Page 33 of Between Dusk and Dawn

The guy looked around to see if I was with someone before his eyes peered into mine. He was much younger than me, no ring on his finger, and had the build and stature of a football player. His long, blonde hair glowed in the night as he pushed his hair off his forehead.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Are you single?" I followed up quickly.

"Uh…"

"Please answer me." He had the door propped open as if he was unsure of whether he was going to bolt back inside.

"Yeah?" I pressed my lips against his mouth while emitting a loud moan.

If Walsh could spend an entire year fucking Cagen roughly in the room next to me to piss me the fuck off, then I could do this to him tonight.

"I need to get inside," I whispered as I pulled away from the perplexed guy. I pushed him backward, knowing Walsh could see that this guy was a fake.

"I must say, this is the first time I’ve been used to make someone jealous."

I balked at his confession. "How do you know it was for jealousy purposes?" I continued walking him backward toward the stairs so we were out of view of the window.

"Because I saw your boyfriend out there watching us with a very pissed off look on his face." I rolled my eyes, but inside, I was doing a little happy dance for beating Walsh at his own game.

"So, what’s your plan now?" the stranger asked. "You wanna come up to my place and finish this little charade?—"

"Absolutely not." I waved my hand in his face. Three times in one night was far too much, even for me. "Is there a back exit?"

He nodded, throwing his head over his shoulder. "Behind us. There is a door that leads out to the parking lot in the back."

"Cool. Thanks for that." The guy chuckled before I headed toward the exit. "Oh, and by the way?"

The guy paused, turning toward me. "He’s a very scary man who is probably stupid pissed off right now, so if I were you, I’d wait a minute before heading out."

"Fuck," the guy groaned before turning to head upstairs. "This is what I get for trying to have a decent Friday night."

"Sorry!" I giggled, then practically skipped toward the back door. God, it felt good to win.

The cool night air blasted me in the face as I checked both ways before bolting toward my house. I ran through two strangers’ backyards before I rounded the corner to the edge of the woods where the guest house was. After opening the gate and running down the driveway, I came across the little cabin I called home.

Before I grabbed the handle, I checked behind me, making sure Walsh didn’t stalk me home. When I put the key to the lock, the door creaked open, and I furrowed my brows.

"That’s weird," I said, swearing I locked it before I left. I was not sober when I left after chugging three shots of vodka, so it was likely I didn't. It wouldn't have been the first time.

Rushing inside, I shut the door behind me, then locked it.

My back pressed against the cool wood of the doorframe, I slid down, hugging my knees when I finally hit the ground. The tears exploded from me as my entire body shook. It had to have been the release of adrenaline over all that had happened. Either that, or it was the fact that Walsh fucking Solis was back in Isles and somehow tortured the guy who was this close to assaulting me.

Even though I’d taken a nap earlier, my body was exhausted. I was mentally spent. All I wanted was to get to the point in my life where people loved me.

My mind trailed off as I lay on the cold floor, huddled into a ball, and closed my eyes.

"Pack your clothes for school.The extra pair." My grandmother’s wrinkled hands passed me an extra pair of clothes to put in my backpack.

"I don’t want to embarrass myself at school. Can I please just stay home?" I begged. I wasn’t ready. Grandma had been preparing me for how a lady should act in school. She encouraged me to use the persona that I’d created when my parents would hurt me and destroy my room. She told me it would make me more likable. People didn’t want to get to know someone with a sob story of the past. They wanted to know the girl who had to go live with her rich grandmother because she was beautiful, stunning, and a perfectly good little girl.

"What if I wet myself at school?" I was eleven years old and about to go into sixth grade, but ever since coming to my grandmother’s house, I had a problem with peeing myself anytime something made me uncomfortable. Terror filled me thinking my dad would come to collect his precious prized possession.

"You are not going to." She grabbed my elbows, yanking me closer to her and forcing me to look up in her aged face. "You are going to walk into that school like you own it, because you do. You are part of me, in my blood. We do not bend to the face of adversity, we stand tall and give it a fucking middle finger."

"But—"

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