Page 60 of Savage Daddies

A lump forms in my throat, and my heart rattles.

Maybe the ground will swallow me up and eat me before he does.

“You’re a whore.”

I always knew my high sex drive would land me in shit one day. My mind just always pictured something different, like an STI or heartbreak. Not this.

Maybe Iama whore.

Shame heats my cheeks. I failed. Couldn’t resist temptation.

But maybe this is the turning point in our marriage. Maybe this is the moment he divorces me.

“You have made me look a fool.”

I’m unsure which part he’s referring to here. The photograph, or the bathroom? Some of those comments were lethal. They made him a laughingstock. I see the way he grinds his jaw and turns away, like his mind is flashing back to the childhood he fought hard to escape.

What haunts me most is how he found out about the bathroom.

Did he spy on us?

Watch the whole thing?

The thought alone sends shivers up my spine. He’s Big Brother. Nothing skips his notice. It’s violating. Like I’m naked on the strip with nowhere to hide.

“I always knew you were a little slut.”

My hands shake, and they won’t stop. Now what? I deny it and embarrass myself further? He knows the truth. There’s no talking myself out of this one.

“How did you find out?”

“You forget how powerful I am, Zoe.” His cruel eyes stare at me. “Nothing gets past me. Look at you,” he cackles, shaking his head like it’s some sort of joke. “Look at the state of you.” He surveys me. “You haven’t even done your hair.”

Steadying my voice, I say, “You didn’t permit me to leave the house.”

“You disrespected me.”

“And you continue to do that to me every day.” I lose control of my mouth. Anxiety doesn’t lace my voice anymore and block the words from gushing out. “You stole mylife.You’re forgetting something. You have yours. You work. You do as you please. What about me?”

“I give you everything.”

“You give me designer clothes and manicures. Wake up, Felix. That’s noteverything.”

“No, Zoe.Youneed to wake up. This isn’t high school anymore. Stop being delusional, it doesn’t suit you. This is real life, and in the real world, dreams are only there to keep people hopeful. I see the way you lose yourself in books, like the narratives are actually real. Authors write false promises and create fake dreams to keep people hopeful. Hope makes money. It sells dreams that don’t exist. Do you understand?”

Now I’m the one grinding my jaw. “You had a dream,” I monotone.

“I workedhardthrough college, that’s all.”

I narrow my eyes. It seems too simple. All college kids work hard. That’s the point. Tuition fees cost more than MacDonald Highlands properties these days. Students don’t wrap themselves up in all of that debt to slob around, half-ass their assignments and attend only fifty percent of their lectures.

Everybody works hard.

But somehow Felix worked harder.

If this guy sells a dream, it’s the rags to riches story. How can a person go from nothing to everything in twenty-something years? Something tells me there’s more to it than good grades.

“I’m so disappointed in you,” Felix continues. “Look at you. Where you’ve ended up. That’s the issue with books and movies. They inject false hope into your veins. They want you derailed, Zoe. These bikers don’t care about you. All they care about is bikes and sex, and bedding the best women.”

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