Page 20 of Blood of the Sirens
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to beat it since single females weren’t supposed to have strange men follow them home, after all.
Merrick seemed different, though.
And hot.
Andnice.
That was a deadly combination forcing me into poor choices.
“Uh … sure. Meet me back at my place.”
Merrick nodded and with a serious look strode off with determination toward the noise and lights of Main Street. I shook my head and made sure my bag was secure, tucking my dress up into the waistband of my leggings.
I took off a little more forcefully than necessary, the tires skidding in the gravel. With a curse, I wobbled, then regained my balance.
I pushed hard and fast, wanting to feel my muscles strain with effort as my horrific evening flooded back. I wanted to burn through the rage and hopelessness I felt at the inequity of it all. Why should I work like a dog and get punished for things beyond my control when assholes like Archie could live the high life and hurt whoever they wanted?
If Merrick hadn’t come along …
My life out here was contingent on my marine degree. Or had been. It had been two months since they’d kicked me out, and no one had found out yet. Plan B was to start frantically fixing up the house and prove to them I could take care of it. Maybe then, they wouldn’t evict me.
If only I had a strapping man around to help me out. Or a dad. Ha. I’d mostly dealt with that trauma ages ago, but sometimes it stung harder than others. According to Gram, no one knew who my dad was, not even my mother. It was something Gram held over both our heads.
I was over all of that, though. I didn’t have daddy issues and from what I’d seen, Mom and I were better off without my grandparents’ money and all its conditions and strings.
Maybe I was being too harsh on them. They wanted to see me safe and settled–being a single girl kicked out of a program and mooching off of them wasn’t exactly encouraging. I could see that. If they found out I’d gotten kicked out, they’d likely make me move back to Ohio with mom, and I couldn’t do it.
Not because I didn’t love my mom–I did. But I was too old to be constantly bumping elbows with her in her small apartment. Living with her would only hurt our relationship, not help it.
But losing the beach house I’d fallen in love with, and the life I’d become accustomed to? That was a very real possibility. And it was terrifying.
No offense to Mom, but I had no desire to move back in with her and her shabby one-bedroom apartment in Ohio. Not at my age. My grandfather treated twenty-six like an old maid—if he had his way, I’d be married and on my second or third kid already.
Because in his mind that was true success.
Well, for some it might be, and that was fine.
But not for me.
I’d tried that already, and sacrificed my late teens through my early twenties to failed relationship after failed relationship, cycling through assholes and pricks like they were cheap, flimsy bras.
At least I’d finally realized that no one could make me happy but me.
I pedaled on, refusing to dwell on dickheads any longer than I needed to.
I’d rather think about Merrick and what the fuck his deal was. I pondered the blond enigma as I finally pulled up to thegravel road and turned off the highway. I threw the bike down on the front steps, quickly stripping off my reflectors and resolving to deal with them later. I only had a small amount of time until Merrick would be here, and right now, the house looked like a pigsty bachelor haven, and not the beach house of a suave, single lady.
Not that I was suave or anything. But I was single.
I dumped last night’s take away into the garbage and after a moment’s thought took my arm and swept everything that was onto the counter into the trash. I winced as I filled the bag and had to get another. I ran around the open kitchen and living room like a possessed woman, quickly filling the second bag and tying it off. Sweating, I took the bags out back and left them.
Running back inside, I quickly fluffed the couch pillows and folded the blankets. I grabbed a cloth and sprayed it with an all-purpose cleaner, quickly running it over the sticky places on the old tile countertop. It took only a few minutes to frantically run the vacuum over the hardwood floors. Damn, they really needed a new stain or some varnish. The golden finish on it was faded and definitely not in style.
I flicked on my wax burner, chucked a cube called ‘cozy’ into it, and ran into the bedroom. I groaned at the mess of dirty clothes and the layer of dust winking at me from the mantle. OK, so maybe Ihadbeen depressed after getting kicked out of the program.
“It’s fine. We just won’t go back here. It’s fine.”
I shimmied my pants down my hips, but kept the black cocktail dress I’d worn to work on. I turned in the mirror to make sure there was no dirt from the drive home and threw on another layer of deodorant. I scrunched my hair and sprayed body spray everywhere like a possessed pre-teen. Victoria’s Secret Love Spell filled the surrounding air, aholdover from my teenage years. I only used it on special occasions.
