Page 22 of Debts and Desires
“You’re awfully chatty tonight,” I mumbled sarcastically.
“Don’t have much to say.” He turned the stove off.
“Clearly,” I mumbled again, sitting back down. Carter moved to a drawer, grabbing two pot holders before turning to the table. He sat them down, grabbed the food off the stove and sat the pan on the pot holders.
“What do you want to drink?” he asked.
“Water,” I responded. He grabbed the jug from the fridge and filled my glass. Then grabbed himself a beer. “Sorry,” I said, nodding to the extra cup. “Wasn’t sure what you wanted.”
“It’s fine,” he said, sitting. We were in another suffocating blanket of silence as he filled his plate with the delicious smelling food. I carefully placed one smaller piece of chicken and a tiny spoonful of green beans on my plate.
“How was your day?” he asked, clearly trying to extend a branch.
Finally.
“It was okay,” I lied. He nodded and went back to eating in silence. This man was giving me whiplash. “So, after we eat, can we go talk to Tyler?”
“Not tonight.”
“But you said?—”
“I know what I said. I’m tired,” he snapped, his tone as rugged as his appearance.
“Okay,” I wasn’t going to argue. How could I? What would that have done?
After dinner, he refused to let me help him clean up. When everything was put away, he looked me over.
“I’m gonna shower. You can, too, if you want. Be in my bed in twenty.” He didn’t wait for a response, walking away.
What an asshole!
I felt my stomach knot as I headed to the guest room and did a quick rinse off. I hadn’t done anything that warranted a full shower, but the way he said it made me think it wasn’t optional. I dried off and headed to his room in my robe and waited for him in his bed.
The next two days went the same way. I’d wake up to an empty room, get ready for the day, and be bored. I stayed with Carter one night, waking up with Mac at my feet. I stayed in the guest room the other night, and Mac scratched at the door until I let him in. He seemed to be the only one in the house that gave a shit, and that was probably only because I fed him treats.
After lunch both days, Carter fucked me on the table and put me on my knees so he could finish in my mouth. Then he’d leave without another word. When he got home later, he’d cook us dinner, shower, and then he’d fuck me senseless all over again. I still didn’t get to come, and it was more than frustrating.
I felt like I was fading away. It wasn’t just from the sex. The house was starting to feel more and more like a prison as the days went on.
I asked if we could talk to Tyler and both days and he said no.
Every day, I felt more and more numb.
10. OUT OF ONE CAGE, INTO ANOTHER
September 1
Day Five
Two Days to Go
Ihad accepted that this was the way things would go with Carter. I should’ve never told him to stop being nice, but it was too late now. Today, I awoke when he did and got up shortly after he left for work. I couldn’t sleep.
My mind was finally racing with ideas for songs and lyrics. Just not the correct ones. I kept writing, but nothing sounded right. Eventually, I gave up and headed back into my self-proclaimed spot on the couch beside Mac. He let out a small huff and laid his head back down, probably upset that I had gotten up so early. For his breed, he was such a lazy little thing. And sassy. I told myself it was best not to get attached to him, but that was getting harder every day. I ignored the thought and looked around.
I don’t know where the idea came from, but I decided to make the most of the time by doing some cleaning. It seemed like a productive way to pass the hours. Maybe it would even shave some of my costs from Carter off. Besides, what else was there to do? I set about tidying up the living space first, wipingsurfaces and organizing the scattered belongings. Then I made my way into the kitchen. I started with the fridge. There was a good bit shoved in the back that was spoiled or getting there. I emptied it, placing all the containers in the sink. I made a trip around the house to grab any other dishes and whatnot before finally starting the dishwasher. While that ran, I started organizing the cupboards and drawers.
I was in the middle of throwing away some very expired dog treats—with Mac closely supervising and openly disapproving by my side—when the front door opened. I glanced at the clock, seeing that it was just past twelve thirty.
