” Cutting herself off, she asks hesitantly. “I’d like to know…I mean, only if you want to tell…wh-what’s your name?”

I should tell her. Now. It would make everything else come easier.

But I’m suddenly petrified that it’ll be too much for her and she’ll leave me.

So rather than giving her a mile, I give her an inch. “Tony. My name is Tony.”

A small smile graces her lips. That small smile stretches impossibly. Then she’s beaming at me. “I like it,” she says humbly. “It suits you.”

Driving her home, I grip the steering wheel tightly to stop myself from getting all caveman on her and dragging her by her hair back to my bedroom. Parking by her unit, I ask sly-like, “You want me to come up?”

She laughs, “Um. No. I’ll be fine, Tw—” She smiles. “Tony. I’ll be fine, Tony.”

Putting on my best sad face, I mutter, “What about the awesome make-up sex we’re supposed to have?”

Leaning over the seat, she kisses my lips. “Anticipation will make it all the more awesome.”

Kissing me again and again, I say against her lips, “Okay. No sex.” Another kiss. “Let me eat your pussy, though.”

Her body shakes against mine in silent laughter. She pulls back. “I’m exiting the car. Don’t follow me. I have a frying pan and I know how to use it.”

Palming my cock, I say dejectedly, “You’re so mean, Angel.”

Still laughing, she shuts the car door, shaking her head. Lifting her hand in a wave, I blow her a small kiss and wonder when it actually happened.

When did I really fall in love with Lexi?

What I used to feel for her, I now see was actually a dangerous and unhealthy obsession. I wanted to hurt her. I don’t want that anymore. I want to make her happy. Because she makes me happy.

I’m happy. For the first time in my life.

Smiling at her retreating frame, I ponder.

My smile fades.

I’ve got to tell her.

Everything.

Laughing out loud, I talk to Nikki and Dave on my cell while I unlock the door to my unit.

Today was a good day. I spent some of the money that Falcon Plastics donated. I gave fifty-thousand to a new women’s shelter that was in dire need of funding, I gave ten-thousand to a charity that focuses on feeding the homeless, and I gave twenty-five-thousand to a program which is known for their work with abused children in the foster system.

I’ve been laughing and smiling like a complete dork all day long. And I don’t even care. I’m a dorkette, and Twitch is my dork. He said so himself. So I had to conference my friends and tell them all that had transpired between me and my man. Well, not everything. Just the essentials.

Dave shouts, “You’re with him? As in ‘honey, I’m home’ with him?”

Nikki scoffs, “I think you know exactly what she means, sissy-boy.” She then shrieks, “Oh my god! I’m so happy for you, babe! I knew it would work out. I just knew it.”

Walking backwards into my unit, I tell them, “Yep. It’s official. I’m with Twitch. And I would be super happy if you both supported me on this. I can’t guarantee it won’t be hard, but—” I yelp in surprise when strong arms circle my waist. My cheeks flame being busted speaking about him so freely with my friends. But I need to finish my sentence. “But I can guarantee that it’ll be worth it.” I quickly add for his sake, “If we both put in one-hundred percent, that is.”

I’m rewarded with a squeeze.

Leaning back into him, he kisses my cheek; keeping his lips on me and closing my eyes, I breathe him in.

I love his smell.

My stressful work day is forgotten, all by a small hug and his scent.

Dave still sounds guarded, “I am supporting you, babe! I can’t even remember when’s the last time you went on a date, so this is huge. I know you wouldn’t have gone into this without thinking it through.” Then he says something that reminds me of why I love this man. “Maybe I just need to get to know him. We can do dinner one night. All of us. If he’s important to you, I’ll make an effort, sweets.”

I whisper through my thick throat, “Dave.”

Nikki says a wobbly, “Naww, Dave! This is why I love to hate you! No man should be so sweet. You’re ruining us for all other men.”

Then, in perfect Dave style, he ruins the moment. “Okay, fine. No more sap. But tell me one thing…” He dramatically pauses for effect, then, “…how big is his wang?”

Nikki and I both cry out, “Dave!” then promptly burst into laughter.

That’s when Tony snatches the phone out of my hand, and putting on his best husky voice, tells them, “It’s a fucking beast.”

Laughing so hard that tears spring to my eyes, I listen in as Nikki shrieks with laughter. The very last thing I hear before he hangs up on my friends is Dave shouting, “Holla!”

Wiping under my eyes, I chuckle, “That was hilarious. Who knew you could crack a funny?”

Not saying a word, he smiles, pulling my bag off my shoulder and placing it on the floor by the door. He walks over to the sofa and sits. Then spreading his legs, he pops a pillow on the floor between them and orders, “Lexi, sit.”

If he didn’t just say my name, I’d be looking around to see who he was talking to. That’s just odd. I don’t want to sit on the floor.

“Um. I usually just sit there,” I tell him, pointing to the space free by his side.

Walking over to him, he pats his knee. “Lexi, sit.”

I suddenly feel like a dog being called to heel. It’s humiliating and completely degrading. I don’t want to start our day with a fight though, so I move next to him and say, “I’ll just sit in my normal spot,” while attempting to park my ass on the cushy sofa.

Just as my butt descends, he hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me down to the pillow between his feet. He mutters, “That’s better.”

My jaw steels.

This is my house. And I’ll sit where I damn well want to! This is absurd! Why am I allowing this?

I know he likes to be in control, but this is ridiculous.

Uncomfortable and rigid, I open my mouth to speak when he leans down and whispers in my ear, “I think you’ll find I usually get what I want.”

My brain’s mouth gapes.

The fucking nerve!

Suddenly, his hands come down on my shoulders and he rubs them firmly. My rigid posture collapses, my head falls forward, and I moan low in my throat. He says, “You work too hard. Got knots all over. You need a break. Let the little shits fend for themselves a while. Take some time off.”

I mumble, “They aren’t little shits.”

“Yeah, they are, babe. I know this because I used to be one of them. My caseworker was an asshole, though. Bitch used to hound me all the damn time ‘bout growing up and getting a job. Then when I got a job, she demanded that I quit.”

That’s unusual. My brow furrows. “What job?”

“Dealing weed.”

Laughter bursts out of me. “Oh, sweet lord. You would’ve been a handful. I’m glad I wasn’t your caseworker.”

“Baby, if you were my caseworker, I would be on the straight and narrow. And I would’ve done that shit just to impress you. Just like Mickey does.”

I smile. “How is Mickey? He doesn’t visit anymore.”

Bliss flows through me as Tony’s strong hands work my muscles into a pulp. He says, “Yeah, that’ll be my fault. I’m keepin’ him busy. Giving him lots a stupid shit to do. Things that really don’t even need to be done. I just don’t want him back on the streets dealing for easy money. I don’t want him to be what I am. I want him to be better. He’s gonna get a degree and be someone. Mark my words. The kid is smart.”

I know Michael is smart. He has so much potential. What I originally thought was a bad idea has turned into something I’m grateful for. I’m glad he’s working with Tony. He can learn a lot from him.

They can learn a lot from each other.

“Well, tell him to visit me. Mama Bear misses her cub.”

His hands still, and using his knees for leverage, I stand, shrugging out the kinks in my neck. Taking my hand, he spins me towards him, brings me between his open legs, and pulls me close. Looking up at me, he utters quietly, “You gonna listen next time I ask you to do something?”

Thankful for my shoulder rub, I reply breathily, “Yeah.”

His lip twitches. “Good girl.”

And I think I just fell more in love with this man.

“Angel, what is all this?” I ask, shoving a handful of chocolate into my mouth, peering at the bags and bags of groceries she and Happy trudge through the door and into the kitchen.

She yells out, “Shit! I forgot the damn milk!”

I can all but hear her pout from my place at the foot of the stairs.

Making my way to the kitchen, as soon as I see her standing in the middle of the room with a pout and her arms crossed, I smirk. “What’s the matter?”

She utters dejectedly, “I was attempting to be a good girlfriend and make you dinner and now it’s ruined, all because I forgot the freaking milk.” Walking over to her, I open my arms and she falls into me, muttering into my tee, “I’m sorry, babe. I was trying to do something nice.”

“It’s okay. It was the thought that counts, yeah? Anyways, I can drive you back to the store if you’re still up to cooking?”

Looking up at me with goo-goo eyes, she whispers, “Would you?”

I haven’t been to the grocery store in an age.

“Sure. Let’s go.”

And I was about to be reminded of why.

Tony finds a parking spot at the local grocery store and we both hop out of the car. Holding his hand out to me, I take it eagerly with a smile and all but skip to the entrance.

I can’t remember the last time I’d been so happy. All I know is that it had been a while. And Tony brought it out of me.

Hand-in-hand, we walk into the store and something pops into my head. “Can you get the milk? I just need to get some cinnamon while we’re here.”

“Sure,” he utters as we part ways.

Asking an attendant where the spices are kept, I make quick work of picking up what I need and dawdle towards the milk section.

We have been official for two weeks now. He made sure we saw each other every single day, going out of his way to come to me when it was late at night or I was just plain tired. Every single day we made it to the bedroom. And it’s been a far cry from our original arrangement. Don’t get me wrong, he is still very controlling…in and out of the bedroom, but there’s so much more to him that I’d never seen.

He’s tender. And sweet. And passionate.

Every kiss he places on my body is filled with affection, and although he hasn’t told me he loves me, his kisses convey exactly what he feels. And I love those knee-weakening kisses.

He spoils me too, bringing me something different every day and completely ignoring my pleas to stop. He said it was something I didn’t get a say in, and he said this firmly, so I dropped it. For now. The last gift he brought me was a bangin’ new stereo system to replace the crappy CD player he threw out the window. I never got around to replacing it, and as it was used as a sleeping aid, of course he got me something fancy and top of the line. The one I had cost me forty dollars on sale. And I was happy with that. When he handed me the remote and I stood there staring at it, he asked me what was wrong.

Wide-eyed, I replied, “I don’t want to break this doohickie.”

His lips twitched. “Doohickie?”

Shrugging, I told him, “Doohickie is a word.”

Tilting his head, he looked up in thought. “Doohickie. I like it.”

Smiling at the memory, I quicken my pace to get back to him. With his back to me, I see him speaking with a man who works at the store. Okay, so the man is actually a boy. In his late teens at most. And he looks nervous.

Then again, everyone looks nervous around Twitch.

As I approach, I hear the boy explain, “Well there’s a lot of types of milk. You’ve got your one and two percent, full cream, high calcium, omega three enriched, soy and almond milk…”

Walking closer, I hear Twitch tell the boy in frustration, “I just want milk.”

The boy points to the display. “There’s a lot to choose from. Which one do you need?”

Twitch hisses, “Any fucking thing!” Losing his temper, he shouts at the boy, “I just want regular fucking milk. Milk that you put in cereal, you little fuck!”

My stomach drops. A freak out was not on tonight’s agenda.

Placing my hand on his arm, he flinches. He turns his red face towards me and sighs in relief.  He sounds so defeated when he says, “Baby, I tried…”

Shushing him, I pick out the closest milk to me, take his hand and walk over to the checkout. We finalize our purchases and head back to the car. Halfway home, I ask gently, “You want to talk about what happened back there?”

He mutters, “Not particularly.”

Patting his hand on the center console, I say, “Okay. But if you want to, you can.”

We arrive home, and as soon as I move to open the door, he holds onto my hand, stopping my exit. “I always get a little stupid in grocery stores. It takes me back to when I was a kid.” Sitting back down in my seat, I gesture for him to continue. “You have no idea what it’s like being a kid on the street…”

I find this the perfect opportunity to let him in on a secret of my own. “Actually, for a year, when I was sixteen, I was a street kid too.”

He seems taken aback by this. “Really?” I nod, and with confusion written over his face, he asks, “Why?”

Playing with his fingers, I lower my gaze and explain, “I told you. My dad was an asshole.”

“What did your dad do to you?”

Anger threads this question, so I decide to tread lightly. “Um, nothing too bad. He liked to make me uncomfortable a lot and pull power trips over me. He played mind-games all the time. Like one day when I came home from school and he met me at the door with his hands on his hips. He said, ‘If you can’t play by my rules, I have to take something away from you.’” I shrugged. “I mean, I was just a kid. I told him I didn’t have anything to give. So he said, ‘It doesn’t matter, I’ve already taken something.’ And when I walked into the backyard, my dog was gone.”

Tony’s hand squeezes mine. I haven’t spoken about my dad in a long time. It feels good to get this off of my chest.

Losing myself in thought, I say bleakly, “I remember crying all night. All damn night. I was a mess. My dog was my best friend, apart from my brother. I was a child. Every child’s pet is their best friend.” Shaking my head as if to clear it, I continue, “The next night, I came home from school and Misty was wagging her tail at me like she’d always been there. And my heart broke all over again just from thinking she was gone forever. I cried and cried all over again. And there was Dad, smiling a cruel smile, knowing he’d broken a small piece of my spirit. When my brother started taking drugs to escape life at home, I knew I had to leave. Then my brother took off one night, and I had nothing to stay for anymore. So I left.”

As I finish, I find my hand being squeezed way too tightly. I look up to find Tony’s jaw set, and I attempt to laugh it off. “Mom wasn’t a bad person, she just wasn’t very maternal and worked long hours to get away from Dad.” When his face doesn’t change, I add, “Oh, look, it’s not like he touched me or anything.”

“Abuse is abuse, babe. Doing it to your kid, though…that makes it ten times worse. He might not have put a hand on you. Doesn’t make it any less painful for the kid.”

And he is one-hundred percent right.

Abuse hurts regardless of the form.

I pluck at his fingers. “Tell me about what happened back there at the grocery store.”

“Only if you tell me about your time on the street.”

I immediately concede. “Deal.”

 He clears his throat. “Yeah. Okay. So I was a street kid for a long time. Until I ended up in juvie. I did my fair share of shoplifting because, hey, I had to eat, right? All grocery stores remind me of being caught and feeling trapped. I hadn’t been to one in a long time and I forgot why. Until tonight.”

The thought of him feeling like a trapped animal makes my stomach clench. I wish I could take those memories away from him. I wish I could make it better somehow. It doesn’t justify his reaction to the young store clerk’s attendance, but I do understand it better.

Linking our fingers, I tell him, “Next time, I won’t leave you. Next time, we’ll shop together, and every time you feel like something’s sneaking up on you, you just tell me we need to leave and we’re gone. Okay?”

He doesn’t answer my question; instead, he changes the subject. “You on the street. Spill.”

I shrug. “Okay. I walked out of my home with fifty dollars in my pocket that I had stolen from my mom, and a backpack full of clothes. I wandered around, caught buses to wherever they were going, and spent a lot of time trying to be invisible. Somehow, I ended up in Chicago. It wasn’t all that bad. I met some great people on the street. A girl I became close with, Fran, would be a lookout while I would sneak into people’s yards and steal whatever we could use or sell for money to buy food. We did this for months without getting caught, and we became relaxed about it.” Looking at him pointedly, I tell him, “Way too relaxed. If you get what I mean.”

He smirks, “You got caught.”

I smile. “I did. I got busted. The old lady who owned the home called the cops because I was making so much noise. I didn’t notice them ‘til I was being read my rights and lead to the back of a police car. They knew I was underage. I didn’t say a word. Not a single word to the police. I was so scared they’d send me home. Back to the place I worked so hard to escape from. Suddenly, I’m being taken to a halfway house in the city and given a bed to sleep in ‘til they can find out some information about me.”

I chuckle humorlessly, “The thing about cops is that you don’t know how smart they are. They figured out who I really was. I spent a week in a halfway house completely grateful that I had a bed to sleep in and food to eat, that I was oblivious to what decisions were being made about my life in that time.” My face falls. “They contacted my mom.” Looking up at Twitch, I smile sadly, “She didn’t want me back.” My throat thickens and I cough to cover it. “A week passes by and the police visit me at the halfway house. The senior officer asks me if I would rather stay there,” my eyes tear up and I choke out, “or if I wanted to be someone’s daughter again.”

“I couldn’t believe someone wanted me. It seemed surreal that my own parents, my own blood, cared nothing for me or my brother, but someone I didn’t know wanted me. Wanted to take care of me. It was a no-brainer. I agreed to being fostered.” I smile a watery smile. “You wouldn’t believe it, but my new foster mom was the old lady that called the cops on me.” Turning to him, I laugh through my tears. “And she was a crazy woman in the best way. We ate pancakes for dinner. Had dessert for breakfast. She sent me back to school and helped me with my homework. We spent most of our nights watching lame TV or blasting music ‘til the early hours. She spent every day making sure I was cared for, cared about, and loved.”

“She was my mom. I had a mother before her, but she was the one who I loved and followed to Australia because the thought of living without her made me ill.” Wiping my nose with my sleeve, I shake my head. “She died a few years ago. Cancer. And I could’ve gone to work anywhere, but the thought of leaving Sydney makes me feel like I’m abandoning her. I can’t leave. I’ll live in Sydney ‘til the day I die.”

“Sounds like you had an adventure.”

I smile. “Yeah. I consider myself lucky. I got my happily ever after. Most don’t.” He doesn’t say a thing, and I’m officially over this conversation and the emotions being brought out of me. Turning to face him, I ask, “Hungry?”

He grins. “Starved.”

And we’re back to Lexi and Tony.

Just another night.

Cooking up a storm for my man.

Who knew Lexi could cook? From the contents of her refrigerator, you’d think she was such a bad cook that she could set fire to cereal.

After an incredible dinner of made-from-scratch lasagna with béchamel sauce and homemade pasta, I’m done. I’m so full after my third helping, that I won’t be surprised if I fall asleep in my chair. Happy decided to eat with us, but Ling declined. Smart girl. Happy sings Lexi’s praises with every fucking bite. “Damn, girl. You can cook for me anytime. And I mean anytime.”

Lexi smiles sweetly at him.

What a suck-ass.

Just as I open my mouth to tell him to shut his trap, my cell rings. Without looking at the display, I answer, “It’s after hours. You got business to discuss, you need to call tomorrow.”