Page 1 of Playing With Fire
Chapter 1
Shannon
Iquietly pull the door to my four-month-old daughter’s room closed. It took longer than usual for her to shut her eyes and fall asleep for her nap, but we finally got there and I’m celebrating that the next hour is all mine.
I briefly think about calling my husband to say hello, however, the last time I did that, it wasn’t received well. And seeing as I’m not in the mood for another condescending lecture aboutdisruptions without an emergency,I decide against it.
Instead, I creep down my hardwood stairs, trying to separate the crusted strands of my hair, but quickly realize it’s no use. Serafina’s spit-up has hardened and honestly, I could use a rinse anyway. It’s almost as good as a nap these days.
I’m down to just my panties when the shrill ring of the doorbell reverberates through the open floor plan of my entire house.
No, no, no!
I freeze, hoping I dreamed it, but the next thing I hear is an ear-splitting wail from my daughter.
And then the doorbell again.
“Motherfucker!” I don’t cuss often, but I’m so exhausted I could cry. I swipe my towel off the hook and wrap it around my mostly naked body before stomping to the front door and ripping it open, vowing to bring death upon whoever is on my doorstep.
I’m positive that I currently resemble a feral woodland creature, but I can’t be bothered by that just now...not when I’m out for blood. “You’d better have a check for a million dollars that I need to sign for,” I snarl. “And stop ringing my goddamn doorbell!”
I expect the man in the delivery uniform to at least flinch, but he cocks a half smile as he turns his head to survey my stone porch and copper gutters before looking past me to the large open foyer. His gaze finally comes to rest on my frazzled hair and short towel with a raised brow as he hands me a small box.
“With all due respect, ma’am, I don’t think it’s money you’re in need of,” he yells over Serafina’s wails. The girl does not like to be ignored.
I feel the moment the insult distorts my features. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He lazily shrugs a shoulder, still not upset by my rudeness, state of undress, or screaming child. “I just meant it looks like you could use a good night’s sleep more than a few dollars. Sorry for waking the baby. If you could just sign here, I’ll get out of your way,” he says, thrusting his electronic notepad at me. I rip the matching pen from his hand, so tired I can barely see straight.
He nailed it. I wouldpaya million dollars for sleep right now.
“Uh, what’s that first name?” he asks with a puzzled expression on his face.
“Can’t you read?” I sass.
“Notthat chicken scratch.” He laughs coolly, unfazed by my comment.
I’m still pissed, but this is the first conversation I’ve had outside of Gregor and my mother in four days. Even Carmen hasn’t reached out much since Serafina was born and I’m more isolated than ever.
This man doesn’t know me, but I appreciate that despite my screaming child, unhinged look, and rude demeanor, he isn’t tiptoeing around me, giving me thoseyou poor new mothereyes. I hate that look with a passion, especially considering I never wanted tobea mother in the first place.
“Shannon,” I finally answer.
He types it into his machine just as Serafina doubles down on her efforts to get my attention. The man finally winces.
“Sorry about that, Shannon!” he calls over his shoulder as he jogs down my porch steps to his waiting truck.
I slam the door, set the unwanted box on the stairs, and climb back up toward the nursery.
One look at Serafina and I know there will be no nap today—for either of us. Closing her door behind me, I pull her out of her crib and sit on the floor, prepared to play with blocks until my eyeballs fall out of their sockets.
Instead, I wake up two hours later with her chewing on my towel.
“Mother of the fucking year,”I grumble to myself.
How did I get here?
Chapter 2
