Page 60 of Dizzy

Or he’d drag me out and do it anyway, and that would ruin everything, too, ‘cause I’d be out the door the very next second he turned his back. There’s nothing that makes me think he’d force me, but that’s the whole thing with men, isn’t it?

Carol didn’t think Dan would leave her.

Dee didn’t think Reggie would ever hit her.

Keira didn’t think Brian was using again.

Kayden didn’t think Chad could possibly be the one taking cash from her purse.

And every man Mama ever brought home surprised the crap out of her each time he cheated or snuck into one of our rooms or pawned the TV.

Trusting men makes you stupid. Trustinganyonemakes you stupid. ‘Cause wasn’t Kayden steppin’ out on Chad? Wasn’t Keira drinking herself into a stupor as soon as she got home from work?

Now I’m standing in the middle of the hallway like an idiot, head full of garbage.

I wish I could turn it off.

“Go into my bedroom, Fay-Lee.” Dizzy’s voice is deep. Calm.

So I do.

As soon as I shut the door—after checking again that it doesn’t lock—butterflies tear through my belly. I flick on a bedside lamp. I don’t think I could do this with the overhead lights on.

I tug off my sweatpants and drop them in a hamper. I see that Dizzy’s lined up the shopping bags on the bench at the foot of the bed. I count them. Twelve. Damn, I did some damage.

I walk to the bed, super aware that I’m naked from the waist down. I’m only wearing a new button-up plaid shirt that I bought at the store. With each step, my pussy lips slide against each other. I’m sopping wet.

He’s gonna be able to tell. My inner thighs are getting slick, too.

I bend over and lay my upper body across his dark green comforter. It clashes terribly with all the teal, but it smells like him. Spicy but reassuring.

I position myself so I’m facing the disassembled engine on the dresser. I arch my back, stretch. It feels good.

I shift my hips. My slit opens. I don’t have one of those pretty shaved pussies with puffy lips. I’ve been on the road too long, and I’ve got folds and a clit that peeks out.

My nipples are hard, chafing against my shirt, and my ass is getting cold.

Every second I wait, my breath grows shallower, and my nerves go crazier and crazier. I’m nearly crawling out of my skin.

It’s totally quiet in the room. My head is a different story. It’s like it cracked open and everything fell out in a jumble. I don’t know where to begin sorting it all out.

I’m alone.

Vulnerable.

Aching.

Scared.

When the door snicks open, I startle. Dizzy slips in, and then he kicks the stacked laundry baskets in front of the door. It wouldn’t stop an intruder, but it’d give us enough time to get decent if the kids needed something.

Shit.

What if the kids need something?

“Are they gonna—uh—interrupt?” I stand.

“Nope. We ain’t gonna hear from them for hours. They hate bedtime. They ain’t gonna come up until I call ‘em.”

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