I think I fall asleep, because suddenly, I hear a phone ringing and I feel Adrian’s fingers stroking my hair as he says, “What did she do now?”
And then followed by a sigh. “I’ll be right there.”
Don’t go. I scream in my head. She’s not me. Don’t go to her.
But his fingers leave my hair and the mattress dips. Even though I don’t see the emptiness, I feel it in the darkest corners of my heart.
I’m all on my own.
A tear cascades down my cheek, and I have no clue why or who’s the ‘she’ I internally told him not to go to.
16
Winter
“You have one mission. Pull the fucking trigger.”
No.
“Mommy?”
I open my eyes, heart hammering so loudly, all I hear is its beat. Jeremy is perching over me, his little hand pulling on my nightgown.
Wait. A nightgown. I thought I fell asleep naked. When did I put this on?
“Mommy?” Jeremy calls again, his tiny chin trembling.
“Hey, baby. Morning.”
“M-morning.” He sniffles, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
I run my thumb over his tears. “Why are you crying?”
“Cuz you weren’t there when I woke up this morning. I thought you were gone again.”
“I told you I won’t leave. You don’t believe me?”
His gray eyes blur with tears. “But you always disappear, Mommy.”
I do? I mean, Lia does? Why would she? Actually, having had a taste of Adrian, I know exactly why she would. He’s not the type of man anyone would stay with willingly.
He’s the devil incarnate. A hateful asshole whose only purpose is to sweep away anyone in his path.
But even so, Jeremy is her son. She shouldn’t have left him with that type of man. Neither of them deserves the blessing that is Jeremy.
Softening my voice, I smile at him. “I won’t do it again, my little angel.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely not, so stop crying.” I wipe his cheeks with the pads of my fingers.
“You said you’d sleep with me, Mommy.”
“Your father had other plans. Talk it out with him.” It takes everything in me not to say your asshole father.
I wiggle to a sitting position and pain explodes all over my ass and my inner thighs. I wince, grabbing the bedpost for balance.
I’m sore like I’ve never been before and he didn’t even fuck me—and wouldn’t, per his words.
My insides burn with the reminder of Adrian’s merciless lashes and the depraved type of pleasure that his fingers ripped out of me.
It didn’t matter how much I resisted, how much I wanted to hate it. He bent me to his will to the point that I actually craved it. I wanted it like I’ve never wanted anything.
But now I wish I can incinerate last night and everything that came with it from my memories.
“Are you hurt, Mommy?”
I smile. “A little.”
“I’ll kiss it better.”
I laugh, then give him my cheek. “Go ahead.”
He smooches me, his small hands wrapping around my neck. I can’t help feeling the need to hug him, so I pick him up and sit him on my lap, ignoring the sting of pain on my ass.
“Do you love cuddling, Jer?”
“What does cuddling mean?”
Oh, the poor baby has such horrible parents. I pull him to me underneath the blanket and hold him close, stroking his hair away from his eyes. “This is called cuddling.”
He grins. “Are you gonna cuddling with me every day?”
“Every single day and then…” I trail off, tickling his tummy. “I’m going to attack you.”
He breaks down in uncontrollable giggles. “No, Mommy, nooo!”
“You’re done for, Jer.”
“Mommy!” He snorts out laughing while trying to protect his stomach.
His joy is infectious and I break down in laughter with him. And just like that, my day is off to the best start possible.
Except for the pain in my ass and the other one at the back of my head. I might’ve ignored my need for alcohol yesterday, but I don’t think I can go on another day like this.
After I shower and help Jeremy with his, we dress in matching colors. Black pants and green flannel shirts. I use a scarf as a belt. I don’t find any other tank tops—after the savage tore the only one available. So I put on a short-sleeved shirt and twist it at the bottom, then gather it in a knot so that it’s showing my belly button. I’m wearing heels today because I feel like I need the height to go with the cut of the pants.
Jeremy puts on his white-framed sunglasses and I find similar ones in my drawer. It doesn’t matter that we’re indoors. I take several selfies with the little angel because we believe we’re the coolest mother-son duo. Jeremy poses and smiles like a professional model, giggling uncontrollably whenever I try to tickle his tummy.
After our photoshoot, we abandon our sunglasses and I play a Spanish pop song on my phone in his room. Jeremy’s eyes bug out as I take his hand and start dancing with him.
He moves his hips a little and when I twirl him, he gasps in the midst of his laughter.
“You do it, Mommy!” he exclaims.
“Do what?” I shout over the music.
“Twirl like the beautiful girl.” He motions at a ballerina in a snow globe that’s resting on his nightstand.
My smile falls as I study her, the way she’s standing on pointe as snow surrounds her. The first image that comes to mind is broken legs, protruding bones, and blood.
Lots of fucking blood.
“Mommy?” Jeremy stops dancing and I realize it’s because I’ve come to a halt.
I rip my gaze from the snow globe and smile at him. “Yes?”
“Don’t worry. You’re more beautiful than her.”
The innocence of this angel.
“I am?”
“You’re the prettiest ever.”
“Thank you, my angel.” I brush his hair. “Are you hungry?”
“Yup!”
“Let’s go then.”
I turn off the music and hold his hand in mine as we go downstairs.
As soon as we’re in the dining room, the mood shifts. Ogla is waiting for us with scowls and obvious disregard for our clothes. But the one I’ve dreaded seeing the most and have kept pushing to the back of my head since I woke up isn’t here.
“Where’s Adrian?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“Working in his office.” She pauses for good measure. “He’s not to be disturbed.”
I sure as hell wouldn’t disturb him. If anything, I’m relieved I don’t have to face him this morning and can have a peaceful breakfast with Jeremy.
Or mostly peaceful since Ogla keeps watching us on his behalf like a hawk.
I ignore her as I sit beside Jeremy. My ass burns and I close my eyes so that the ache passes. It doesn’t, though. Every shift provokes the welts, and to my horror, it starts a tingle in my core.
Damn it.
I ignore the state between my thighs and focus on feeding Jeremy and myself.
It feels almost surreal that I’ve had breakfast two days in a row and that I haven’t skipped a meal since that sandwich I ate in Adrian’s car. It seems like so long ago, even though it’s been less than forty-eight hours.