Page 66 of On the Wild Side

“So good,” is what Ithinkhe says around the bite in his mouth.

“You worked off a lot of calories today.” I take a bite of lasagna and sigh. “But yeah, this is great. Erin’s a good cook.”

“How was your morning?”

“Productive,” I reply and dab at my mouth with a napkin. “I’m officially fully staffed, and I think this crew is going to be awesome. Now, let’s talk about you. How did you really feel about today?”

“How did Ilook?” he asks, reaching for bread.

“Hmm.” I lick my fork and narrow my eyes, thinking it over. “You looked sexier than any one man has any business looking, and I kept undressing you with my eyes. I mean, I know it was a denim ad, but you’re way hotter naked.”

“I’m going to make you come just by sucking on your nipples later.”

My eyes widen, and said nipples come to full attention.

“But how did Iseemtoday, sassy pants?”

“Oh, that.” I laugh and steal his bread, taking a bite. “There were moments that you looked annoyed, but those were minimal, and maybe I just noticed because I know you. Otherwise, you looked like a busy cowboy who had shit to do.”

“That about sums it up accurately.” He watches me from across the sofa for a minute as we eat our dinner. “I’m taking you to bed after this.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Both.”

“I can’t wait.”

“You’re goingto pay for that.” I don’t like his smile. It’s scary and mean, and when he smiles like this, I know it’s going to hurt.

It always hurts.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“You like being a bad girl,” he says with that slimy voice, and he starts to take off his pants, and I just want to crawl into a hole.

I want to die.

“Please. Please don’t hurt me again. I didn’t mean to knock the ashtray over.”

“Shut up!” He backhands me, and even in this fucked-up dream, I see stars and feel the force of the blow as I fall to the ground. “You’re nothing, do you hear me? No one cares aboutyou. No one fucking cares what I do to you. I can do whatever I want. Maybe I’ll put a pretty little scar on you right here.”

He drags his finger down my cheek, and I jerk my face away. As I do, I know that it’s the wrong move because it only makes him angrier.

“Don’t you jerk away from me, you little slut.”

He grips onto my hair and pulls me to my feet, dragging me down a hallway with doorways that are open, and I can see other foster parents laughing at me. Always laughing at me.

“You deserve it!” one yells out.

“I want my mommy,” I cry as I’m tossed into a room, and the door closes behind me. He’s not with me, and I breathe a sigh of relief, but then I hear the slithering, and that scares me more.

I hate snakes.

“They won’t hurt you.”

It’s Nate, and he’s holding one of the snakes, watching it.

“You hate snakes, too.”

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