Chapter Four
EVE
Filthy. Depraved. Disgusting.
So, why the hell do I want to walk back into Leo’s room and let him teach me some manners?
The way he spoke to me. He got upset. He took control.
He made me feel small, pathetic, and degraded.
My entire body begs to be handed over to him.
To feel his rough fingers thrusting in and out of me.
I wanted to drop my towel, get on my knees, and await his instruction.
His commanding presence sends shivers down my spine and a tingle through my body.
Even Leo’s harsh, cutting words, calling me a cock wallet and a slut, have left me soaked. What the hell is wrong with me?
I try not to focus on it or to let it affect my interview. Even with the animal eager to take me.
A job’s a job. No matter how demeaning it might be.
***
The interview goes well. There’s no certainty they’ll give me the position, but a pretty, young girl selling skimpy outfits would be good for business.
The lady who interviewed me, Betty Anderson, doesn’t fit in here.
She’s the sort who has a better time at church on a Sunday, not selling lingerie in a mall.
If she’s running the front desk, it’s no wonder they’re trying to find a vibrant, fresh face to take over.
Once finished going through the motions, I stop in at the food court. Going back home now spells trouble. The way Leo and I left each other – the tension, sexual or otherwise – will be unbearable. Food for thought feels especially fitting here. More literally than it was intended.
But who am I kidding? I’m stuffing my face with coffee and a bagel for emotional support, to drive out the thoughts of what happened back at home.
Isn’t it funny? It’s the first time I called the Thorne residence ‘home’.
I text Momma, to let her know my interview went well, and then I vegetate in the food court. It’s a pretty unproductive afternoon. That is, until I hear someone’s voice behind me.
“Hello, Little Bird.” The voice is familiar. Without having to face him, I know the man standing behind me. “It’s been so long.”
My heart’s a kick drum in my chest. His voice sends shivers down my spine, and a numbing pain consumes me. A nauseated pit grows in my belly. I’m locked, stunned, and terrified.
My mind’s playing tricks on me. Leo and I sharing a hot minute in the bathroom just brought back some ugly thoughts. Clawing at whatever good I’ve got here and trying to take it away. If I can’t see him, he doesn’t exist.
He’s a figment of my imagination.
He doesn’t speak again. Not right away. Maybe his voice was some crazy nightmarish waking dream. I can’t even get a sigh of relief out, before all of my fears return with the gentle stroke of his hand against my head.
I nearly spew my guts out all over the thin, plastic table.
Jeremiah Williams, the monster who sent my world spiraling, a man I spent my life trying to forget, and somehow did along the way, is back again.
“You’ve only gotten prettier since I last saw you,” he says.
“You’re… you’re supposed to be in prison.” I can’t face Jeremiah. I can’t pull my head away from his touch.
“Five years off for good behavior. They let me out a little before you moved to Austin,” Jeremiah says. He strokes my head, again, resting a hand on my shoulder, and stepping into view.
Jeremiah’s aged poorly, raggedy, like his father outside the courthouse.
His face is thin and gaunt, with a long scar running from below his eye to his chin.
His patchy hair has a splash of grey in it.
He’s gotten crow’s feet across his face.
But his eyes carry the same monstrous stare, like a predator.
The same as I remember, when he told me all those pretty little lies.
Prison was tough on him.
Good.
“What are you doing in Austin?” I fight to stay strong, and fail miserably. My voice is croaky and soft, dragging me back to the terrified little girl I used to be. The innocent child this monster took advantage of.
“I’m here for you,” he says nonchalantly, pulling up a chair and taking a seat. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you, since they locked me up. I told myself the second I got out, we could get back on track. Going to prison was a little hiccup in our journey through this world.”
They should have left you to rot in a cell.
That’s what I want to say but can’t find my voice.
“It’s you and me against the world. We don’t need your momma,” Jeremiah reaches out to touch me. I recoil from him, almost toppling my chair over.
“That worked on me as a child,” I swallow hard between words. “It’s not going to work now.”
Jeremiah’s trapped in some twisted delusion. To think we’d have a chance after what he did, and how I fought to rid myself of him… He’s got to be crazy.
“Don’t you see this is how it was meant to be? You and me. Together, forever?”
I can’t keep my eyes on his predatory gaze. I shift from his brow to his nose, to the scar on his chin, unable to find a place to settle. I want to get up and run, but my body’s numb. I’m facing my deepest, darkest fear, and there’s no way out.
“I’ve got money if that’s what you’re worried about. No need to work in a whore’s emporium,” Jeremiah scowls. “My old man kicked the bucket a couple of years back. Left me a fortune for when I got out.”
“I… I don’t care.”
“Oh, but you do care. Same as your momma cares about all the money her husband has. Wanna know a little secret about them Thorne boys?”
“I don’t want to hear another word from your lips,” I protest, finding the strength to stand up for myself. I’m no longer a child, I remind myself. No longer na?ve and scared of the world.
“Their money comes from dubious dealings,” Jeremiah eases back into his chair. “You and your momma are spending blood money made in bad faith.”
Blood money? I can’t afford to believe a word he says. That’d be the biggest mistake I could make right now. Jeremiah won’t stop until I’ve turned against the people who took me in. He’s cold, manipulative, and calculating. How could he even know anything about the Thornes?
“So, what do you say, Little Bird? You ready to spread those wings and fly away with a real man?” He leans forward in his chair, sinking his elbows into the table. A wicked grin stretches from ear to ear.
Fight or flight? In this situation, I choose flight.
I lift the coffee cup, no longer scorching, but still hot enough, and fling it in Jeremiah’s face. He lets out a sharp yelp as the hot coffee splashes over him. While he’s struggling to reach for a napkin, I get to my feet and run.
I don’t look back, not once, until I’m in my car and halfway home. Even now, I suspect, he’s already on my tail again.
I just want to get home. Get to Leo. Criminal or not, at least I know he can protect me.