Three
R I V E R
MY HEAD SLAMS INTO the wall as a hand encircles my jaw. Ryan’s teeth follow, ravaging my neck until I’m gritting my jaw from the mix of pain and pleasure. I arch my back, moaning while his sharp teeth draws blood to the surface.
“No hickey,” I warn, pushing at his bare chest a little. He just presses into me further, growling at me in warning.
“You’re mine. I’ll do whatever the fuck I please,” he snarls, switching his attack to the other side of my neck.
He bites down particularly hard, drawing a sharp gasp between my lips. It hurts. But I don’t stop him. I want this. I really do. I do, I do, I do.
I dole out my own pain, clawing my nails across his chest. A thigh wedges between my own, and I shamelessly grind on it, drawing out pleasure. More moans slip from my throat, as his hands grip my bare breasts and squeeze. I don’t have enormous tits, but they still overflow Ryan’s hands. He loves that.
Pinching a nipple between his fingers, he rips his mouth away from my neck—finally—and attacks my mouth, thrusting his tongue between my teeth. I swallow him greedily, sending moans circling around our tongues. I grind harder, feeling the beginnings of an orgasm start to build.
I need more, though.
“Fuck me,” I beg between kisses.
He jerks back, glaring intensely at me. His blue eyes have darkened into the likes of deep ocean waters. It’s a little off-putting that I can’t discern if it’s from lust or anger. Or maybe a little of both.
“You want me to fuck you? Or do you wish I were Mako instead?” he growls, circling his hand back around my neck and slamming my head roughly against the wall once more. Not hard enough to hurt really, but his aggression is confusing.
I still, and my brows draw forward. Ice drenches my body, distinguishing all the heat radiating from my pores.
“What?” I ask, utterly baffled by his question. My blood chills as Ryan continues to glare.
There’s no longer a question if it’s from lust or anger. My boyfriend is completely enraged and I’ve no idea why. I hadn’t thought of Mako once since we stepped through the door and he ripped my
clothes off.
“Don’t play fucking stupid, River.”
My mouth opens and closes, not sure what the hell to say. I’m blindsided by his question. He takes it for guilt. He pushes off me harshly, roughly pushing me into the wall for a third time. This time it’s hard enough to cause me to topple over. I hit my elbow on floor in the process, the pain shooting up my arm.
“I fucking knew it,” he growls, looking at me with accusation.
I stare up at him in shock, panic blooming. How could he possible think that? Why can’t he see how much I love him? “Ryan, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t want Mako, I only want you,” I plead, desperate for him to just see the truth. Because I don’t want Mako. I scramble off the floor and step towards him, my hands raised with placation.
He does better and charges towards me. Instinctively, I back up into the wall. This wall and I have never been so well acquainted, and it’s starting to grate on my nerves. He presses his chest into mine and leans forward until his breath his tickling my ear.
“If you’re lying to me, I will hurt you, River.”
The threat sends cold shivers down my spine. He’s never threatened me before, not with physical violence at least. Just a minute ago, I was on top of the world, ready to get myself off on his thigh before he brutally fucked me. Now, I feel bereft.
Empty, unsatisfied, and utterly fucking bereft.
“I’m not,” I say. It sounds weak. Pathetic and desperate.
The moment over, he huffs like a bull and walks away, jeans still hanging low on his lips. I look down at my own naked body. A handprint decorates my thigh from dinner.
Tilting my head to the side, I study it.
In my psychology books, this would be considered abuse. But do I feel abused?
The tear trailing down my cheek answers my question for me. I wipe it away before Ryan sees.
Asshole.
“SO, HOW DID MEETING the parents go?” Amelia asks, her brown expectant eyes radiating excitement. We’re no longer roommates, but we never let each other go, even with us now in senior year and separate houses.
I force a wide smile. Meeting the parents went great until we got home, then everything went to shit. I’m still confused by what happened, and a cold, deep pit has been nestled in my stomach ever since. “His parents are really nice. I think they liked me.”
Amelia’s grin grows, and she hops a couple times in excitement. My best friend is a good six inches shorter than me, so it’s like watching a Leprechaun dance because they found the gold at the end of the rainbow. “I’m happy as fuck for you, girl. I know how important meeting the parents is.”
She would. She and her husband, David, have been together for five years now, one of them married. In the beginning, David’s Catholic parents didn’t approve of Amelia’s atheist beliefs. It took several years before they warmed up to her and now they actually invite her over to dinner. They’re a beautiful couple, inside and out. I’ve never met a man more genuine than David. Doesn’t hurt that he looks like a lumber jack out of those erotic novels I’d sneak in the library when I was a little girl.
Suppose it works considering Amelia looks like she stepped out of Vogue magazine, despite her shortness.
I shrug a shoulder. “To be honest, they’re those kinds of parents that would probably love anyone as long as they aren’t Satan worshippers or something. They’re pretty chill people.”
Amelia waves a hand. “Whatever the reason, I’m glad. Did you fuck in his childhood bed?” she asks, wiggling her brows at me suggestively. Now she looks like a Leprechaun enticing a young child
to eat the lucky charms.
I chuckle. “None of that this time.”
She makes a disgusted noise. “You disappoint me.”
We’re on our way to a local ice cream shop that sells the best ice cream in a fifty-mile radius.
It’s just a little shack with benches outside. Gives you that full experience—you’re not truly eating ice cream unless you’re racing the sun and attempting to eat it before it melts all over your hand.
“He has a brother, though. I didn’t even know that until I got there,” I mention casually. When Amelia stops walking and frowns at me, I bite my lip. “That’s weird, isn’t it?”
“Like, never, never mentioned him? Ever?”
“Never ever. He actually specifically said he was an only child.”
Her frown deepens, along with the teeth digging in my lip. I only stop when I begin to taste copper. Her blonde hair whips in the wind as she turns around and walks backwards, strands sticking to her face as she seems to contemplate that. Her effortless beauty makes me want to smudge her make up or something. I’m just waiting for her to trip, but she never does.
Graceful bitch, she is.
“You sure he’s actually their son?”
I shrug my shoulders. “His mom said it on several occasions.”
“Huh,” she says. “Wonder why.”
I snort. “Well, it was a little clear once I saw them together. They hate each other.”
“Maybe they have some weird sibling rivalry going on,” she says off-handedly.
We’ve arrived at the ice cream shop, and the menu has snagged her attention. I decide to let it go.
I’ve heard of siblings hating each other. It happens. Normally, they don’t act as if the sibling doesn’t exist unless something major happens, though.
What are you hiding, sweet Ryan?
“Hey,” a voice chirps from behind me. The sounds makes my heart pause. I turn to find my nemesis. Ryan’s ex-girlfriend.
Amelia turns and her face drops. She’s never been formally introduced to Alison, but she knows exactly who she is. And she also knows the bitch tried to sabotage my relationship.
Light brown hair, hazel eyes that change colors depending on the lighting, and a bombshell body.
She’s beautiful, and I hated her on first sight. Even more so when I talked to her.
“Hey, Alison,” I reply coolly. She has the audacity to look nervous.
“I’m sorry if I’m bothering you. I just wanted to see how you’re doing?”
I try not to blanch, but I do anyway. Amelia’s brows drip in confusion. I clear my throat.
“I’m fine.”
Her shoulders drop, along with her voice as she whispers, “I really wish you’d listen to me.”
Anger coils my innards so tightly, my throat closes. Amelia knows she’s tried to sabotage my relationship, but I never told her how. And I don’t plan to let her in on it.
“This is not the time or place,” I hiss under my breath, so only she can hear.
Alison’s plump, lying lips tighten into a hard line. Dimples pop out on her cheeks and I hate her for it. My dimples are hidden in my laugh lines. Hers are cuter.
Finally, she nods her head. She spares Amelia a glance, and then walks past me. Her hand
touches my elbow briefly as she whispers, “Be careful.”
I barely refrain from ripping my arm from her grip. Instead, I keep my gaze straight forward and let her pass.
Amelia hands my ice cream over slowly, eyeing the spot Alison disappeared from with confusion.
“She was… nice,” she finishes hesitantly.
“She’s a snake.”
Amelia doesn’t look convinced. And that breaks my heart a little.
“What did she say?”
“Nothing I haven’t already heard. She’s jealous and wants me to leave him.”
I don’t share the reasons why. Those are for me to consider.
Amelia’s face morphs into disgust. “What a bitch.”
She is, isn’t she? I contemplate that as I lick my chocolate chip mint ice cream.
“WHERE WERE YOU?” Ryan asks right as I step through the door. I pause, and fuck, that made me look guilty. He’s sitting on the couch, one foot resting on his knee as he watches ESPN. The house is spotless, and our cat, Bilby, snoozes on the headrest behind him.
“I got ice cream with Amelia after class.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he says snidely, not taking his eyes off the screen once. “She acts like a whore, so I’m sure there were guys there, too.”
I sigh softly. “Babe, it was just us two, I promise. No guys. And she’s happily married to David.”
He rolls his tongue in his mouth. He’s radiating anger. The air stinks of his bad attitude. “Let me see your phone then.” I hesitate. Why does he need to see my phone?
He holds out an expectant hand. Reluctantly, I hand it over. Not because I have anything to hide, but because he doesn’t trust me and I want to fix that. Ryan’s my first relationship, so it’s not like I’m a notorious cheater and have a past. Don’t get me wrong, I slept around with a few guys and Ryan knows that, but I was single and unattached. Ryan’s done the same, so it’s not fair to hold my past against me. His distrust is completely unwarranted. I’ve never given Ryan any reason to think I’d want anyone else.
I watch him open my messages, scroll through them, and then open each chat and check those.
Then he opens my social media, and finally, my pictures. He sets the phone down and nods his head in acceptance.
“Does this mean I get to look through your phone, too?” I say with an edge of bitterness. He looks up at me, and stares at me blankly. Embarrassment floods me. I’ll take that as a no.
“How was work?” I try, changing the subject and attempting to sound cheerful. I hate it when
he’s angry.
He turns his glare to me. “My dad hired a new secretary. Same age as me. Couldn’t keep her slut hands to herself.”
My blood runs cold, and anxiety bursts in my stomach, swirling around like acid. Is she prettier than me? Did he fuck her? What if she’s better than me?
“She better have,” I snap, my increasingly dormant attitude rising to the surface.
Finally, a smile. Or rather, a smirk. His foot begins to bounce on his knee.
“Don’t worry, baby. I don’t want anyone but you,” he assures with saccharine sweetness.
Something dark unfurls in my chest, tainting any semblance of a good mood I had going. Alison had already put a damper on my day, and now Ryan’s weird attitude is completely ruining it.
“Come here, baby. I just missed you, that’s all. I’m pathetic and just want you around all the time,” he says, patting the couch next to him. His tone seems genuine, though I still hesitate. Slowly, my fists unfurl, and my shoulders relax. Little red crescents are imprinted in my palm, and it burns. I hadn’t realized I even clenched them.
At my reaction, his smile widens. “Come here. I missed you.”
I walk over, grateful that he’s in a better mood. I’m still a little angry about the woman, but when he looks at me with as much pride as he is now, it’s hard not to forget about her.
I cuddle into his side, and he wraps an arm around me. A light kiss lands on my temple, and I’m tempted to start purring like Bilby.
A finger curls under my jaw, and gently, he raises my chin until I’m staring into his faded blue eyes. “Please don’t ever leave me. I couldn’t live without you.”
“I would never leave you,” I promise.
He shakes his head, and what looks like agony passes over his face. “Good. I don’t think I would survive it. I’d probably kill myself.”
A line forms between my brows. His words are sweet and unsettling all in the same breath.
“Don’t say that, Ryan,” I demand softly. “You wouldn’t kill yourself.”
“I would,” he says firmly, his eyes boring into mine.
“Why?” I ask incredulously.
“I’ll never find anyone that makes me as happy as you do,” he says softly. “I’ll never find anyone as perfect as you.”
I melt. Like that fucking ice cream I ate earlier.
“I’m not. You’re perfect for me.”
He smiles, showcasing his beautiful smile. “Yeah?”
I bite my lip and nod. He grabs my hand and rubs it over his hard dick, straining against his shorts.
“Why don’t you show me how perfect I am for you.”
So, I do. He falls asleep only a minute after he comes. I don’t even have the energy to get myself off after the weird day I had.
IT’S A SUNDAY AND Ryan and I have nothing planned. I wake with a smile on my face, excited to laze around all day with my boyfriend. He let me move into this house only a few months ago, and so far, we haven’t gotten a whole day to just relax.
I stretch my body, enjoying all the aches and pains being stretched out. Ryan’s bed is absolute heaven, the perfect mixture of firmness and lying on a cloud. My body had lied on nothing but hard floors and lumpy beds up until I moved in. It had actually taken a good month before I stopped waking up incredibly sore—my body not used to anything so luxurious. Now, I can hardly remove from myself from the bed.
Ryan’s spot next to me is empty. Patting his spot, I find that it’s cool. He’s been up for a little while now. The smile slowly fades from my face as my hand wanders over the spot he occupied all night. We used to wake up together on the weekends and snuggle in bed before we had to get up and attend to our responsibilities. It’s been a few months since the last time he stuck around in the mornings.
Ryan’s been acting weird lately. Aggressive, distrustful, distant, and flat-out mean. While Ryan’s always been a bit edgy, he’s never caused this amount of turmoil in our relationship before. Up until recently, he’s always gone out of his way to make me feel special, loved, and cared for.
So many memories of wonderful dates that ended in passionate sex. Moments where we would just laugh together, sometimes for no reason at all. Him doting on me, professing love to me in the cutest ways, and always surprising me with sentimental gifts. I don’t know when those memories started mixing with much darker ones. The sentiments and doting are nowhere to be seen. All the little things he used to do for me, like making sure I had coffee in the morning, keeping my favorite water stocked, or coming home with flowers after work, have disappeared. Now, it’s just Ryan demanding to go through my phone, calling me a whore for wearing too much make-up or revealing clothes, and now putting his hands on me in almost violent ways.
Work has been stressing him lately, maybe that’s why. He’s still trying to make a name for himself that isn’t attached to his father’s. I can be understanding and let those little things go, they’re not things I need from him anyway. As long as Ryan and I are happy, that’s all that matters.
Hopping up, I quickly run my hands through my hair. I’ll brush my teeth after breakfast. Though, I can’t smell anything cooking yet.
When I walk down into the living room, Ryan’s lounging shirtless on the couch with his laptop on his lap and his reading glasses perched on his nose. He looks so damn sexy, I want to jump his bones. Bilby is lying in his usual spot on the back of couch, snoozing loudly.
I rescued him from the shelter a few months ago, and he’s been my little shadow ever since.
Ryan doesn’t pay much attention to him, and often sneers at the cat hair everywhere, but otherwise doesn’t complain too much. Ryan had asked me to quit my job when I moved in, so I’ve been lonely in the house while he works. Having a companion has eased the majority of my loneliness.
“Good morning,” I chirp.
He spares me a glance but doesn’t say anything.
I pause on the last step. Uh. Okay then.
“Do you want breakfast?” I ask.
“What do you think I’ve been waiting for?” he asks coldly, not looking up from his screen. My smile falls and all happiness slowly deflates.
“Fuck!” he shouts unexpectedly, slamming his laptop on the couch angrily. I jump from the sudden outburst, my hand flying to my chest as if I’m keeping it from jumping out of my ribcage.
“What’s wrong?” I question breathlessly, trying to reign my heartbeat back into a normal tempo.
“Fucking internet went out again,” he mutters, storming to his office where the router is. I stand there confused, staring at the space he disappeared from. He’s been fighting with our cable company for the last few months about this, but he’s never gotten this worked up about it before. Within seconds, he comes storming back in, plops down on the couch and proceeds to work on his laptop again.
“Is there anything else wrong?” I ask hesitantly. Another glance, this time filled with annoyance.
“No.”
Deciding to let it go for now, I immediately start making breakfast. French toast, bacon and eggs.
Maybe he’s just hungry and that’s why he has an attitude. It’d be hypocritical to act like I don’t get hangry sometimes, too. I pile his plate high when the food’s done, and even add a few fresh strawberries and cream on his French toast.
He takes the plate and digs in. In complete silence. Not even a thank you.
Of fucking course not.
Slowly, I sit down next to him and eat. Did I do something wrong? I don’t want to anger him further. I look to him, watching his face for a reaction to the food. It’d only make things worse if I didn’t make a good breakfast for him.
“Do you like it?” I ask anxiously. He glances at me, licking a dollop of cream of the corner of his
mouth.
“I’m eating it, aren’t I?”
I frown. That’s not really an answer.
I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s a wall around him. Like if I speak, he’ll snap. I keep my mouth closed. I keep it closed during breakfast, during lunch and even during dinner. My only source of entertainment is playing with Bilby until Mary and Ava arrive.
They’re house cleaners Ryan hired to come every Sunday. Most days, I insist on helping. I’m a grown woman and perfectly capable of cleaning up after myself, so I always feel weird letting the girls clean up after us.
Mary is an older woman, with salt and pepper hair, wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, and a slight hunch back. Her grandmother built their cleaning company from the ground up, and Mary now in her 60s, has kept the business going. She’s a very stern woman but has a gentleness she preserves just for Ava and I. Ava, Mary’s granddaughter, is following in the family footsteps. She’s only sixteen, with sleek black hair, big doe eyes, and a shy smile. They’ve both always been so good to Ryan and I.
And though Mary hates it when I help, she always ends up conceding since Ava focuses on cleaning better when I’m around.
Even after Mary and Ava leave, Ryan still doesn’t speak to me throughout the entire day, and I grow angry. He talks to a few people on the phone, and he’s boisterous and laughs with them. Hands waving vigorously, more animated than a corpse awakened by a necromancer.
Why won’t he talk that way to me? The moment he hangs up, the iciness settles back in, frosting the entire house with his energy. I’m not normally a petty person, but I’m on the verge of burning sage around the house to expel his negative vibes.
A few times, I tried to ask why he won’t talk to me. He didn’t even look at me when he said, “You’re not talking, either.”
Yeah, because you’re giving me the cold shoulder, dick.
He had nothing else to say, and if I pushed, he’d just get up and go to a different room in the house. Even Bilby couldn’t cure my loneliness today. How can two people co-habitate the same house, but it feels like I’m alone? I give up trying, and by night, I’m silently fuming.
We went to bed perfectly fine last night. I woke up from the couch and he gave me a cute sleepy smile. I helped him to bed, and he murmured how much he loves me. He cuddled me all night, up until early morning when he awoke before me.
And now this. We were fine. We were fucking fine. What happened?
I put a movie on without asking him if he wants to watch it. I don’t fucking care if he does or not.
I settle into the couch, the buttery black leather comforting me as I cuddle into a soft blanket. The living room is large, with three large couches filling the space, a massive flat screen television with Ryan’s game consoles set up beneath it and expertly placed décor and family pictures along the walls.
Ryan’s taste is more modern and sterile, with lots of shades of black, gray, and white. It’s a beautiful house, but it definitely lacks the homey, lived-in vibe that Julie and Matt’s house has.
I’m halfway through the movie when Ryan closes his laptop and pokes me in the thigh playfully.
The gesture irritates me, but I’d be a liar if it didn’t also plant that hopeless feeling in me again.
Hope. Hope is hopeless.
“Come cuddle with me,” he whines good-naturedly. He even has the balls to give me puppy dog eyes.
I’m sorry, what? I look at him with a mixture of shock and anger. The audacity.
“Oh, now you want to talk to me?” I sass.
He scoffs and shakes his head, as if I’m the one being unreasonable. As if I’m crazy and he has no idea what I’m talking about.
“Fine, then don’t. I just wanted to cuddle.” That cold, hard voice is back, except this time, he looks at me like he can’t believe my attitude. He leans away and crosses his arms, the wall erected once again. The small amount of attention he gave me is gone, and now I feel lonely again.
Sadness hits me. He ignored me all day, and he finally is giving me attention, and I’m turning it down.
“Tell me why you ignored me all day,” I demand, unwilling to settle back into silence. He gives me a weird look, as if I just asked him if he’d paint his nipples green for me.
“You weren’t talking, either, River. You always do this. You make things into a big deal when it was just us sitting in comfortable silence and relaxing. Why are you trying to pick a fight with me for no reason?”
My lip trembles. Is that what I was doing? This whole time I thought he was ignoring me when really, he was just enjoying my company in comfortable silence. I feel so stupid.
“Do you want to cuddle or not?” he snaps. He’s throwing me one last bone and I snatch it up like a starved dog. Shamefully, I crawl into his lap. He smiles broadly and circles his arms around me, shifting into a comfortable position so we can both watch the movie.
He intermittently kisses the side of my head and runs his fingertips over my skin. We go to bed the same way we did the night before. He has a smile on his face, and he cuddles me all night, while I
lie awake berating myself for ruining the day.
Next time, I’ll do better.
SHALLOW HILL IS A black hole in this state. Normally, anything that goes in, never comes back out. I was one of very few exceptions. Some days, I still don’t know how I managed it.
On those days, it still feels like I’m stuck here in this desolate place where innocent souls die.
I walk alongside the river I was born in. Even the river is dead. Murky, still and devoid of life.
And quite frankly, it fucking reeks. How I didn’t contract some type of disease from this river is beyond me.
Broken down homes line the other side of me. The windows that aren’t intact are boarded up with splintering, rotting wood. Most of the houses are missing siding panels, exposing the wooden skeletons beneath. And every house has traffic of cracked out men and women entering and leaving.
Some belong there, most don’t.
Faint screaming can be heard in the distance. I keep walking until I reach Barbie’s house. Her house used to be white, but now it’s a sickly gray color with broken panels and rust. The closer I draw, the louder the screaming becomes until it’s apparent Barbie’s in another fight with an addict.
More than likely because she smoked and injected all their drugs after she fucked them till they passed out.
Slowly, I walk towards the back door. It’s rusty and creaks as I open it up. Barbie and a greasy, skinny man come into view, both screaming so hard that they’re spitting in each other’s faces. They’re standing in the kitchen, with yellowed, cracked linoleum flooring, a mold-infested fridge, and a kitchen table cluttered with cigarette butts, empty liquor bottles and used needles.
Looks the exact same way it did every day for the eighteen years I was trapped inside this dump.
“You fucking bitch! Those were mine!” the man shouts, backhanding Barbie across the face. I don’t even flinch. She grabs her cheek in shock—for the life of me, I can’t understand why she’s shocked—and then rears back and clocks him in the nose.
The crunch comes a second before the man starts howling, holding his bloody nose.
“You broke my nose!” Way to point out the obvious.
“You deserved it, you piece of fucking shit!”
“Leave,” I demand lowly. They both freeze and turn towards me. Neither of them even noticed I was here. It’d be so easy to kill them both. No one would care enough about them to find out who did it.
The man’s beady eyes study me with anger and perversion, his hand still clutching his nose.
“Who the fuck are you?” he demands, his voice now nasally and stuffed with blood.
“The owner of this house. Now fucking leave.”
He huffs and turns to storm out the front door, muttering obscenities and promises of revenge
under his breath the entire time.
Barbie turns to me and gives me a yellow smile. “Thanks, baby.”
It’s honestly got to be one of the seven wonders in the world on how I came from… that. Barbie was once beautiful in her younger years, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at her. I only figured it out when I found an old picture of Barbie and Billy in their twenties, right when Barbie started getting hooked on drugs. I’m a replica of her former self. Long, curly black hair, golden eyes and a wide smile. Now, her hair barely falls to her shoulders, the greasy strands thin and wispy. Her skin is full of pockmarks and wrinkles and cracked like cheap leather. And she’s as thin as a rail, though she does retain some muscle mass from the constant scuffling she finds herself in with men and woman.
I suppose that’s one thing I can say about Barbie. Aside from Billy, she doesn’t take anyone’s shit. The man currently nursing his broken nose can attest to that.
“I didn’t do it for you,” I deadpan. Her fake smile washes off, revealing her real face.
“Bitch,” she mutters. Nothing I haven’t heard before. “Why are you here, anyway?”
“You know exactly why, Barbie. Came to collect rent.”
Her shoulders tense. She doesn’t need to say it—I already know. She doesn’t have the money.
She smoked, injected or snorted it all. Probably drank it, too.
“What did you steal this time?” I ask casually, referring to the man with a broken nose.
She snarls, her dilated eyes simmering as she rages, “I didn’t steal nothin’! I fucked him nice and hard for that shit. I earned that, and it was mine.”
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “If you’re going to sell your body, at least get cash for it.
How are you going to eat and pay rent otherwise?” It’s like talking to a brick wall. Not sure why the words even left my mouth. They won’t ever penetrate her drug-addled brain anyway.
She plops down on the chair, and lights up a cigarette, not bothering to respond. Typical. She’d rather act like I never said anything than acknowledge the fact that she owes me money.
“I own this house. I can evict you any time I want. All I need to do is go to the courthouse and serve you the papers, and your ass is out in a month tops,” I threaten, sitting down in the chair across from her.
I take care not to touch any of the surfaces if I can help it. I don’t know what kind of diseases I could pick up. Ryan would kill me if that happened.
“You think because you’re dating you a rich man that you can get away with whatever you want,” she spits, her glazed eyes narrowed into slits. “Shallow Hill is in your bones, little girl. You’ll never be better than me, so quit acting like it.”
“You sound bitter, Barbie,” I state with boredom. “Doesn’t change the fact that I own this house and you owe me rent.”
This house foreclosed when I was a freshman in college. By that point, I had busted my ass since I was sixteen, working in fast food the next town over, and then working part time in a call center when I turned eighteen. I saved every penny, got a credit card and built my credit from the bottom up.
When the house foreclosed, I bought it from the bank for an insanely cheap price. It was almost insulting. That money went down the hole. I’ll obviously never profit from it by reselling—no one wants to live in Shallow Hill—but it was worth it. Keeping my mother under my thumb is worth every. Fucking. Penny.
Her hands tremble as she pulls from the cigarette.
“I’ll tell Billy,” she threatens around a cloud of smoke. I raise an eyebrow. She says this every time she’s late on rent. Which is every single month, mind you.
“Billy doesn’t give a shit about you, Barbie.”
“He does when he’s balls deep inside me,” she snaps back. I roll my eyes at her immaturity.
Billy doesn’t care about anyone, even when he’s balls deep inside them.
Barbie and I have both seen firsthand what happens when Billy gets angry with someone. We’ve also seen what happens when he grows bored with them, too. Equally terrifying prospects. Neither of us seek him out if we can help it.
“He’ll tell you whatever you want to hear, and the second he comes, he’s already forgotten about you.”
A hand thumps on the table in anger. I’ve no idea what she was attempting to accomplish there.
Scare me? I never feared her to begin with. Not when her clients always did so much worse than she could ever do.
Billy was always the worst one, and the one that hung around most frequent. He keeps my mother doped up on drugs, and she gives him information and bad sex in return.
He’s a drug lord and has insane connections. And Barbie fucks everyone. Men and women. With that, comes dirt on everyone in town. Barbie wraps the noose around their balls, and Billy strings them up. He owns this entire shitty town.
I’ll never admit it to her, but Billy scares me to death. He’s capable of making anyone disappear without a trace. Barbie knows that deep down, but I think there’s a miniscule part of her that isn’t willing to turn over her daughter to Satan himself. Besides, Billy always liked me better, and Barbie knows that, too.
He’s caused enough damage to carry over to my next three lifetimes at least. He took my innocence, and my entire childhood. Both irreplaceable. Both I’ll never get back.
“I want the money by next week. Fuck extra hard, I’m sure you can make it.”
I walk out the door, her screaming and curses following me long after I’ve left.
