His eyes close, and his head does a little shake. He looks like that breaks his heart, but the way his hands clench into fists, he looks more pissed off than anything, like he just wants to hit something—hard.
And I’m still not sure how he knew I was lying. I’ve got to do better. I’ve got bigger secrets to keep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
PAIGE
AGE 11
“Mom, do you have to go tonight?” I ask, hoping she’ll remember.
“Your mom’s my best girl,” her pimp says.
I shouldn’t know what a pimp is. I just turned eleven. Today, in fact, not that anyone remembered.
“Someone has to pay the bills,” she says, snorting the little white line on the coffee table. There goes the electric bill.
I look over at the stack of bills on the counter, then glare at the man before me. He brings her “the good stuff.” Normally, a needle in her arm does the trick, but when he needs her to do something particularly awful, he brings her the powder.
Wonder what it is tonight?
I don’t really want to know. Because it will be me that has to take care of her after. The bruises, the withdrawal—I’ll hear all the apologies. The lies.
He takes my mom by the hand, then places his other hand on my shoulder. “One day.”
My breathing increases, my chest rising and falling quickly. “Mom?”
“What?” she snaps.
“Never mind,” I say, looking at my feet.
She giggles a little, then reaches down and pinches my cheeks. Yanking my head away, I stick my tongue out at her.
“That’s a rude thing to do to your mother,” her pimp says as if he’s some sort of moral authority.
With defiance in my eyes, I stare him down and stick my tongue out at him.
He crouches down, reeking of body odor and shit for brains. “Do that again.”
My knees tremble, but I will not let him own me like he owns my mother. No man will ever own me. I cock my chin up and stick my tongue out as far as I can.
Before I know what’s happening, he licks my tongue, ramming his tongue down my throat. I can’t breathe. I can’t break away. His tongue fills my whole mouth, moving around, darting in and out. The taste of his bad breath overwhelms me, and I start to gag, forcing him to release me.
Though I have tears in my eyes, my mother only laughs.
He takes hold of my ponytail, pulling me closer. “First kiss?”
“No,” I lie, tears streaming down my face.
He chuckles, and I know I need to learn to lie better.
“All your firsts,” he whispers. “They’ll all be mine.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SLADE
She’s lying to me. I’m lying to her. Some would say that’s no way to have a relationship with someone.
To me, it’s the only way.
The more time I spend with her, the more I realize I need to spend less. But fuck me, I don’t want to. My brain knows this is a bad idea. I’ve got a con list a mile long on why I need to stay the hell away—age difference, my father, her past, my past. But it doesn’t matter. None of it matters when my dick throbs at every little thing she does. I swear, she could sneeze and make me come.
That’s true, but it’s also another lie. They’re piling up. The cold hard truth of it is that I don’t just want to fuck her. I fucking like her and want to get to know her. This woman who’s ten years younger than me. This woman who would sell herself to feed her child. This woman who wants an education, a career. This woman who insists I eat vegetables.
She’s changing me. I can feel it. Which is exactly why I’m showering then getting the hell out of Dodge this morning. One night with her almost did me in. I tossed and turned all night long. I know she didn’t have a picturesque childhood. Who did? Not me, but when I think of the things she had to endure—mad as hell and heartbroken are the two emotions that seem to cover it. She had no one. No birthdays and no one loving her or protecting her. I know that’s why she loves Finn the way she does.
Some of us learn how to love by not being loved.
Fucked up, but true.
All the more reason I have to protect her and Finn. The problem is, they might need protection from me.
Closing my eyes, all I see is her in those shorts and those damn socks she wore last night. She was beautiful the first night I saw her, all dressed up in high heels and makeup, but that’s nothing compared to the way she looks all relaxed and smiling. I like her better in knee-high socks than a thigh-high slit dress any day.
I step into my shower, the feel of her lips on my cheek still new—her mouth so soft and sweet. Lowering my head underneath the raging water, I place my hands on the shower wall, my dick hard and so fucking heavy that it hurts. I’ve resisted doing this since I met her, refusing to think of her to get me off. But screw it.
As I grip my dick, flashes of her play in my mind like lightning—her mouth, her tits, that tight little ass, her tongue sweeping across her lips. I pump hard and fast, wanting it to be her pussy instead of my hand. Wanting to see my cock pounding into her, hearing her moan, wanting to know what she sounds like, looks like when she comes all over my dick. Has sex ever been that way for her? Was it always work? God, I want her to know the pleasure I can give her, shatter her world as I come deep inside her.
“Christ,” I grunt, releasing all over my hand. But I don’t open my eyes as the fantasy of lying in bed with her after satisfying her holds me hostage. I want to make her so tired, so relaxed that she finally sleeps. And I want that in my bed.
“Slade!” I hear Paige screaming.
And it’s not the pleasurable scream I’d imagined a few minutes ago. Quickly, I rinse off, hopping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around my waist.
I hear her scream my name again. Only this time, I recognize that it’s more of a yell—the yell of a pissed-off female. Those are unmistakable.
She bangs on my door. “How could you?”
What the hell? Wonder what I did? I could hide in here like a little chickenshit, but that’s not my style. It will be too much fun to play with her when she’s all worked up. Besides, this is my house. When I open my bedroom door, she’s standing there seething. One her hand on her hip, her chest rising and falling quickly, and the other holding the baby monitor. Guess she didn’t want Finn to witness her outburst.
“Good morning,” I say, smiling.
Her eyes narrow, but she can’t stop them from wandering down my body. That’s it, babe, take a nice, long look. My dick starts to come alive under the fire in her blue eyes, and my towel isn’t doing much to hide it. Good. If we can’t be honest about everything, at least we shouldn’t lie about what we do to each other.
She raises her finger at me. “Did you threaten Clay’s job?”
“Did he tell you that?”
Her head tilts a little. “Not exactly.”
“Well, what did he say?”
“He said he likes his job here,” she says.
“That’s good to know,” I say, grinning at her.
“I know you threatened him,” she storms at me. “Maybe it was just implied, but I know you did.”