Page 61 of Lucky's Trouble

“So what happened after a year? Why did it stop?”

“I complained to my mom about a couple sores in my mouth.”

“The asshole gave you an STI?”

“Well, she didn’t know what it was, so she took me to the doctor, where I was diagnosed with syphilis. She was so pissed. She assumed I was off having sex with classmates. I told her the truth, but she didn’t believe me. She called me a liar and a sinner for even suggesting a man of God would do such a thing.”

“What a cunt,” he sneers.

“To be fair, I hated church, even as a child. Every Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday, when I was expected to attend church or church functions, I suddenly came down with a stomachache. It wasn’t a lie, but I also wasn’t sick. I now know it was anxiety because something in me always knew that place wasn’t right for me. But to my mom, telling her about what happened was just a progression of my lies to get out of going.” I’m blinking back tears as I admit, “Not even Myla believed me.”

“That must’ve hurt worst of all.”

I nod. “Unfortunately, she learned the truth the hard way because when we turned thirteen, Myla was due for her annual visit with that same church leader. Soon after, she came down with the same sores. Mom was quick to dismiss it as sharing a straw with me or some bullshit. She never once admitted that I was telling the truth, but after what happened with Myla, neither of us had a meeting with that man again.”

“It took your sister getting sick to make her believe you?”

“Yeah, but we were never allowed to talk about it, not even to my dad. We were forced to keep it a secret.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“I had questions about the religion before, mostly just that feeling of it not being right, but after that, I was done. I did the bare minimum to keep my parents off my case, but it was never enough. I was a constant source of embarrassment. Myla was one hundred percent with me after what happened to her, but she had an easier time changing who she was around my parents.”

He nods. “I can see that. She’s one way with customers and a whole different person with everyone else. Still sweet, just less fake.”

“I never had that ability, not even when Neal would drag me to those awful events. People laughed it off as me having a dry sense of humor, but that’s not what it was. I was just being honest with them, and they didn’t want to cop to the truth.”

“I’m sorry you went through that.”

“It is what it is, right?”

“I guess, but it’s not what it should’ve been, and it’s not what it will be. Not if I have a say in it.” He pushes a strand of hair off my cheek. “You’re the bravest goddamn person I know.”

“I’m not. If I were, I wouldn’t have gotten myself in the same situation I was running from.”

“That’s not on you. That’s on him.”

I reach up and scratch a flake of dried blood off his forehead.

“Shit.” He glances down and sees that his arm has the same splatters. “I should go shower.”

Maybe he forgot it was there, but I didn’t. I memorized the placement of each drop as he fucked me, and it turned me on knowing what he did for me.

Now, that’s a truth I’ll keep to myself.

Lucky climbs out of bed, giving me a better look at his naked form. His shoulders are broad, his abs are defined, his cock is a thing of beauty, and his ass is round and high. I stretch, relishing in the fact that, at least for now, he’s mine.

“Come with me and keep me company,” he says, opening his closet, digging through a chest of drawers, and producing a pair of boxers.

“So the whole free-balling thing is a choice and not just because you’re too lazy to buy underwear?”

“Focus,” he repeats. “Shower time.”

I’m tempted, but I also feel like I could use a minute to process how intense the last couple of hours have been.

“Tinleigh, get your ass up. You’re coming with me.”

I quirk a brow at his demand. I’m not surprised because he’s been this way since I met him, but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t question his authority.

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