Page 1 of Tyrant

Prologue

Blair

I’m going to die.

I can see it in my husband’s eyes—he’s going to kill me.

I have to get out; I need to figure out a way to escape. I don’t care what I have to do, even if I’m left with nothing to my name.

It’ll be better than his hell.

Chapter 1

Blair

“Ugh,” I groan, garnering attention from the librarian.

“Everything okay over here?” She’s seen me in the library often enough, so she shouldn’t be surprised.I’ve never been someone to keep my thoughts to myself when I read, and this is another instance.

“I’m tired of reading about guys getting their cocks sucked.”

Her eyes widen as she draws in a stunned gasp. “Well, don’t you think it’s important they discuss it in literature?”

She attempts to be proper, and I roll my eyes at her choice of words. It’s smut, sure it’s literature, but in this case, we’re more worried about the nitty gritty, and the same head bobbing in every book is like rinsing with old mouthwash. You think you taste mint, but you’re only bullshitting yourself, it’s moldy mouth saliva.

“Literally every book I’ve read this week has been about women wanting to suck the cock right off a man and I, for one, do not find it appealing. They’re salty, and not to mention, if they’re fat or long, then you choke or hurt your jaw. See? Not a fun time. Don’t get me started about them finishing on your tongue and expecting you to swallow that toxic shit down your throat.” I mock gage, shivering with the mere thought.Gee-rose. I draw the word out in my mind.

“Shh!”

“Oh please, Shannon. It’s you and me in here and no one else, just like always. Don’t tell me you’re one of them who appreciates a floppy cock like it’s the best thing for a Hoover to get the tube around.”

She sighs, sliding down the wall to take a seat next to me on the floor. I don’t know what it is about libraries having comfortable floors, but they always do, even with the thin, shitty gray carpet. “I know, and being empty is not good for business.” She admits softly.

“The library in trouble?”

She nods, peering over at the paperback in my hands. “I’ve read that one. I was disappointed too.”

“Damn it. Now I have to find another because no matter how hard I try to choke through it, I’ll keep telling myself repeatedly you said it sucks.”

“The story is good, but it was the spicy scenes for me.”

“See! I knew it when it jumped straight to the knob gagging.”

She giggles beside me, shaking her head. “You’ve been in here a lot this week. Is the shelter full?”

With a scoff, I mutter, “Shelters are always full. I prefer spending my evening time in the air conditioner, lost away in someone else’s story, to sweating my tits off, begging for money in the humidity like the rest of them.” I try to come off nonchalant, but inside, it’s taken me a lot to get to this point. I never spoke about anything openly, I certainly didn’t cuss, and I surely wasn’t allowed to have strong opinions about anything besides what was told to me. Books have helped me see the light.

“Understandable. You can use the sink in the craft room to clean up if you’d like. There’re some snacks leftover in the bin from the art class this past weekend.”

“Thanks. I hate showering at the shelter, you never know what some crazy ass will do to you.” She nods, but she truly has no idea. “Mind if I wash my hair in the sink?”

Shannon doesn’t even blink at my request, she simply says, “Of course not. I’ll start making you a pile of books I think you’ll enjoy so they don’t get sold off in whatever short sale they’ll no doubt make us have to try and recoup some monies. We’re too small; they won’t even attempt to fight for us to remain open any longer and it makes me positively sick inside over it.”

My heart aches at the thought of my safe haven’s doors being closed for good. It’s bad enough I can’t sleep here at night and can only come in during their business hours to read and relax. “Maybe it’s time I move on too. This place has yet to give me a job, and I’ve made a promise to myself to never take a penny from my family.” Not that any of them would even offer to help.

“I wish I could’ve given you a job here.”

“Not your fault.” Waving her off, I shake my head. “You’ve done more for me in this town than anyone else has. Thank you. I’m going to head to the craft room.”

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