Page 1 of Wanted 2

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Icouldn't stop shaking. Don left and I sat in my car, engine idling, hands on the steering wheel, my heart racing so fast in my chest I legit started worrying about a heart attack. Even the bright day surrounding me seemed oppressive, as if choking me so I couldn’t breathe.

I don't remember driving back to the mansion or getting to my bedroom. I do remember pulling out my small box of supplies and sitting in front of the fire with it. I remember staring at my distorted reflection in the tiny razor blade. I remember pressing it to my thigh and feeling all the stress and pain and anxiety bleed out. I remember the release. Then, the shame and guilt.

There had to be a better way of dealing with my tortured soul. But I had yet to find one, and honestly, my life was in such a shitty place did it really matter? Wasn’t this the least of my worries?

After I cleaned myself up, I crawled into bed and tried to sleep, but regret wormed its way into me. I hated betraying the Count, when he'd been nothing but kind to me. Not to mention generous.

I hated helping Don, but how else could I get out from under his oppressive thumb that turned to a dangerous fist at the first sign of challenge? In the end, it was my own damn fault for getting so deep into the drug scene, for owing him so much money. That and the fact he was the only one I knew who could get my brother and I fake IDs to start a new life away from this hell hole… I had no choice.

Right?

Yeah, Don was a master at dangling what you needed in front of you, and if that didn’t work, following it up with what you feared the most if you didn’t deliver.

I needed Jeremy to be safe. And that was exactly what Don dangled and threatened me with.

I’d do anything for my brother.

I tossed and turned, and when the sun rose high enough in the sky, I had to use my sun-blocking curtains to get any sleep at all.

After everything that had occurred, I’d thought I would have had nightmares, but instead I dreamed of the Count, of his lips on mine, his hands running over my body, of him doing to me what he did to all those other women who left looking so smugly satisfied. I woke so horny I was already halfway to an orgasm, so I closed my eyes and pretended my fingers were the Count's and used my imagination to finish myself off.

Nothing like starting the day desperate to shag your boss. I cringed at the thought of meeting him again, considering the last time we’d been together he’d kissed me into an orgasm. Just how do you look your boss in the eye after that?

In the end, I only managed about four hours of sleep before I gave up entirely. There was, after all, plenty of daylight left before I needed to start my shift.

I decided to surprise Jeremy with a trip for ice cream. I needed to make sure he was okay and had a safe place to stay. As hard as all this was for me, it was so much worse for him. He’d been closer to our mother, and she’d protected him as best she could from our father’s temper. Without her, Jeremy’s life had fallen apart.

I grabbed my keys and headed for the front door. The scuff of my every tiptoed step and the slight jingling of the keys sounded so loud in the unnatural silence. How could the Count sleep like the dead during the day? But then, it matched. He kept his house as cold and silent as a tomb.

My car was the only thing that didn't fit in this pristine glamour of wealth that surrounded me. It sat in corner of the driveway like a wart on a model's face—entirely out of place. It took a few tries before the old beast coughed to life, sounding like a long-time smoker on its last breath.

I pulled up to Jeremy's school just before the final bell, and his face lit up when he saw my beat-up Subaru in the pick-up line.

He climbed into the front seat, filling the car with the smell of sweaty teenage boy. "I didn't know you were coming today," he said, grinning from ear to ear.

"I wanted to surprise you. Ice cream or froyo?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Ice cream!"

We made it to the ice cream parlor in under three minutes, and after we’d seated ourselves on a pair heart-shaped, wrought iron chairs in the back with our decadent treats, Jeremy told me about his day.

"I got the highest grade in my class on our bio test this week," he said with pride. "My teacher wants me to participate in the science fair this year." Then, his face dropped. "There's a fee to enter though, and the materials cost money, so I told her I couldn't."

"I can get the money," I said.

He shrugged. "Where would I work on it? Where would I store it?"

All good questions. Home was out of the question.

"Where are you staying?" I asked.

"I'm still at Rick’s house, but I can't stay much longer. His parents are starting to ask questions. I tried renting a room at a motel, but I need an adult to sign in," he said.

"I'll go with you to take care of that today," I said. "And look, my plan is coming together. I'll get us out of here. I swear it."

He nodded, eyes glossy with emotion. "I believe you," he whispered.

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