Page 7 of Sacrifice
“Why don’t you run along?” He scoots his chair away from hers like she didn’t just have her hand down his pants.
I laugh at his antics, par for the course for my cousin. If this chick thought she was going to call the shots with Will, she was wrong.
“Asshole,” she mutters. She stands and walks away, leaving a trail of cheap perfume behind.
I accept a cold bottle of Sam Adams from Jordyn. She asks if I need anything else and I laugh, knowing exactly what she means. This girl can suck a dick like a porn star.
“I’ll let you know,” I tell her. She squeezes my shoulder before heading back to the bar.
“Who’s Blondie?” I ask Will.
“I don’t fucking know. I sat down. She sat down and grabbed my cock. I didn’t really need her name for that, now did I?”
Will runs a hand through his short, brown hair, his eyes lit up in amusement. He smiles wide, his perfectly straight teeth shining.
“Where have you been, anyway? I expected you to show up an hour ago.”
“I had to drop off some stuff at Julia’s.”
“I’ve told ya I can do that anytime you need me to,” he says with a smirk.
“It’s Julia. She’s not exactly the type of girl that someone sitting in a shitty bar, drinking Craft beer could handle. And all bullshit aside, if I ever find out you said something to her, Iwillbreak your face.”
“Dude, when I went to get her car yesterday, she about fuckin’ castrated me. She was wicked pissed. I could see it through her pretty little smile.”
“That’s Julia.”
“How can something so small be so ferocious?”
My chest stills because I know exactly how that’s possible. And so does Will. He’s known her most of his life. But when you’re left alone, your world ripped from under you, you start fighting.
Fighting to live. Fighting to survive.
Fighting to protect what little you have left.
This I know all too well.
THREE
JULIA
The wind zips by, sending a ripple of goose bumps beneath my thin jacket. The sun is setting behind us as we head up the walkway to our building. Everleigh jumps into a puddle, splashing water all over my shoes.
“Quit, Ever,” I say, tugging on her hand. “I don’t have on rubber boots like you.”
“Sorry, Mommy,” she says, wrinkling her nose at me. She’s too cute to be mad at.
I hold her hand tightly and ignore the catcalls from the idiots across the street. The step in front of our building has been fixed. I wince, hoping Crew didn’t piss off the landlord.
Again.
I rip the late notice off the door and fumble with the lock, trying to get the key to twist so we can get inside. Ever squeezes my hand and I know she senses my uneasiness. This morning, before we left the house, she came into the bathroom for me to braid her hair. I’d been crying. I played it off as allergies and she didn’t ask questions, but I knew she didn’t believe me. I hated lying to her, but I didn’t want to tell her it was the anniversary of her daddy’s death, and I was missing him so much I could barely breathe.
The lock finally turns, so I push open the door and guide Everleigh inside. “Take your coat and backpack to your room, okay? I’ll get something started for dinner.”
“Okay, Mommy. Can I color a little while in my room?”
“Sure, baby girl. That’s fine.”
