Page 108 of The Pucking Wrong Man

“I’m calling,” I said loudly, my fingers fumbling on the still unfamiliar screen as I tried to find the phone pad.

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m leaving. No need for theatrics, little bunny. I’ll expect your first payment next month.” Michael gave me a little salute as he turned and started down the sidewalk away from me.

“I’ll be seeing you,” he promised.

I had no doubt he was telling the truth.

I watched him go, wondering how I existed in a world where I couldn’t get away from him. He’d followed me into the city, sure that I would crack and beg him for help after a few nights at the shelter.

He’d been furious when I hadn’t. I guess the fact that someone would rather be homeless than with you was quite a hit to the ego. I’d been scared of him when I’d first moved in with the Carvers, terrified actually, with how he’d acted before, and his words at the hospital when I’d woken up.

But he’d been on his best behavior those first couple of months. Michael had lulled me into a false sense of security that maybe he wasn’t that bad.

And then he’d struck, showing me exactly who he was when I’d woken up bleeding because he’d decided that cutting me while I was sleeping was fun.

I knew he was serious about the money. But even if I worked around the clock, I wasn’t going to be able to get that much in time.

I could just picture Camden’s disgust when he saw those pictures. His embarrassment when everyone he knew and didn’t know saw my naked body. In those poses.

He wouldn’t understand how I’d allowed Michael to take them. He’d hate me. He’d never want to see me again.

I couldn’t take that.

Leaning over, I threw up on the sidewalk, the vomit splattering all over the concrete. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t.

I needed to get to work.

Abruptly changing directions, I headed toward the bus stop I usually took to get to Charlie’s. Why had I thought it was a good idea to take off this week? Even before what had just happened, I should have been saving money, collecting as much as I could so I could leave and not be a burden to Camden anymore. Now, it was even more of a necessity.

My phone buzzed, but I ignored it for a second until I decided it was probably the polite thing to answer Camden’s text. I should let him know I couldn’t make it tonight and that he didn’t need to pick me up.

Me: Have to go into work. I’m sorry.

Wiping away more of the tears that had leaked out of my eyes, I pushed aside all the good things that had happened to me this past week.

They weren’t for me.

This was my reality.

I couldn’t forget that again.

CHAPTER 21

CAMDEN

Iwish I’d taken a picture of Anastasia’s face when she walked out from the back of Charlie’s and saw me sitting in my usual spot.

She’d stopped mid-step, her mouth open adorably.

“Hello,” I said mildly.

“I—” She squeezed her eyes shut and then stomped over to me, anger in every step. “I don’t have to explain to you why I needed to work tonight. I’m appreciative of everything you’ve done for me—but I don’t owe you.”

There was a hitch to the end of her voice as she ended her sentence, but her chin was lifted determinately, and she was just daring me to argue with her.

“That is true. You don’t owe me anything,” I responded.

Her eyes flashed, and she blinked a few times, searching my face to see if I was telling the truth.

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