Page 3 of The Monster's Mate

“I guess you could say that. But it wasn’t willing. Her father is Steve Milles, and the party was at his home. They threw her out but ordered me to take her, probably so they could find out where she lived. Unfortunately, I didn’t turn on the GPS since it was just down the street near the commune. I imagine they’ll be furious tomorrow.” She smiles broadly, then continues. “She has plans. She just bought a tiny little cottage right outside the commune. She’s going to get a job within the gates. Janitorial.”

She’s looking at me expectantly.

“She’s looking for a roommate?” I ask.

“Not exactly. But she’ll need someone… she’s shunned. By her father.”

“Her own dad?”

Sam nods.

“I guess he’s as much an asshole as Duke.”

“From what I saw, yes. But anyway, she’ll need someone who will share clothes. I told her you’d work and pay rent and you know what she said? That it didn’t matter because she bought the house. She’ll get a job for food and if you want to do that too, just help out with bills, she won’t even charge you rent.”

“What’s the catch?”

Sam’s voice turns soft. “There isn’t one, sweetie. She’s really nice, and she’s used to being stepped on too. It’s just two women banding together, helping each other out. You keep her secrets, she’ll keep yours. She’s more worried about you being embarrassed about her status than she is about yours.”

“What happened to her that he shunned her?”

“She birthed a baby at fourteen. And since they were probably planning on having spotless reputations—her dad is an investor and he’s running Duke’s campaign, he shunned her so he wouldn’t look like a bad parent to the ones who line his pockets. And to protect the political campaign now. That’s why she wants to work in the commune, so she can find her daughter.”

“What a jerk. I can’t believe he’d protect his friend over his daughter,” I say.

“You both have prize parents. Which is why I think you and Isabel will get along great,” Sam says. “Now we just need to sneak all your clothes into my car. Tomorrow when my mom and dad leave, I’ll swing by for lunch, pick you up and zip you over to her place.”

I’m on pins and needles all next morning. My clothes have been packed for hours.

I practice smiling bravely, but I’m not sure how I’m feeling. While I knew it was dangerous to live in Samantha’s basement—what if, by some fluke, her parents decided to descend the stairs? What if there was a flood? I know this is an amazing deal she’s wrangled out of a stranger, but I’m afraid.

Being around Sam, even if it’s only half the day, at night, with her two flights of stairs away, was my safety net. I don’t know this woman, though Sam’s vetted her.

Samantha waits until no one is around in their yard, or walking by the street on their way to the commune further down the road, and then she pulls her car around the tiny cottage, parking in back. She and this Isabel must have worked out a system beforehand.

The back door opens. “Come on, hurry now,” Sam says, glancing around though there’s no one watching.

We grab my suitcases from the trunk and head toward the back patio. It’s covered for some privacy and has a sliding glass door.

We have two suitcases each and there’s still a couple in there. Having a cousin like Sam makes for a ton of hand-me-downs.

“Hi, Samantha,” a woman says, ushering us inside. She turns to me. “You must be Lucy? I’m Isabel.” She holds out her hand.

She’s about my same height, though a little more buxom. Her hair is dark, and her eyes are striking, large and grey with a fringe of thick lashes that look like they could tangle if she blinks. Maybe a few years older than me, but it’s hard to tell because her skin is so pale and unlined.

“Yes, I’m Lucy. Nice to meet you. Thank you for sharing your home.”

She nods. “Don’t you worry about a thing. Sometimes women have to help each other, you know?”

I do know. “I thank God every day I have Sam.”

“Aww, hush,” Sam says, her cheeks pink. “I love you, silly. I’d never let you hang in the world all alone.”

Sometimes I wonder how she escaped the family trait of cruelty and selfishness. I mean, I missed it too, but I have a mother that I’m sure I got genes from, though she’s passed.

But then Samantha continues, “Isabel, I’ve been thinking. If you can already afford to live on your own and just need a job for the monthly bills, would you be able to work part time?”

Isabel looks confused and I can’t say I blame her. “I mean… I’d love to, but I don’t see a job that is willing to pay me to work half the time.”

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