Page 45 of Fighting the Odds

“Perfect. Also, I’ve heard she wears a mask, but can she dance for me without it, seeing how I’m paying a hefty sum?” I want to see the face of the cunt who’s sleeping with a married man. How it morphs from smug to pity then fear as I tell her the truth and warn her what’ll happen to her if she continues.

“Lilac never performs without a mask and Saturday will be no different. I don’t have time to dick around. Either you want to book the time or not, it makes no difference to me or her.”

If I could ram my hand through my phone and wrap it around his neck, I would. The fucker thinks he can talk to me like that when he’s nothing more than a pimp for low rate bitches.

Cool down, Wesley, a hot head isn’t going to get you anywhere. The bitch wants to wear a mask and hide who she is. I can play that game too.

“No problem at all. The mask makes it more exotic. In fact, I may wear one myself. Let’s just say it may be a new kink of mine. Both of us strangers, neither knowing who the other is. Can we turn the lights down low, add a little intensity to the time we’ll be sharing?” One more day and I’m going to be face to face with the bitch. I can’t wait.

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll give your name to the doorman, so he knows to expect you. If you’re late, the price is still the same. If it’s past the time, you are out of luck. Just a reminder, there will be no touching of Lilac and no masturbating. Your clothes stay on. Only hers will come off. Anything else, just give me a call.” He hangs up without even a goodbye.

I slide my phone into my pocket. Now that the date and time are confirmed, I have some shopping to do. First off, I need the cash, which will be easy. Dad always has some in his office, hell he probably won’t even notice it missing and I honestly don’t give a shit if he does. Next, I need a mask and clothes that’ll be a little more strip club appropriate, giving off an air of wealth I don’t personally have on my own.

As I step out into the hallway, I hear glass shattering in my mother’s bedroom.

I take off in a hurry, racing down the hall and bursting through the door. She’s not here, and I start panicking until I hear her faint cursing coming from the bathroom.

I stride across the room to her bathroom door.

She’s kneeling on the floor, broken glass everywhere and blood. I rush to her side, scooping her up into my arms and take her to the bed.

“Stay here, Mom,” I say softly, and rush back to the bathroom. Pulling a washcloth from under the sink, I wet it with warm water.

“I’m so sorry, it slipped.” Her words run together and tears stream down her face. I gently take her foot in my hand, cleaning the blood before applying pressure to the cut.

“I know, Mom,” I whisper.

Her body slumps and falls sideways onto the pillow before her quiet snores fill the room. On the table is a tray with an untouched bowl of soup, some crackers, and a bottle of water.

Once I have it cleaned, I head back to the bathroom and pull the first aid kit from under the sink, then bandage her foot. She sleeps through it all.

Picking up the throw blanket at the bottom of her bed, I cover her up, then sit down on the edge beside her. Some of her graying blonde hair has fallen into her face and I push it to the side, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, Mom. I promise you I’m going to make Dad pay for what he’s done to you. How he’s made you feel. Him and every one of his little skanky hoes will suffer.”

Standing, I head back to the bathroom, picking up all the glass, and putting it into the trash before cleaning the blood off the floor with a dirty towel. I’ll send Millie up on my way out to make sure there’s no lingering shards on the ground.

As I step through the doorway, I take one final look back at the disheveled drunk my mother has become. All because she loved a man who treated her like garbage and tossed her aside the moment a younger, prettier woman paid him the slightest bit of attention. But they’re all going to pay for making her become this person.

Chapter 22

Wesley

Colt was with his brothers all morning, but the perfect opportunity to corner him alone finally presented itself. Well, thanks to a little help from Mrs. Pearl. All it took was a pouty face, a few mentions of dear old dad, and she was eager to give me just what I wanted. Someone to assist in the library. Colton Stevenson, to be exact.

I couldn’t help the smirk on my face when he came through the doors. I knew he didn’t want to be here. But his brothers couldn’t save him now.

“Good, you’re here. Wesley highly recommended you to assist him today with the shipment of books we received.” Mrs. Pearl steps over to him, smiling as she smoothes her hands down her skirt.

“I’ve never worked in a library before, so I don’t know how much of a help I’ll be and I’m missing a test being here.” Colt’s voice has a hint of bitterness in it as he shoots me a glare.

“Young man, no worries. I’ve spoken with your teacher and you’ll be allowed to take it at home over the weekend. If I were you, I’d be happy that you’re getting an open-book test when your classmates are not. Now, I’ll leave you in the capable hands of Wesley so he can explain what needs to be done.” She places her hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently, before turning to leave.

She was most likely creaming her underwear a minute ago when I told her how my father thought she’d be understanding enough to get an additional person to help, and if she could, he would personally thank her. Barf!

“Okay, Wes, what’s this about?” He puts his bookbag on a nearby table as he looks around the room. Either looking to see who else is here or for the boxes Mrs. Pearl mentioned.

“It’s the only way I could get you away from your guard dogs. What the fuck, man! Why have you been avoiding me?”

---