I’d barreled downstairs, huge feet clomping on the steps to burst outside. Sure enough, Ann-Marie’s car was gone, Anna must have taken her sister’s vehicle. And at that moment, Ann-Marie wandered out in a slinky negligee, one that was practically see-through, I could literally see the dark circles of her nipples and the shadow of her pussy lips.
“Oh Anna took off?” asked Ann-Marie, stretching her arms while arching her back sinuously, like a cat waking up. “No worries, my sister’s always been jealous of me, it’s nothing,” she purred before winding her arms around my neck. “Big boy, why didn’t you come to bed last night? We were supposed to have fun,” she pouted.
But I felt nothing. In fact, I was repelled. The minute the redhead had stepped out of the car yesterday, I knew everything my girl had said was true. Ann-Marie was the woman who had enticed Chance, who’d thrown her assets around for any man to sample. Ann-Marie was the woman who had rocks for brains, who’d never opened a book or watched a news program. She was the golddigger in her family, not my beautiful Anna.
Shame coursed through my big frame them, almost making me double over. Aw shit, I’d fucked up so bad. I wanted to shoot myself in the head or disembowel myself with one of those samurai swords, whichever was worse. But right now, there was still Ann-Marie on my hands.
“Get away,” I grunted harshly at female literally shoving her off me. Shit, my skin crawled when I touched her, like a cockroach had skittered across my arm.
She stumbled backwards, hands up, expression surprised.
“What?” she demanded, straightening that negligee. “What, what happened?” she continued, nose in the air. “My sister’s always been jealous of me. I’m taller, younger, skinnier, prettier, and I always get the guy,” she said smugly. “Anna’s so fucking boring, she’s probably still a virgin at twenty.”
Now that wasn’t true. I’d de-virginized Anna myself, taken that sweet pussy and drilled it again and again in the last month, coming like a fucking hurricane every time. So I turned on Ann-Marie, rage on my face.
“Get out of here,” I bit out. “You’re a whore.”
“What?” she shrieked, hands flying to her cheeks, unable to believe what she’d heard. “What the hell?”
“You heard me,” I rasped, voice harsh. “Get the fuck off my property.” And with that, I threw her the keys to my old beater in back. “You have ten minutes,” I said coldly. “To pack your bags and get out. Starting now.”
The girl stared at me wildly but then spun on her heel, hair flying.
“Fine!” she screamed. “You Morgan men are wimps in the sack anyways, Chance could never get it up. I bet you’re the same!”
I snorted, shaking my head. Man, bitches will say anything when they’re angry. For sure I’ve gotten it up hundreds, if not thousands of times, but that didn’t matter. Insults flew from Ann-Marie’s lips now, her anger twisting those features into an ugly mask.
“You have bad breath!”
“I bet you’re a hunchback!”
“I’m gonna burn all your books!”
None of it made sense, but fine. Because I just wanted her gone. Finally, the woman left, revving the engine angrily before disappearing in a huge cloud of dust. The silence was a blessing afterwards, I’ve never been so happy to be alone.
But that still left the problem of my best girl. Where was Anna? Where was the good sister? I’d just gotten the bad sister out of my hair, thank god. But now, where was my girl? I sat down at my desk, fingers drumming nervously on the hard surface. Because Anna had every right to hate me … and I didn’t blame her one bit.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Anna
Six months later …
Life’s been tough, I won’t lie. I disappeared in Ann-Marie’s car, ditching it at the state border and then hitchhiking thousands of miles on my own. It wasn’t safe, but God spares the vulnerable because somehow I made it out alive, ending up on the other side of the country in one piece.
And it hasn’t been easy, here in Seattle. It’s beautiful but so cold even during summers, and god, the rain. It rains non-stop, sometimes I look out the window and all I see is sheets of water coming down, turning the entire world gray.
But I’ve got to thank my good fortune. Because when I arrived here, I didn’t have a thing but there’d been signs at the bus depot to a women’s shelter, and bending my shoulders against the wind, I’d stumbled to the address.
“Hello?” I murmured, knocking on the door. “Please,” came my soft cry. Please what? Please god? Please help? I suppose all of those things, because never in my adult life had I thought I’d be at the mercy of city services. But now here I was, poor as a church mouse, ready to beg for help from complete strangers.