I also have to factor in that I’m only here a few more weeks. Once the summer’s over, I have to sell the house. It’s gonna kill me to see Gran’s place be demolished, but without that money, I’m dead broke. Well, I’ll still be dead broke. What I’ll make will barely cover the first and second mortgages and back taxes she wasn’t paying, but hopefully it should be enough for a plane ticket back home and a ride to the government office to register for food stamps.
The point is, I leave soon.
Unless he asks me to stay.
Come on, Lucy. He’s not going to ask.
That pessimistic side of me agrees. I’ve thrown out some hints about the summer ending and Trevor shuts them down every time. He gets agitated and changes topics. He blames his change in mood on work. But I’m not sure what to believe.
“I have something I want to show you, so don’t take too long. Then again, I’m aching to find a reason to take my palm to that sweet ass of yours.” I smile and wiggle my butt at him. I flash him my tits for good measure, and I’m on my way. I’m already trying to picture my pile of clean clothes so I know what to grab and head right back. My fingers wrap around the doorknob just as it opens, pushing me back.
“Whoa!” I catch myself as a man walks in, acting like he owns the place. “Excuse me, can I help you?”
He stares down at me, giving me the creeps. “Can you help me? The question is who the fuck are you?”
Dude, what a prick! “I’m Lucy, the neighbor, and you?”
His smile fills his features, but it’s nothing like Trevor’s. His is cold. Cruel, almost. “Ahhh, the neighbor. I assume you’re the cause of his distraction.”
“Distraction?”
“Trevor’s a smart man. A busy man. He’s needed. He doesn’t have time to be playing around with a little poor, stubborn girl just to close on a house faster.”
His insult cuts deep, just like he wanted. I wish I didn’t show how it affected me, but his evil smirk tells me he knows it did. “He's not...you don’t know anything about me…or us,” I snarl back at him.
“I don’t? You aren’t the golden ticket to him tearing down that piece of shit, eye-sore next door? I commend my friend for getting in your pants to trick you into selling sooner. Our business needs his full attention, though. Do us all a favor. Sell the goddamn house already and go back to your playground, wherever that is. He’s too old to play games with you.”
He brushes off his suitcoat, as if I’ve dirtied it. “Oh, do tell me you know about the contract? The one he carries around, waiting for the right time to force it on you?” He starts to laugh. “He was right when he said you were a dumb little nitwit.”
“I don’t believe you. He wouldn't say that.”
“Not my problem. Just do us both a favor and sign so you can get out of his hair.” He doesn’t give me another second of his time. He walks out of the house and into his fancy car.
I stand there, stone still as he pulls away. He’s lying. Trevor feels something for me. If I were just a conquest to get that contract signed, I’d know it. Wouldn't I?
Oh God. Has this all been a farce? I recall the first time he came to my door, demanding I sign the new contract, but he never asked again. Was it because he had a plan? Was this his plan?
I feel sick to my stomach. Is that what he was going to show me? I turn, heading back to his room. I’m quiet in hopes he doesn’t realize I’ve returned. I go into his closet and sift through his coat jackets. Which one did he have on? Dammit, they all look the same. I start feeling at the pockets until I hit pay dirt. Digging into the coat pocket, I pull out a folded paper. No. My heart plummets. It’s the new contract. Everything is complete, save for the date and my signature.
Whoever that man was, he was telling the truth. My assumptions tell me I just met his jerk off business partner.
Fuck me. And fuck him.
How stupid can I be? I wipe a tear off my cheek and shove the paperwork back in his pocket. I leave Trevor’s and make my way back to Gran’s. I storm into the house, but stop in my tracks. When I look around, I don’t see just my Gran’s house anymore. I see memories of him. Images of the past month he’s made so wonderful for me. Us on the couch, him touching me so gently, as if I would break in his arms, to images of him losing complete control and pushing me so far into oblivion with his mouth, his hands, his words, it threatened to shatter in a million glorious pieces.
But it was all a sham.
And I’m the dumb girl who fell for it.
I rip my eyes away from anything reminding me of him and hurry down the hallway. “Maybe he’s right. I am just a dimwit. Falling for someone who was too good to be true. God!” I yell, wanting to throw myself on the bed and cry for being so naïve. But that bed is another reminder of the bad choices I make.
I can’t stay here anymore. “I’m sorry, Gran, I can’t do this anymore.” I swipe at my soaked cheeks and grab a few things while I order an Uber. I’m in such a hurry, I forget to grab the letter Gran gave me. On the car ride, I deplete the remainder of my savings for a plane ticket home.
Chapter Eleven
Trevor
I look at the clock before throwing a shirt over my head. What the fuck’s taking her so long? The itch I get anytime she’s not in my presence quickly returns. I can’t imagine her leaving at the end of the summer. That’s why tonight, I’m going to change that. With the music job application now in hand, it’s time to force my girl to stay.
My mind takes me back to earlier this morning watching her sleep. It sounds creepy as fuck, but God, how beautiful she looked in my arms. She’s like an angel bringing me peace. It’s been too long since I’ve enjoyed the quietness of my life. When she’s not around, my head explodes and the numbers become louder. More cluttered. Almost too much to handle. It’s fucking maddening.
Dr. Winters thinks I should go in for an evaluation. But I don’t need therapy. I need her. I need to be with her. In her. Tasting her. Fucking her. Owning her. There’s not a time where I’m not thinking about fucking her so far into submission, she knows who she belongs to. But there’s that part of her that doesn’t require it. She knows who owns her. I fucking do.
I walk over to the front door and step outside as a car pulls away. Barefoot, I walk next door, ready to drag her back, dressed or not. She doesn’t need clothes. I’ll buy her anything she wants. The whole goddamn department store.
I twist the knob to walk in, but it’s locked. What the fuck? I bang on the door. “Luce, open up.” I give it a few seconds, then jiggle the knob again. “Lucy! Seriously, get out here, or I’m gonna take your ass with my cock.” I laugh for a second, trying to mask my anxiousness. I start banging harder, frantic. “Open the fucking door!”
Silence.
I take off behind the house and run three stairs at a time up to her back deck. I pull at the sliding glass door, but it’s locked too. I look inside and don’t see movement. I look through each window I can reach, but the rooms are absent.
“What the fuck?” I reach for my phone to call her when I realize I don’t even know her number. She’s never been out of my sight long enough to have to call her. Panic seizes me. I dial Clara’s number, but get her voicemail.